The room had cleared out, leaving Jason and Reyna alone. Him bent over her, her forehead covered with a sheen of sweat brow furrowed with pain, bandages abandoned on the bedside table.
“Gods Jason, I’m just so tired.” Reyna said into his shoulder. She took a shaky breath and pulled away from him.
“I know Rey, I know.” He responded.
“And it fucking hurts. It just won’t stop hurting.” She took another breath, each one a struggle.
“I can’t.” Jason opened his mouth to reply, but registered her voice, the don’t push me Jason, I don’t have the energy to push back voice and closed his mouth.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I’m sorry, I’m trying.”
“It’s okay. It’s okay we’ll figure it out. We’ll just-“ He sighed. “We’ll just bandage it again, and get some ambrosia in you, and you’ll be okay. Okay?”
“Okay.” She whispered. He grabbed her face in his hands and pressed his forehead to hers. She grabbed his wrists and held him there for a second, following his eyes as they went from the bruises on her neck to the burn and scrapes on her shoulder to the gash on her bicep. It was deeper than she cared to admit.
“Looks like I’ll just have to be left handed for the day.” She said with a wry chuckle as she pulled away from him.
“Looks like it.” He echoed bitterly.
She laid a hand on his arm. “Cover for me out there?” She asked as if there was a chance in hell that he’d say no.
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