( He doesn't have to search for long, Jill reaching for him the moment his hand is free. It feels better to hold it, to have him, than to be without -- her brow frowning only slightly as he clearly feels every wound left upon him by Ultima. One day she will ask more of what transpired there, if Clive ever feels like sharing. But for now she is content to rest and have this, this impossible thing she thought she would never have again.
Once Clive's breathing evens, Jill moves to lay next to him, pressing herself into his side on the narrow cot. The hand that holds his rests over his heart, her head against his shoulder, her legs already thrown over his to both keep herself on the bed and to hold him down. It won't be a restful, easy sleep -- they're both too haunted by nightmares for that -- but it will be rest.
And, with the slow rise and fall of Clive's chest to reassure her, Jill falls asleep too, only rousing in the morning with the faint sounds of activity above and around them. They must be coming into port, she thinks, through the early morning haze. She should, by all rights, join them to make it easier, but she hasn't felt this warm in weeks without Clive there to keep her warm--
Clive.
The events of the previous day wash over her with a sudden swell of grief and relief, and she cracks an eye open just to make sure that it wasn't some fresh torment. But it is Clive she's sleeping against, and a small smile washes over her face -- he's alive. )
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Once Clive's breathing evens, Jill moves to lay next to him, pressing herself into his side on the narrow cot. The hand that holds his rests over his heart, her head against his shoulder, her legs already thrown over his to both keep herself on the bed and to hold him down. It won't be a restful, easy sleep -- they're both too haunted by nightmares for that -- but it will be rest.
And, with the slow rise and fall of Clive's chest to reassure her, Jill falls asleep too, only rousing in the morning with the faint sounds of activity above and around them. They must be coming into port, she thinks, through the early morning haze. She should, by all rights, join them to make it easier, but she hasn't felt this warm in weeks without Clive there to keep her warm--
Clive.
The events of the previous day wash over her with a sudden swell of grief and relief, and she cracks an eye open just to make sure that it wasn't some fresh torment. But it is Clive she's sleeping against, and a small smile washes over her face -- he's alive. )