Chapter Text
“She’s here.” Rythian speaks into his empty library, drawing Enderbane from its scabbard and wincing only slightly at the sting in his hand. The simmering feeling of pins and needles settles into his palm, and he ascends through the unfinished tower’s open roof into the moonlit night to face her.
Almost immediately, his attention is drawn away from the dragon’s silhouette - barely visible in the dark save for the eclipsed stars betraying her approach - by the shriek of endermen invading the fortress.
The blade faces little resistance as he decapitates the first and turns, piercing up through the defined ribcage of the second. He follows the motion through, sending the corpse sloughing off the end of the blade and leaving orchid purple blood staining the shimmering metal. If not for the fact he spent his recent days consistently armour-clad, the blood would be soaking his clothes much more thoroughly.
Another shriek from his left sends him marching through the rubble entrance of Blackrock Stronghold, swiftly dispatching another with an indelible proficiency. The beating of heavy wings grows louder, and he once again takes to the air above Blackrock, steeling himself to meet her.
A ball of purple dragonfire is hurled at him, the heat searing through his armour even at a distance. He hastily changes direction mid-air as it careens past. Below, more endermen swarm, and in absence of an opportunity against the dragon, calls down lightning upon them. The thunder echoes and he snaps back to the dragon, weighing Enderbane in his hand. He stands to his full height, and takes a defensive stance in anticipation. She charges him, teeth bared. He dodges, slashing at her hide with a draw cut as she passes, pursuing her down to the crater of what was once Zoey’s farm.
Flurries of fireballs chase her, and as he approaches the ground he is halted by a carpet of dragon’s breath under his feet. Rythian draws back, landing on her far side. He plunges Enderbane into the top of her shoulder with both hands, pulling down on the grip with all his strength to carve through the ligaments. The dragon queen roars as her blood saturates the ground, whipping her head around to bite at him. Teeth and claws clash against metal and armour as the dragon lists, blows are parried and Rythian fights with the single-minded focus she herself had beaten into him.
They are equally matched; Their fight becomes a dance, each of them knowing the other so intimately as to always anticipate their movement. They continue to lunge and parry, to bite and to pierce. Rythian senses the slight trepidation entering her movements as he continues to wear her down with slashes from Enderbane, his agility becoming his greatest asset. Finally, he gets an opening; As she slashes at him with the claws of her uninjured leg, he dodges to his right, ducking under her great arm. Before she gets the chance to turn to him, he’s vaulted back over her arm and plunged Enderbane up to its hilt in her neck.
His fervor overtakes him at the glimmer of a chance to finish her. Rythian throws himself against the pommel, driving the blade ever deeper, but the movement leaves his side exposed. She doesn’t hesitate as she forces her teeth into the gap between plates, biting down with great force into his torso.
He cries out in pain, but keeps his grip on the shortsword. Despite his desire to continue regardless of his injuries, he relents and withdraws Enderbane as his vision dims. In turn, the dragon releases him and struggles to her feet, the beating of her great wings knocking Rythian onto his knees as she departs. His breathing is laboured as he falls forward onto his hands, red and purple blood swirling together in a puddle around the blade still under his palm. He tries to focus, to make sense of the situation, but as he lifts his left hand to check the wound he falls onto his side and loses consciousness.
As much as he drifted in and out of consciousness, he had no energy left to pick himself up. And so Rythian laid in the pool of mixed blood until morning.
____
Zoey followed Teep through the tunnels, ducking to avoid cobwebs and carefully climbing over the various items of debris, not realising they’d made it back to Blackrock until they were in the basement directly under the Stronghold.
“Wow, this place is a mess,” She commented, climbing the ladder into the even more destroyed foyer. “What happened? Where’s Rythian?” She asked, walking out of the hole where the front door used to be and looking around for the mage they’d left behind.
“Rythian?” She called out, walking with Teep out towards the farm. Or, what used to be her farm.
Rythian roused from his dissociated not-quite-slumber at the sound of his name and a familiar voice. In the silence of the fallout, he called back. “Zoey?” He croaked, voice hoarse with his laboured breathing. If not for his life stone and the position he laid in keeping pressure on his wound, he was certain he would be dead.
“Rythian?” Zoey called again, uncertain if she’s actually heard him, climbing over the edge of the small crater to a better vantage when she saw him. “Oh my gosh, Rythian!” She skidded down the side of the crater in her scramble, awkwardly making her way around him to kneel in front of him. The blood had left the ground sticky, coated in the dark, bruise-like residue. “Rythian…” She whimpered, hands hovering over him. “What happened? Are you okay? No, obviously you’re not okay, stupid question. You’re bleeding! Ohhh gosh it’s okay, we’re here, you’re gonna be okay,” She stammered, the ending sounding more like a prayer than a statement.
Rythian stared up at her through heavy eyes, the morning sun rising over the mountains behind her lighting her hair up like it was made of the very sunrise itself and giving her a heavenly halo of light above her head. If he didn’t still feel incredible pain in his side, he’d think her an angel come to take him away. “Zoey…” He whispered irreverently.
Zoey looked up as she heard the scuffle of Teep sliding down the graveled slope of the crater, watching as he silently padded over and knelt behind Rythian. He placed his bow on the ground, and one hand on Rythian’s shoulder to let his friend know he was here.
“We need to know how bad it is, don’t we?” Zoey asked Teep, worry furrowing her brow. Teep nodded, and she sighed. When she looked back down at Rythian and he had his eyes closed, she panicked again.
“Rythian? Rythian! Rythian please open your eyes, please don’t be dead,” She pleaded, resting a hand on his cheek. Begrudgingly, and with a very displeased groan, he opened one eye to look at her. His head was killing him. “Ohhkay good you’re still alive. Can you…move? Actually maybe don’t move. Uh, Teep let’s get him on his back so we can see what the damage is.”
Teep nodded, and together they very carefully rolled Rythian onto his back, provoking another objecting moan of pain. It was at this moment that Rythian came to the realisation he could neither move nor feel either of his legs. Concerning, he thought to himself.
Zoey carefully unbuckled and removed his chestplate, setting it down on the ground beside her while she carefully peeled back his blood-soaked shirt, which had almost plastered itself to his torso. She grimaced at the sight of the deep punctures, clasping a hand over her mouth, both to hide her shock and to stop herself from being sick. Half of his torso looked like a butcher shop floor. “Ohhh god…” She whispered under her breath. She repeated her mantra from before; “It’s okay, you’re gonna be okay.”
Teep glanced between them both, waiting for Zoey’s lead. She took a deep breath, pulled Rythian’s shirt back down, and turned to her dinosaur. “Let’s get him inside so we can clean up and address… this. I don’t suppose you have any medical training, eh, dinosaur?” A shake of the head. “I didn’t think so. Okay. How are we gonna get him inside?”
They both looked around for ideas, equipment. Anything. None of them exactly had much to hand. Realising the situation, they resolved to carry Rythian inside as best they could between them - Teep took most of the weight by looping Rythian’s right arm over his shoulder and getting both arms under his torso, while Zoey carried his legs and cleared the way as best as she could. It was a slow process, but eventually, they got Rythian into the still-mostly-intact kitchen, and laid him down on the countertop.
“Okay, okay,” Zoey said to herself, taking a deep breath. “Let’s get the rest of this armour off, and all the gravel and stuff out of you, and then we’ll… well. I guess you’re gonna need some pretty serious stitches, since your life stone isn’t being very helpful right now.” She started unbuckling more of his armour as she talked, and Teep helped to stack the pieces carefully out of the way to deal with later. He would’ve helped with the buckles, but claws weren’t very good for undoing small buckles. Once all his plate armour had been unbuckled and pulled away, and his gloves, greaves and boots had been added to the pile, Zoey took a deep breath and once again lifted his blood-soaked shirt. “Right,” She started, steeling herself for the prospect of having to sew Rythian up like a broken toy. “Let’s clean some of this blood off you, and then we’ll need to find something to stitch you shut with. I know where my sewing supplies are, I think…” She trailed off, wondering - with the state the castle was in - if they would still be where she’d left them.
“Alcohol,” Rythian groaned, interrupting Zoey’s muddled musings.
“Alcohol? I don’t think now’s really the time to be drinking, Rythian-” She responded, eyebrows knitted.
“Not… to drink,” He grumbled. “To clean the wound.”
“Oh. Oh, yeah, okay! Do we- do you have any?”
Rythian took a deep breath of his own. “I think… there’s some rum left. In your barrel,” He said, pausing to let the pain simmer. “I don’t think I finished it.”
Zoey nodded quietly, and looked over to Teep. “Could you get it, Teep? Can a dinosaur pour a drink?” She asked, a tiny hint of a smile creeping into her voice. Teep shrugged, and went to go find out. Zoey firmly told Rythian not to move while she went to go find her sewing supplies.
For a moment, after a short while alone, his delirium almost tricked him into thinking they had just been figments of his blood loss. Still, he clung to the hope of not being alone, just in case this killed him after all. It would be nice not to die alone. Sure enough, Teep returned, and Zoey followed shortly after. Not dying alone.
“Perfect, let’s get you cleaned up!” Zoey said, trying her best to sound cheerful. She left her sewing kit on the table, moving to the sink and filling a bucket with some warm water. It took some searching, but eventually she found a cloth to use, and started the tedious and delicate process of cleaning him up. It was a lengthy task, as she carefully worked around the open wounds, using multiple buckets of water as they became dark with the blood. Once she was happy with her work, she let Teep use the salvaged alcohol to clean the wounds, and Rythian was surprised at his own retained ability not to scream.
“I’ve sewn a bunch of fabric stuff before, so this will be easy, right?” She assured herself. “I’m really sorry, I think this is gonna hurt still.” She dipped her needle and thread into the last of the rum to disinfect it, and carefully started to sew, starting with the narrowest end of the wound. Rythian watched her carefully, and when she was starting to rely on the thread to pull the wounds closed, he put his hand over hers. He silently took the needle from her and continued his own stitches, holding the wounds as shut as he could get them with his other hand. The focus on keeping his stitching even and neat actually helped distract him from the excruciating pain.
Zoey sat back, watching him take over and trying not to be sad about it. Was she doing so bad a job? She’d never seen Rythian sew anything before, so why did he think he would do it better, especially in the state he was in? Either way, he wanted to do them himself, so she wouldn’t interfere. Maybe he was doing something magic with them, or something. Several agonising minutes later, Rythian tied off the thread and dropped the needle, letting it hang from its thread. Zoey gently picked it back up, cutting the thread and setting it down on the counter.
“We should get you cleaned up properly,” She said, standing and looking at him sadly. “You’re still drenched in blood from lying in that puddle.”
Rythian nodded curtly, and when he made no effort to move under his own power (justifiably so), Teep and Zoey once again worked together to move him upstairs and into the bathroom. Once settled into the bathtub, Teep left to go check on his watchtower, and Zoey helped Rythian out of his ruined clothing, hesitating for a moment at his mask.
“Your mask is really soaked in blood.” She said softly, but made no move to remove it.
“It’s fine.”
“We can find you something else to use in the meantime, I’m sure-“
“I said it’s fine, Zoey,” He interrupted, holding her gaze.
She hesitated, and the tension in the air between them in that moment could’ve been cut with a knife. She had so much to ask, so much to say, so much to explain. But now was not the time, Rythian was badly injured and right now that was all that mattered. “Okay,” She relented. “Do you want any help, or…?” She hesitated, and seeing his pause, continued; “I can just move stuff closer or I can help in whatever way you want me to and I promise not to make it weird- or I can just make sure you’re comfy and have everything you want. I could get you some food or a book orrrr I could get some bubble bath for you?” She giggled. “Maybe a bath bomb with glitter in it?”
Rythian sighed a soft chuckle, and looked down at his legs; he still couldn’t move them. “…I’ll be fine for now. Stay close. There could still be endermen around, and I don’t know if Tee will be able to do much against their teleportation.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine! Besides, I didn’t see any endermen about, and I’m totally a kickass rebel now so I’ll definitely be fine.” She assured him with a grin.
“Right, of course you will. Still, just… stay close, please.”
“I’ll sit right outside - not in like a creepy way, in like a guarding way, not that I think you need me to guard you, but in case you need me,” She rambled nervously, and when she noticed the ever so slight crease at the corner of Rythian’s eyes that told on his slight smile, she couldn’t help but smile back at him. “I’m here if you need me,” She finished, quietly leaving the room and softly closing the door behind her.
A surprisingly short amount of time later - either that or she’d zoned out a lot harder than she thought - she heard a certain amount of grunting and water splashing that had her guessing Rythian was trying to move somewhere on his own and struggling. She again hesitated, but knocked anyway. “Rythian? You okay in there?” She called, keeping her tone light despite her concern.
Rythian stopped at the knock, letting himself fall back into the tub from where he’d been trying to pull himself out with mostly just his right arm and struggling. He felt so helpless, so pitiful and undignified. He could summon fire and lightning on a whim, fight dragons and hordes of endermen, but now a bathtub was defeating him. Eventually, he was forced to acknowledge that getting out of this bathtub without tearing stitches was not something he could currently do on his own, given his non-functional legs. With a sigh, he tied his bloodied mask back around his face and called Zoey back into the room. She entered cautiously, deliberately diverting her gaze as long as possible.
Before Zoey figured out how to ask what was wrong, Rythian answered for her.
“I can’t move my legs, Zoey.”
“You- what? Like, at all?”
“At all. I can’t feel them either. It’s like dead weight tied around my waist.”
“Are you- can I-“
“Yes, Zoey, you can look. I have my mask and right now I don’t really care about anything else.”
Zoey turned finally, blush covering her cheeks as she realised he only had his mask. It took her a second to gather her many chaotic trains of thought into anything coherent. “So, you can’t move your legs at all? Nothing?” She reconfirmed.
“Nothing,” He parroted with a nod.
“Ok. Well, your life stone will fix it, right? It just needs time?”
“I- I think so? I don’t know,” He admitted, looking up at her with melancholy. “It’s taken it’s time already.”
“I think it was just keeping you alive. How long were you lying there?” She asked, finally moving to drain the water and fetch Rythian a towel.
“I have no idea. It was late last night.”
“You laid there all night?” She asked with surprise as she handed him the towel she was holding. “I guess it’s lucky we came back to save you when we did!”
“Hah. Yeah, I guess so.”
Once again, Zoey wanted to explain, to assure him they were here now and not leaving, but she didn’t. Instead, she crouched next to the tub and wrapped her arm around his back, ducking under his arm so it rested across her shoulders. “Well, let’s get you warm and dry, and into bed so you can rest,” She said with a smile. “Ready?”
She didn’t wait for him to give a full answer before she started to stand, dragging him upwards and into a position to sit on the edge of the tub. Rythian picked up his own useless legs to swing them over the edge, and then looked back at Zoey. “So, what’s the plan now?”
“I don’t think I can carry you on my own, except maybe if I tried to bridal carry you but-”
“Yeah, no, not happening. Go fetch Tee, make sure he’s alright too, I can wait here.”
“You’re definitely not going to fall into the tub?” She asked jokingly, though the words were laced with a hint of genuine concern.
“I’m not that incapacitated, I can stay sitting just fine,” He responded with a slight eyeroll, waving her off and out the door.
“Okay, okay, just checking,” She smiled. “I’ll be right back!”
True to her word, she soon returned with Teep in tow, and with their now practiced method, got Rythian into the main bedroom and onto the bed without much trouble.
“I’m gonna have to tidy up around here, you’ve really let the place go,” She teased, looking around at the cobwebs, dust, and various pieces of rubble as she dug around in the wardrobe for a change of clothes.
“Yeah, I… I guess I did. But you’re- you’re back.”
“We’re back,” She assured him, putting her hand over his as she sat down on the edge of the bed, leaving the folded pile of clothes on his other side. “And we’re gonna fix this place up a bit, and you’re gonna take a good proper rest, because I don’t imagine you slept last night.”
“Yeah, no, not really. I haven’t been sleeping much at all, really, especially not… here…” He admitted, his voice quieting with every word.
Zoey wanted to ask why, but thought twice of it. “Well, you’ll sleep plenty now!” She chirped, moving to follow Teep out of the room when she glanced back at Rythian and saw him watching them both- no, watching her. “Do you, uh, need anything? Have you eaten? Or no, that’s a silly question cause your life stone feeds you magic juice or whatever-”
“Yeah, it does,” He answered simply, avoiding asking for what he really wanted.
“Well, thinking about it, I better stay nearby since you can’t go anywhere, just so I’ll be here in case you need anything,” Zoey decided, moving the chair from her vanity table over to his side of the bed.
Rythian was glad not to have to ask. Instead he just smiled softly, watching her move the chair and then turn away from him and dramatically cover her eyes so he could get dressed. The process was slow, and yet again he felt the heavy weight of humiliation, but he managed to retain what was left of his dignity. As he pulled the ends of his bloodied scarf free from the back of his shirt, he realised he should probably swap it out at some point, particularly if he was going to sleep. “Uh, Zoey?”
“Yeah?” She perked up, half-turning with still covered eyes.
“You can open your eyes for a second- I don’t particularly want to sleep in this scarf. I have a spare, somewhere, I think-”
“Yeah, no, I don’t want you getting blood and nastiness on my designer bedsheets even if it is mostly dried. Where would your spare be? In the wardrobe?” She asked, getting up.
“Designer-? Doesn’t matter. It’s in my alchemical bag if I recall correctly, which would be with the rest of my stuff, wherever you put it.”
“Oh, okay! I took your stuff down to the kitchen so it’d be with your armour ready to get cleaned, I’ll go find it. There’s not gonna be anything weird in your bag, right?”
“Uh.. no? Depends on your definition of weird, I guess? It’s mostly materials and tools, just useful stuff.”
“Okay, good. I’ll be right back. Again,” She promised, and Rythian laid his head properly back as he listened to her footsteps tapping on the marble stairs softening as she descended. It was still a surreal feeling, to have been so certain less than 12 hours ago that he was going to be alone again for the future, and to have settled so easily back into her presence.
And Teep’s presence.
He wanted to ask where they’d been, where her armour was, what happened after Operation Dino Day; He supposed they’d get to have that long talk after all, even if not right now.
He lifted his head again when he heard her footsteps ascending, loosening the knot in his scarf as she entered the room.
“Found it! There was a bunch of junk on top of it, but I found it,” She teased, handing it to him. “I promise not to peek!” She said as she turned on her heel to face away and once again covered her eyes.
“Ah, well, if you did I would have to kill you,” He joked in his deadpan tone as he quickly exchanged his stained purple scarf for his older black one.
“You couldn’t,” She retorted, waiting for an extra moment after the rustling of fabric stopped to be certain before she turned back to him. She put her hands on her hips. “Even if you wanted to, I’m a super awesome rebel fighter now so I could definitely kick your butt.”
Rythian laughed, not just at Zoey’s antics, but because if only she knew just how wrong she really was. Still, he played along. “No, no, of course not, you’d definitely win.”
Zoey grinned, picking up the scarf and grimacing slightly at just how blood-soaked it really was. “Is your face not, like, super gross under there?”
“No,” He replied matter-of-factly.
“Mmm, I’ll choose to believe you this time.” She said with narrowed eyes. “I’ll go put this downstairs, you-” She pointed at him to further emphasize how serious she was, “go to sleep.”
He smiled at her attempt to be stern. “Yes ma’am,” He agreed, watching her leave before he even considered falling asleep. As much as his head swam with questions and conversation topics, the exhaustion of all the movement quickly caught up with him. At least, he thought, sleeping would give his life stone some time to work properly so he could get the use of his legs back.
Zoey took her time downstairs, filling a large bucket with warm water to soak Rythian’s clothing in, taking extra care with his scarf and deciding maybe it was small enough she could just wash it now. There was probably a reason he always wears this one and not the ‘backup’, she reasoned, and so maybe he would like to have it cleaned first. She filled a smaller bucket with more warm water, adding some soap and taking it outside to sit on the bottom step of the entrance while she worked.
The sun was now risen and shining brightly from behind the stronghold and communicating the extent of the damage to the structure through its shadow. She hummed softly to herself as she washed, appreciating the soft material in her hands; She’d never realised how nice Rythian’s scarf actually was. It made sense, she supposed, since he wore it all day every day.
The process of cleaning the scarf seemed almost unending, requiring multiple buckets of water while she kept finding more spots and stains that needed attention. Eventually, the 4th bucket of water didn’t muddy quite so much or as quickly as the others, and when she rung the fabric out she was rather proud of her work. She held it up to the light to check she hadn’t missed anything, and then, almost instinctively, brought it to her face with a deep breath. The fabric was damp, but soft, and clung to her cheeks as she admired how fresh she’d gotten it. She wondered if it did the same to Rythian - if he tied it deliberately tight or loose, if he felt the fabric brush against his lips with every word he spoke. In a way, having his scarf against her lips was like kissing him indirectly.
Ah.
Her cheeks immediately flushed bright pink, and she shyly put the scarf down, staring at it like she was intimidating it into sworn secrecy. After a brief moment to collect her composure, she stood up and folded the scarf, laying it over her shoulder.
Hoisting the bucket up into her arms, she walked over to and emptied it into the lake, then walked around the side of Blackrock Stronghold to look for somewhere to leave the scarf to dry. It was making her wish they’d stopped to grab at least a couple things on their way out of mushroom prison, because if she had her volcanic amulet this would be much easier. Maybe there was one in Rythian’s alchemical bag, she wondered, but didn’t feel like snooping through his stuff more than she’d already done. She felt like she’d invaded more of his privacy this morning than she ever wanted to.
Part of the fence that used to surround the farm was miraculously still standing at the far end, she realised, and with its position directly in the morning sun she thought it perfect to dry Rythian’s scarf; bonus, it was right next to the mooshroom’s pen, which gave her a great excuse to go and cuddle them before starting on cleaning up anything else. Of course, by the time Rythian’s scarf would have dried, she’d long gotten distracted and forgotten to take it upstairs.
By the time she’d gotten bored of talking to the mooshrooms, washing the blood out of the rest of Rythian’s clothes, removing cobwebs, and clearing up rubble, it was late afternoon. She collected his clothes from the fence she’d laid them over to dry, the day’s sunshine and gentle breeze having dried them quickly, and carried them quietly up to the bedroom. Rythian was fast asleep, lying perfectly still and breathing quietly.
Very quietly.
Zoey frowned, dropping the clothes onto her vanity and moving to his side, watching his chest with scrutiny. To her relief, he was breathing, and wasn’t dead. Still, his shallow breathing and lack of any other signs of life worried her. Maybe it would be best if she stayed here for the rest of the day, just to keep an eye on him. Just in case he wakes up and needs water, or the bathroom, she told herself.
To entertain herself, she picked out the least-boring-looking book from Rythian’s bedside shelf, and spent a couple hours flicking through it and skimming pages of technical magic babble.
Her stomach gurgled loudly. She glanced between her stomach, and sleeping Rythian.
“You’ll be fine for like 10 minutes while I pop out to the mooshrooms to get some soup, right?” She asked him in a whisper. “Yeah. You were fine all day. Don’t die while I’m not here, please. Well, don’t die at all, actually,” She continued, setting the book down on the cabinet and wandering downstairs to search for a bowl.
Thankfully, when she returned, he was still in the same position, still shallowly breathing. For a moment in the doorway she experienced deja vu and panicked only a little bit, but remained calm and once she got back to her chair at his bedside her fears were put to rest. She picked up the book again; even though its contents were going straight over her head, it was something to keep her occupied other than worrying over Rythian.
As the evening wore on, the temperature dropped and she shivered.
“Drafty in here,” She murmured at him.
Right now, she wanted nothing more than to climb into bed and snuggle up beside him. She couldn’t, she told herself, she needed to stay awake and make sure he was still alive. Instead, she got up, and looked around the room for something to occupy her, and a spot of light on the floor drew her attention to the hole in the ceiling. That was something to do, she supposed, though it would involve gathering some supplies. Still, the condenser down in the magic room would definitely be working, so she could just quickly make some new bricks and patch the hole. Wouldn’t take her long, she was a totally awesome designer. (She was an interior designer, but since she was expanding her skillset to also include exteriors now, she decided to just be a designer.)
The patching of the hole in the roof proved slightly more complex without a flying ring, but it still took her a surprisingly short amount of time to finish. Now she was once again without anything to do, and returned to her post next to Rythian. She tried picking up the book again, tried a different book, tried just thinking up her own story. Sitting in such a quiet room, after a busy day, Zoey found herself drifting in and out of sleep. After giving herself a minor panic attack more than once by jolting herself awake when Rythian took fractionally longer between breaths and convincing herself he was dying, she gave in. She needed to sleep.
‘If I sleep on his right side, which I was gonna do anyway, I won’t be near his injured side. And I can keep track of his breathing with a hand on his chest or something. Or I could lay my head on his chest and that way I would be able to hear his heart beating and feel him breathing, which is obviously the better option cause it does more things. And there’s no other reason I want to lay my head on his chest.’ She thought to herself, staring at him and chewing her lip slightly. Yes, she decided, this was a better idea than sitting in a chair next to him, because if she dozed off on the chair she wouldn’t be able to watch him at all, whereas if she dozed in bed she could still make sure he was okay.
Zoey quickly changed into a pair of pyjamas, and very carefully slid into bed next to him. Even if she had convinced herself this was the best way she could take care of him and also get some sleep, she still found her heart racing the closer she shuffled to him. A few deep breaths later, she turned onto her side and gently laid her head down on his chest, making sure she wouldn’t be anywhere near his wounds. A little shuffling to get comfortable, and a hand laid on his stomach, and Zoey was quickly asleep.