Work Text:
Jake lies wrapped in blankets, the fire warming his feet. Every part of him aches: the battered muscles in the leg that was trapped and the scrapes and cuts on his face are just a small part of the cacophony of protests from his body for the treatment it's been through.
Dozing, he learns to forget the memory of bitter cold eating into his bones, and slowly recovers his health. It's not the only thing he's recovered. He and Dad haven't talked yet, and maybe Jake'll never be ready for that, but he's glad he's found again that he can.