Work Text:
He frowns, now.
He frowned before, of course, but rarely. Much more common were the happy, ignorant grins. Even in the midst of a losing battle, he would pant and yell and scream – but never truly frown. Occasionally an expression of dissatisfaction might appear at the denial of food, or a game, or some other trivial matter, but…
Before, he was laughter and restless energy personified – never serious, never still (except when he was). In some ways, he still is. But this is blended with a new aura of conviction, of protectiveness: of loss.
The others have noticed it too – of course they have! No-one’s said anything, though, and no-one will; he’s still your Captain, even if he has changed a little. He’s not the only one. The separation has let you all develop in different ways; everyone’s edges are different, for all you seem to slot effortlessly back together. Every one of you has grown.
Now, setting sail again after two long years, you look at him and see a man where a boy once stood. A man who frowns where a boy would once have smiled and laughed, without understanding.
A man you will not fail. Not again.