[ Hickey wears a scowl like a cat forced into a bath as Angelo and Tozer shift him around. He hates this feeling of weakness, of needing anything from them, but he allows it to happen. A mortal man would care that his wounds were dressed properly. There's infection to stave off as well as the cold, and even minor injuries struggle to heal in this place. Tozer still keeps his hand wrapped even though the incident with the cannon is months behind them now. Hickey needs to make a show of taking this seriously. With how exhausted he is and how little immortality does to lessen the pain, it's not difficult to fake it.
Still, his pride has limits. He shrugs Tozer off with a grunt as he sits up fully—but has to catch himself on the gunwale as the boat heaves over a wave and when the marine steadies him again, his grip less negotiable. His shivers miserably the entire time he's worked on, but Angelo comes for him with that blanket and he snatches it away before he's thoroughly swaddled, muttering a weak protest that he's not a child. He'll wrap it around his shoulders on his own, even if the motion is accompanied by a lot of wincing.
The blanket is nice, and if he were in a better mood, he'd likely find all of Angelo's fussing nice, as well. But as it stands, he's too rattled to appreciate the company. If he had his way, he'd fix his damn case to spare himself the trouble, then curl up in the back of the boat to sleep until they arrive at the ships.
The razorlike throbbing in his chest is not the worst pain he's felt, but it's a constant reminder of yet another rejection and a foolish mistake. The Tuunbaq in the place beyond the mirrors wasn't real. It was just a cruel trick played by Yoonhee, preying on a private fear no one had any business knowing. Yet Hickey is more upset than he should be by the betrayal. It's not as if he was planning to abandon his new path for whatever the Tuunbaq might have offered him, anyway.
It's not as if he ever intended to return to England with the expedition either, but it was nice to imagine a future where Crozier's faith in him gave him the break he's been searching for. The recognition of his worth was enough, exactly as it was.
But Crozier turned on him the moment he put that worth to use. The Tuunbaq... he doesn't understand what he did to earn its hatred. The explanation he thought of on the ice, his shift away from relying on the creature, no longer feels like the answer. He wishes it did. Instead, he's left with the disquieting suspicion that he's been reading the wrong narrative since the beginning.
The captain doesn't see you at all.
He glowers at Angelo's question. It's almost a welcomed distraction, but it just piles on one more thing for Hickey to stew over. Goodsir. That bastard. ]
Yes.
[ He settles back against the boat's frame, just for a moment. He's in no condition to row, but like hell he's going to lie there pathetically while the others do all the work. Someone needs to man the rudder. It's one thing to shirk manual labor simply because he doesn't want to do it, and it's another to be incapable. ]
A petty act of vengeance. All he's accomplished is to ensure his own death.
[ He says it loudly enough for the others to hear. Make no mistake who did this to them. ]
no subject
Still, his pride has limits. He shrugs Tozer off with a grunt as he sits up fully—but has to catch himself on the gunwale as the boat heaves over a wave and when the marine steadies him again, his grip less negotiable. His shivers miserably the entire time he's worked on, but Angelo comes for him with that blanket and he snatches it away before he's thoroughly swaddled, muttering a weak protest that he's not a child. He'll wrap it around his shoulders on his own, even if the motion is accompanied by a lot of wincing.
The blanket is nice, and if he were in a better mood, he'd likely find all of Angelo's fussing nice, as well. But as it stands, he's too rattled to appreciate the company. If he had his way, he'd fix his damn case to spare himself the trouble, then curl up in the back of the boat to sleep until they arrive at the ships.
The razorlike throbbing in his chest is not the worst pain he's felt, but it's a constant reminder of yet another rejection and a foolish mistake. The Tuunbaq in the place beyond the mirrors wasn't real. It was just a cruel trick played by Yoonhee, preying on a private fear no one had any business knowing. Yet Hickey is more upset than he should be by the betrayal. It's not as if he was planning to abandon his new path for whatever the Tuunbaq might have offered him, anyway.
It's not as if he ever intended to return to England with the expedition either, but it was nice to imagine a future where Crozier's faith in him gave him the break he's been searching for. The recognition of his worth was enough, exactly as it was.
But Crozier turned on him the moment he put that worth to use. The Tuunbaq... he doesn't understand what he did to earn its hatred. The explanation he thought of on the ice, his shift away from relying on the creature, no longer feels like the answer. He wishes it did. Instead, he's left with the disquieting suspicion that he's been reading the wrong narrative since the beginning.
The captain doesn't see you at all.
He glowers at Angelo's question. It's almost a welcomed distraction, but it just piles on one more thing for Hickey to stew over. Goodsir. That bastard. ]
Yes.
[ He settles back against the boat's frame, just for a moment. He's in no condition to row, but like hell he's going to lie there pathetically while the others do all the work. Someone needs to man the rudder. It's one thing to shirk manual labor simply because he doesn't want to do it, and it's another to be incapable. ]
A petty act of vengeance. All he's accomplished is to ensure his own death.
[ He says it loudly enough for the others to hear. Make no mistake who did this to them. ]