The words strike some place deep inside of him, because he knows what they're like. What it is to feel them. And not for the first time, he's reminded of how he and Crozier (first lieutenant and captain) were so closely aligned, more than perhaps any of the other men could be. That weight of responsibility, some inevitable thing that has to exist, no matter where blame can be assigned beneath, in all the little ways.

In the end, Edward feels responsible by virtue of being what and who he is. It has to be that way. And for Crozier... He's the only other man aboard Terror who carried more of that responsibility than Edward. The highest rung on the ladder.

He dips his head again, not wholly submissive in the moment so much as... heavy. Everything feels so very heavy.

"They are. It's been.... a bit jarring to witness just how freely they're capable of sharing their sentiments," he agrees softly. "I think I might even envy them, at times." He isn't sure he can ever feel such... freedom.

But there are so many things that need to be said, and he's heard them in his head over and over again, apologies and clarifications and regrets.

"I haven't been fair to you." He starts there, after taking a slow breath. "Ever since my arrival to this place, I've wanted.... things to be how they were. I thought... if I could hold onto that, to how I was, then perhaps I truly could become that man again. Good, and decent. I wanted to find him again so badly, and I needed you to be... my captain."

It sounds child-like, and he actually chuckles, very quietly. A little embarrassed, self-deprecating, but honest.

"....But that is not your burden to bear, amongst all that you already carry. The man I was... He is gone. I realise that now." Beat, as he looks back up to Crozier, the smile drifting from his face, eyes soft and wounded and miserable.

"You were at the trial. You know... what I've done. I killed someone. A boy." Saying it aloud makes it real, takes away more of him.