There’s not much else Crozier can do but lie there and keep himself from succumbing completely to the overwhelming urge to sleep. He’s not overly warm, and he can tell he’s indoors, which is enough to reassure his struggling brain that he isn’t dying of hypothermia.

But the exhaustion, the exhaustion and agony —- he barely even makes a noise when he’s dragged across the dusty floor of the cabin, despite being twisted and moved and feeling his broken ribs get pushed and pulled. It’s not just the sort of tired in mind and body, but his soul is worn and ragged.

It occurs to him that it would be so easy - and welcome - to just let himself slip away. It wouldn’t be fair to Raju after how hard he’s fought for him, but it’s tempting. His mind begins to wander, slipping away from the present and bringing him back to that silent tent in the mutineers’ abandoned camp.

“They all died. They all died, every single one of them…”