Work Text:
Arthur groans, eyes screwed shut to block out the light. His head pounds, the pain endless. He hasn’t had these headaches in years… and he didn’t miss them.
The canvas shifts as someone enters the tent. For a moment, he thinks it’s Micah, before remembering his partner isn’t in camp.
“Arthur?” It’s George. Micah’s son. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Not really, boy,” Arthur mumbles.
“Oh…” George says, disappointed.
Arthur sighs fondly. “Well… I guess a cuddle might help…”
George giggles slightly, climbing into bed beside him. The boy snuggles against him, and whispers, “Feel better soon.”