Jack murmured something indistinct in reply, his consciousness already fading.
Time passed by hazy and indistinct, weakness keeping him trapped within Morozko’s bed. Jack had scattered, fragmented memories of a calm voice speaking to him, helping him drink water, wiping the sweat from his brow.
By the time he woke up for real, head still heavy but at least allowing him to process things better, Morozko was still by his side, face lined with something almost like relief.
“You’re an i***t,” Morozko said, his voice thick with some unnamed emotion.
“I feel better now,” Jack offered sheepishly, ignoring the way his arms trembled as he pushed himself to sit up. He did feel better, honestly. Not one-hundred percent, of course, but whatever had happened before must have just been a spike of il
