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Mortuga furrowed his brow, as he looked out into the great sea, steering his wheel, deep in thought, past interactions and conversation resurfacing. His thoughts became as murky and endless as the sea in front of him, getting lost in that endless stream.
Godrik had been behaving strange, lately. Stranger than usual, that is. The navigator had a tendency to disappear, yes, as well as walk the halls of the submarine at night, with a concerningly empty gaze- all strange- but, these behaviours were expected from Godrik. These are all things Mortuga had learned about and knew how to approach. After all, he had been with the man for quite some time, now.
These new behaviours are what have been worrying him, stressing him. The navigator would often scurry off to his room for hours, only to exit days after, looking worse for wear, as if he’d been fighting off a demon. There are times where Mortuga would visit him, and he’d see Godrik hastily shoving something into a bag he’s never seen before
And when he’d question it, Godrik would reply with; “Just some old junk I’m going through! Nothing of importance!” Before frantically finding a new topic to talk about. Other times, Godrik would seem clumsier than usual, dropping things when he normally wouldn’t, clinging to Mortuga, following him, making a mess of himself as he ate, as if it were the first time he’d ever used to a fork. It had Mortuga worried. He’s seen Godrik at rock bottom before- he still somewhat is- and, the idea of him hiding another secret from Mortuga had his stomach squeezing & his heart racing.
….
When Mortuga saw him, he felt the inside of his body freeze over, like a heavy breeze, warning of a storm to come, or the first days of winter. Godrik was in Tadpole’s arms, both of them on the floor of her room, drenched & soaking up the towels and carpets. Godrik was wheezing, coughing, spitting out water. Water. Oh, god.
“What- What happened? Tanya?”
Mortuga asked, the panic in his voice taking form in a faint tremble, approaching them with frantic, yet hesitant steps. Tanya’s expression was rock hard. But Mortuga knew he saw pain in her eyes, as she helped Godrik cough up water, help him breathe.
“I found him in the water. Alone. He was trying to drown himself.”
Came Tadpole’s response. And Mortuga's heart sank. He knew. He knew the minute he saw Godrik coughing water, but a part of him had hoped, hoped it wasn’t true.
Mortuga sprung into action.
….
The captain blinked, eyes focusing back into the steering wheel. Breathe, Magnus. He took in a deep breath, sweaty palms letting go of the wheel, listening to the sound of the control room. Mortuga didn’t want a repeat of previous events, not again. Another deep breath. Okay. He should check on Godrik. The navigator had disappeared into his room again and, although Mortuga preferred respecting Godrik’s privacy, the captain prioritized his crew's safety before all else.
“Better safe than sorry.”
He mumbled.
With that in mind, Mortuga quietly made his way to Godrik’s room. It was supposedly nighttime, with most people doing their nightly routines, wind downs, etc. Mortuga knew that Godrik would still be wide awake, at this hour. He never did have the best sleep schedule, that cartographer. A small smile ghosted his lips at that fond thought.
Finally, Mortuga arrived at Godrik’s door. The captain approached the door with careful steps, gently opening the door, the familiar sound of loud engines & steam pooling out. As he peeked his head in, everything seemed… Fine. Nothing out of place, no sign of a struggle.
In fact, the cartographer was nowhere to be seen! A bolt of fear struck through the captain. That had Mortuga fully entering the room, sweat already pooling at his shoulders and lower back, body temperature rising. Where was Godrik? Has something happened? Damnit, he knew something was happening, and he was too late, wasn’t he? This was terrible. Where had Godrik gone? Maybe he could still-
Having begun to unconsciously walk in an attempt to regulate his panic, Mortuga stopped at Godrik’s basket. There was a thick blanket, here. Several blue blankets actually, with purple pillows. The captain blinked, his heart rate slowing down. Wait, was this pile… Godrik’s? He could faintly hear snoring, amongst the engine sounds. Is this where Gripp had been? Sleeping away the day? Well, perhaps that wasn’t terrible, he always did need more sleep. But curiosity got the best of Mortuga.
Slowly, as if handling glass paper, the man slowly peeled back a corner of the blanket, revealing the bird nest that was Godrik’s hair, no hat or fake moustache to be seen. That ghost of a smile came back to haunt his lips. Then, Mortuga paused, eyebrows furrowing.
“What’s this?”
He quietly questioned himself, taking in the image that was before him, taking in every detail. Swaddled in a fuzzy blue blanket, Godrik slept, both an otter plush and Cornelius stuffed between his arms, tightly snuggled, and… Mortuga’s eyebrows shot up. A pacifier. In Godrik’s mouth. Relief washed over him, his mind settling, eyes softening like dough. Of course. Of course it was. How could he forget? Godrik used to do this, back on the Dearest Selena. He would get extra quiet and soft, lean on him & Felicia, cling and stare. It all makes sense now, of course Godrik would fall back on this coping mechanism, it was probably the healthiest one the man had. Especially with everything that’s been happening… Mortuga couldn’t believe he’d almost forgotten.
“Mmghr…”
Godrik wiggled about in his basket, making Mortugs freeze, hold his breath… But Godrik did not wake, and continued slumbering. Letting out a sigh, Mortuga let go of the blanket, a small, fond smile rising upon his lips, no longer haunted. Godrik was safe, that’s all that mattered, really. The captain backed away and watched the basket sway, something akin to a crib. How endearing… With that in mind, Mortuga made his way to the kitchen, to prepare something for his dear friend. His dear cartographer.
“Sleep well, old friend.”
—
Godrik sat up in his basket, groggily wiping the sleep from his eyes & yawning, letting his pacifier fall to his lap. Groaning as he stretched, and feeling a few pops and cracks, Godrik sighed in satisfaction. That was probably the best sleep he’s had in decades! He truly felt rested and energized, for once.
“Right, well, no use dillydallying, I’ve been sleeping for long enough.”
Godrik rose to his feet, and clambered out of his basket, Cornelius in hand. He straightened out his pants and sleeveless shirt, readjusting the suspenders. Letting the pile of blankets, pillows and … other things covered in the basket, he’ll take care of that later. It can wait and he can pretend it never happened! It’s never something he really enjoyed acknowledging, anyways. Just a means to an end.
“Well, Cornelius, how does that sound? I say we go- to…”
The cartographer trailed off, as he noticed a plate of… Cookies, on the wooden crate next to his basket. As well as note. When did this.. Get here? Anxiety began to stir in his guts. Settling Cornelius in the crook of his arms, he grabbed the note with shaking hands, opening it up and bringing it up to his fearful eyes. An all too familiar & extremely clumsy writing came into view. No, was this…?
’Godrik,
I hope your little nap was pleasant & restful. I know sleep is something that you often lack and struggle with. I’ve left cookies for you to eat, as I am also aware you struggle with keeping up with your bodily needs.
You do know I am experienced in taking care of you, do you not? Hiding away and masking yourself is wholly unnecessary, my friend. I’ve helped you with this “little” issue before, and I would not mind helping once again. You and I both know it’s good for you.
Mortuga’
Eyes wide and cheeks a bright, burning pink, Godrik shoved the sickeningly sweet note into his basket and face planted beside the plate of cookies. Mortuga had seen him. SEEN him! Seen him napping, with his… Things. His foolish, ridiculous yet oh-so useful tools. Saw him at his most vulnerable, again, just like way back. Another low groan escaped the cartographer. This was embarrassing- humiliating! How was he supposed to look Mortuga in the eye, now? He barely did on a good day, now it’d be impossible! He was supposed to have moved on from this!
“Oh, damnit all…”
Godrik grumbled, pouting. Then, he turned his smooshed face towards the cookies, his left cheek squishing up against the clothed crate, eyeing the cookies. He hesitantly grabbed one, and took a bite. It.. It was good. His pout lessened, the tension from his eyebrows easing. Perhaps… Perhaps it wasn’t so terrible. If Mortuga kept it between them, that is. It could be like it was before. Different, of course, but… Similar. In a way.
Godrik straightened up, his expression more doughy. He took another bite. Maybe it could be okay.