I Had As Lief Have Been Myself Alone
Archie Kennedy woke in the middle of the night and sat up in his hammock, shuddering, for the third time in a week. However, this time, instead of trying to fall back to sleep, he got up, pulled on his jacket, and silently went up on deck. It was oddly cold, and he rubbed his arms to try and warm them.
He looked into the water, and sighed. Lately he'd been dreaming of Jack, which was stupid, because Horatio had promised him any number of times that Jack was dead, and it was Captain Pellew himself had shot the man dead. Knowing it was stupid didn't help with the nightmares, though, because he and all his things used to belong to Jack. Everyone else had been able to forget that, but somehow he hadn't. He could only imagine, then, that it was from something that was wrong with him, and that was why the nightmares came.
He didn't start when Wellard came up beside him; instead he turned and looked at Wellard inquisitively.
"Good evening," he said softly. "What are you doing up here?"
"I couldn't sleep, sir."
"I'm not surprised. Does it hurt any less to-night?"
"It's mostly the same, sir." Wellard looked down at the deck beneath their feet.
He was so white! Archie noticed, for perhaps the fiftieth time. His face was so white. He looked ill. It made his freckles stand out on his face like black ink spotted on white paper. Also, he looked quite frightened, as though he knew someone was going to hit him the very next moment. But his face was a sweet face, and Archie had the faintest, for some reason, sick, feeling that he fancied Wellard.
He twitched. "Is Dr. Clive doing anything for it?"
"He's given me laudanum, sir, and that helps a bit."
Automatically, Archie murmured, "Lt. Hornblower thinks it advisable that Dr. Clive give you less laudanum, seeing as it's an opiate. He suggests that someone should be sober aboard this ship."
Wellard paled a little. Archie wondered if that was how he blushed.
"Of course, sir. ...Sir?"
"Yes?"
"Can't you sleep either?"
"I can't." Archie paused. "I may be ill. I'm having a great deal of trouble with sleeping lately."
"Perhaps you should see Dr. Clive, sir?"
For a moment, Archie wondered if he was frustrated by their conversation. They were only stating the obvious and saying nothing, particularly nothing meaningful or important. It was almost like an exchange of pleasantries, though they weren't talking on anything Archie found pleasant.
"Er, yes," he said distractedly.
"Thank you, sir, for trying to help earlier," said Wellard quietly.
Archie looked at him. "Oh--"
Wellard stopped him by kissing his cheek, putting both hands on his shoulders gently. Archie squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to make a sound. Of a sudden, his head was aching horribly, and he could feel Jack's angry hands on him.
"Sir? I'm--I'm terribly sorry, sir," he heard Wellard's anxious voice say. "Are you all right, sir?"
He shook his head sharply, with a small gasp. "Yes! yes, a moment. I'm fine. I'm not fine. Just a moment, please." He rubbed the back of his hand over his forehead unhappily. "I'll be fine in a moment."
"I--I am sorry, sir. I didn't think. I didn't realise I'd upset you, sir." Again, Wellard was going paler than usual. Archie thought wildly that it must be how Wellard blushed, indeed. "It's just, sir-- No, I'm sorry. Please accept my apology, sir."
"Accepted," Archie whispered.
Wellard nodded, looked away for a moment, then hurried off. Archie stood by himself, rubbing his shoulders harder than before, as though he were freezing. He'd known there was something wrong with him. He did fancy Wellard, and yet couldn't bear to be kissed by him. Slowly, Archie walked back down to the officers' cabin and climbed into his hammock.
He had no idea what he would do after that.
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