Almost dying had taken a lot of Jael, admittedly. She hadn't been sleeping well either, not after what happened. Not after what she'd seen back home and then yesterday... that was a new layer of nightmare. Somewhere between sleep and waking, Jael wondered if she had died after all. If she'd crumpled on that beach, never to wake back up. Maybe part of her had died. What was left was pulled up off the sand by Gilgamesh, and she knows she owes him.
But it's not that. In a world where her options have been be self sufficient and die... there he is. When Jael awakes in the middle of the night quivering, trembling, there he is. Asleep beside her, grip on her comforting and achingly tender. It's that way for several hours, until she can feel a shift in bed beside her. A whimper slips away before she can stifle it. Is it because the bruising has really begun to rear its ugly head? Maybe. Is it because she knows that they will perhaps need to get up soon, and she'll have to leave this dream? Maybe.
But the words are tender, and the day flickers to life around her. Burying her face in the man's neck... she's awake, yes. Awake but not quite ready to move, even if it's in her best interest.
As her keepers, Gilgamesh and Modesty may join any of Jael’s threads if they deem necessary.
Professor
