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Mumbo stared up at the ceiling. Well, where the ceiling would be were it bright enough to see it.
His bunker was completely silent, save for the quiet breaths coming from his husband where he lay beside him, and Mumbo's own.
Martyn had his hand resting over Mumbo's, where it lay on Mumbo's chest. Something like holding hands. Mumbo couldn't help but worry that his ring was digging into Martyn's palm.
Neither of them were sleeping, despite how late it was (Mumbo knew even with Martyn's closed eyes and soft breathing that he was awake. His husband was a bit of a snorer, not that he minded.)
Mumbo took a deep breath, breathing it out in a sigh. He felt Martyn shift next to him.
“What're you thinking about?” Martyn mumbled, sitting up on his elbow.
“Sorry?”
“You're worried about something; tell me.” Martyn was offering comfort, he'd never forced Mumbo to tell him things he didn't want to, which was much appreciated.
Mumbo sat up in the bed, making Martyn's hand drop off his chest.
“I'm just... scared?” He began, searching for words to accurately describe his worries.
“Of?”
“Well, everything, Martyn!” Mumbo whisper-shouted. “We're all killing each other, and I'm not very good at staying alive!”
Mumbo tapped his fingers on his arm, a nervous tic Martyn recognized he did often.
“You have nothing to worry about, you're just so good– at everything, really. You haven't even died once.”
Martyn sat up next to Mumbo, touching his arm to his side.
“I'm scared I'll die again, and then I'll be red, and I'll have to leave you; and everyone in The Southlands,” Mumbo confessed, wrapping his arms around himself.
Martyn wrapped his arm around Mumbo's middle. “That's not happening any time soon, okay? You know I wouldn't let that happen.”
“You can't protect me from everything,” Mumbo leaned into his husband's side. “Any one of us could be the boogeyman, and I'm such an easy target. I wouldn't even blame them for going for me.”
Martyn didn't deny it. “Well, I won't leave you alone, then. You won't be an easy target with a big ol' attack dog at your side, huh?”
Mumbo weakly laughed. “You can't be near me all the time.”
“You wanna bet? You won't be able to get rid of me, mate.” Martyn grinned, and Mumbo laughed again.
Martyn entwined his left hand with Mumbo's. “Look, if you think I'll leave you when you're red, you're stupid. Maybe we won't be allowed to live together anymore, but I'll still love you.”
Mumbo ran his thumb over the back of Martyn's hand. “Even if I go crazy and try to kill you?”
“Yeah? Might even love you more.”
Mumbo broke our into giggles, bringing his hand up to cover his mouth. “ Stop it. ”
“I'm serious! You'd be a pretty sexy red life,” Martyn rose his right hand defensively. “Uncontrollable bloodlust would suit you.”
“Who do I contact to find out what on Earth is wrong with you?” Mumbo spoke through stifled giggles.
“I'm afraid nobody knows the answer to that one, mate.” Martyn stretched before flopping back down on the bed. “C'mon let's get some sleep.”