Crozier smiles, a touch of sadness in it. It’s as though Raju hasn’t even realized he’s been kept company this entire time.
Raju won’t sleep, and if he does he’ll have nightmares. There’s no doubt in his mind this is why he’s offering to take first watch. If he can avoid sleep for as long as physically possible then he can keep control of the flames in the tin.
Crozier places his hand on Raju’s shoulder. “When you’re tired come to bed.” No reinforcing the quiet explanations, just a simple statement. When he’s ready Crozier will be expecting him.
He nods softly and shifts away, ready to rest his bones a while. He’s also plagued by dreams, horrible ones, but he knows his will never leave him so long as he keeps breathing. Living with them is the only way to move forward, but lord, are they exhausting sometimes. They’re abstract now - large soup pots with human-like limbs simmering away inside of them, scattered papers fluttering away across a barren landscape, rusty chains cutting into disintegrating limbs.
He falls asleep trying to think about more pleasant things. Glittering stars, gently-rolling waves, a book of pretty poetry, the man behind him. He doesn’t tend to wake from his nightmares, even when he is in the throes of it, whimpering or moaning or listing an old muster roll in his delirium. He won’t wake from it tonight, though it’s particularly severe, a large beast with three heads crushing skulls underfoot like dead leaves, pausing only long enough for the next human in line to scream.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2024-06-08 03:43 pm (UTC)Crozier smiles, a touch of sadness in it. It’s as though Raju hasn’t even realized he’s been kept company this entire time.
Raju won’t sleep, and if he does he’ll have nightmares. There’s no doubt in his mind this is why he’s offering to take first watch. If he can avoid sleep for as long as physically possible then he can keep control of the flames in the tin.
Crozier places his hand on Raju’s shoulder. “When you’re tired come to bed.” No reinforcing the quiet explanations, just a simple statement. When he’s ready Crozier will be expecting him.
He nods softly and shifts away, ready to rest his bones a while. He’s also plagued by dreams, horrible ones, but he knows his will never leave him so long as he keeps breathing. Living with them is the only way to move forward, but lord, are they exhausting sometimes. They’re abstract now - large soup pots with human-like limbs simmering away inside of them, scattered papers fluttering away across a barren landscape, rusty chains cutting into disintegrating limbs.
He falls asleep trying to think about more pleasant things. Glittering stars, gently-rolling waves, a book of pretty poetry, the man behind him. He doesn’t tend to wake from his nightmares, even when he is in the throes of it, whimpering or moaning or listing an old muster roll in his delirium. He won’t wake from it tonight, though it’s particularly severe, a large beast with three heads crushing skulls underfoot like dead leaves, pausing only long enough for the next human in line to scream.