Chapter Text
Darkness and dust hid the perpetual sunburn that persisted across the bridge of Thomas Jopson’s nose despite his faint tan from the Arctic sun.
Edward Little lay on his side, facing away from his now fellow Lieutenant. His sense of smell had long since been dulled, accustomed to the constant pungent odor of death, sickness, and unwashed men. Still, somehow Jopson smelled comfortingly warm , in a way that he couldn’t describe, contrasting with the biting cold surrounding them. Edward nestled closer to him, seeking the comforting press of the other man’s body against his own. The blanket was rough and threadbare, barely offering them any warmth.
They had long since given up maintaining proper decorum on nights like these, miserably huddled together in the canvas tent that they shared. Besides , Edward thought, was two men trying to ward off frostbite really that strange?
Thomas didn’t speak, merely wrapped an arm around him, the weight reassuring. His cracked lips were parted, but the sight was no longer tempting. All that either of them wanted was to hold and be held, treasuring these brief moments in the darkness before sleep took them.
“It’s cold tonight.” Edward’s voice was hoarse, dry, almost lost in the night air.
“It’s cold every night.” There was a faint hint of amusement in Jopson’s voice.
“I know.”
Silence descended, filled with the wind that whispered over the rocky ground outside and toyed with loose strips of canvas.
“I want to go home.” Edward fought to keep his voice from breaking, to get the words out at all. His shoulders had tensed from the effort of staying composed.
Thomas could tell, of course, and his sigh stirred Little’s hair. “So do I.” How many times have we said those words? he wondered silently.
There was nothing more to say after that. Edward’s eyes closed of their own accord, body giving in to the bone-deep ache and exhaustion he was filled with. In the distance someone coughed, the sound wretched and pained, and he thought of the sick and dying - the already dead. Suddenly aware of his own heartbeat, his breath caught. How long before I- no, we, join them?
Thomas’ thumb stroked Edward’s forearm soothingly, even as his own breathing slowed and he slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Edward lay for a moment, both dreading and wishing for the dawn that would bring not a new beginning but another stale day that blurred into all the others and brought only more suffering. Still, secretly, he hoped that they’d live to see home again. He scoffed quietly through his nose, knowing it wouldn’t wake the man beside him. Hope - the fatal flaw of humanity that kept his bruised feet taking step after step towards the barren horizon.
At last he slept.