[ He's hardly on board when she reaches him, arms around him in an embrace that is tighter than he's ever known. He doesn't see anyone else, doesn't hear anyone else. Just her, blue and white and bright, and even though he still hurts, even though he is exhausted, even though he knows he is not fit to be in her presence or anyone else's—
He buries his nose in her hair. She still smells like flowers. He doesn't want to let her go.
But the other people on the ship have other ideas, Torgal first of them, knocking his head into Clive's knees so hard he buckles, stumbling, desperate to keep hold of Jill while not falling over at the same time. Then Gav, then Byron, then Mid, all of them clamoring around him, tears and hugs, a wet nose pressed into the palm of his hand. It's all he can do to keep standing, and he looks at Jill, giving her a half smile. ]
Sorry I'm late.
[ And then his knees give out and he falls to the deck, conscious, but weary, every inch of exhaustion and pain he's been putting off until this moment catching up to him. It's through sheer will he remains seated upright, and Mid turns, barking orders, telling her men to get their arses in gear, they're going home. Gav kneels down, helps Clive to stand, and Clive reaches for Jill's hand, the knife edge of grief creeping it's way back into his chest. She's so happy, and he loves nothing more than her smile, would box it up and keep it in his heart forever if he could, and he wants nothing more than to keep that smile from fading, but she deserves to know. ]
Joshua. He... he didn't make it.
[ And Clive has never been sorrier for it. Tears well up in his eyes, and he doesn't know what else to say other than: ]
no subject
He buries his nose in her hair. She still smells like flowers. He doesn't want to let her go.
But the other people on the ship have other ideas, Torgal first of them, knocking his head into Clive's knees so hard he buckles, stumbling, desperate to keep hold of Jill while not falling over at the same time. Then Gav, then Byron, then Mid, all of them clamoring around him, tears and hugs, a wet nose pressed into the palm of his hand. It's all he can do to keep standing, and he looks at Jill, giving her a half smile. ]
Sorry I'm late.
[ And then his knees give out and he falls to the deck, conscious, but weary, every inch of exhaustion and pain he's been putting off until this moment catching up to him. It's through sheer will he remains seated upright, and Mid turns, barking orders, telling her men to get their arses in gear, they're going home. Gav kneels down, helps Clive to stand, and Clive reaches for Jill's hand, the knife edge of grief creeping it's way back into his chest. She's so happy, and he loves nothing more than her smile, would box it up and keep it in his heart forever if he could, and he wants nothing more than to keep that smile from fading, but she deserves to know. ]
Joshua. He... he didn't make it.
[ And Clive has never been sorrier for it. Tears well up in his eyes, and he doesn't know what else to say other than: ]
I'm sorry.