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"What's wrong, Eddie?"
Edmund looked up from the desk, where he'd been cradling his head in his hands. Staring back at him was Bellamy, not looking afraid but definitely concerned.
Edmund opened his mouth to speak, but he sadly found himself at a loss for words. His brain was too tired, his body too weak. He'd been putting in extra labor the past few days trying to manage the crew's antics. It seemed like the whole boat was falling apart, which made the entirety of their home one large, floating hazard risk. At the expense of his own health, he'd been working to repair the damage, corral his crew, and tend to anyone who needed such accordingly.
He knew he'd been offered many breaks from Bellamy, who'd grown increasingly worried about his boyfriend's mental state (not that he could bring himself to say it explicitly). However, his own natural parental instincts, as well as his desire not to risk the ship sinking while they slept, prevented him from accepting such offers. He'd shook every notion of drowsiness off, telling himself and others he was just fine. However, as he sat there slumped over at the desk, he knew that any attempts he made to be productive now we're sure to end in casualties.
Despite the rather prolonged moment of silence, Bellamy seemed to understand the weight Edmund was carrying. With slow and gentle movements, he made his way over to Edmund's side of the desk. He put soft pressure on Edmund's shoulder and the small of his back, indicating him to stand up. While exhausted, Scarf complied, the sleepiness in his eyes more apparent once his hair moved temporarily out of his face.
Bellamy led them to the hammock, sitting them down on the edge. He helped Edmund out of his boots, all the while the smaller man remained silent, save for a few quiet hums of acknowledgement when Bellamy asked him to move. Though his eyes were drooping and his body felt heavy, he could tell that Bellamy had transitioned them to be laying down flat in the hammock, Edmund laying next to him with his head against Bellamy's chest.
With a quiet sigh, Bellamy ran a hand through Edmund's hair. The lanky man gave a small smile of appreciation, his eyes closed as he wrapped his arms and legs around Bellamy, taking in all he could of the warmth they shared. His heart felt at peace, his body relaxed. It was a quiet moment, but it was safe. It was like all his previous issues had ceased to exist.
He felt Bellamy's hand stroking his head as he spoke. "I told you not to work so hard."
Edmund would've rolled his eyes if they were open, and he gave a quiet chuckle. "I know, I know."
"You should listen to me more."
"Perhaps."
"Maybe then, this would be real."
At this, Edmund slowly opened his eyes, his smile fading, but he didn't move from his spot. "Maybe it would be." Although he didn't notice it, he squeezed Bellamy just a little tighter. "Nothing wrong with pretending, right?"
"No point now," Bellamy spoke, any emotion he'd previously shown now gone from his voice. Edmund remained still. He knew not to look at the face. Never look at the face. It hurt too much. "You're about to wake up anyways."
"Couldn't I stay longer?" Edmund mumbled, ignoring the tears he felt burning his eyes.
"You could have."
~~~
"I say, you don't look so well, Number Two."
"I assure you, I'm completely fine, sir."
"Bad dreams, I don't suppose?"
"Not exactly."