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    Summary

    He’s drifting, truly, in a deep, cozy fog. Safe. The door creaks. Jayce doesn’t twitch a muscle, despite the thrill that instantly thrums in his heart. He drifts more.

    He swears he hears a murmur. Someone, talking. Silco? Here early? Jayce internally smiles, and his face crawls to show it. Gods, but he’s so tired. Unconsciousness has him gripped in its talons. It threatens to pull Jayce under. No not yet...

    Or: Jayce comes to find rest and solitude in The Last Drop. He doesn't realize that the hands touching him aren't familiar — but fortunately, Silco is there to righten any wrongs.

    Language:
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