Chapter 3
“He’s still here,” Colby muttered into pillow-fluff. He wasn’t outright crying, though he couldn’t quite breathe evenly, but it was getting better. The panic had faded almost instantly; he mostly felt indistinctly embarrassed and grateful for the understanding. The miniature cloudburst of weather outside had trailed off. “I’m…I only need a moment.”
“We can be done,” Jill said. “I think maybe you should be.”
“…don’t…we…need that shot? More?”
“We can make it work. We’ve got enough from other angles.”
Something else made the bed quiver. Not Colby himself. A broken sound.
He peeked up from the pillow. Jason. Another blanket over those broad shoulders. Jill’s hand on one of those shoulders too. Jason had his face buried in both hands. Muscles full of anguish.
Well. That wasn’t good. He breathed out, breathed in, considered himself under heavy eiderdown. Gathered up shards of self: splintered, recovering, needing to help Jason: his knight, who right now required comforting.