[Through it all, Jill remains steady by Joshua's side, waiting while he regains control of his cough, his breath, himself, amid the lingering darkness of wherever night had taken him. She's silent, too; there's a shift to how he holds himself after she speaks the first time, and so she doesn't keep trying to lure his conscious mind to the fore. Not while he needs to focus on finding his own of steadiness, his own kind of silence.
Would that she could soothe his lungs, though, or quiet the curse enough that he ceased to bleed. Would that she could do anything besides stand here and hope against the reality that the latter might have spread – that even in sleep he's not safe from a fate that would see him taken from this world well before his time.
But she can't think like that. Whatever has happened, he's managing his way through it, and though her name may come out more like a breath than a word, it's progress enough for her to make it into a lifeline of her own. A way to ground herself in the present and not in a grief-coloured future.
When he manages to speak again, her answer comes quick.]
I think so, yes.
[She's almost sure of it, really, but the existence of that almost is enough to keep her from being more decisive. Not that it matters either way; he was still set aflame before her, fissures of aether crackling all across his skin.]
Let me get you some water. [As she rises, she asks:] How are you feeling now?
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Would that she could soothe his lungs, though, or quiet the curse enough that he ceased to bleed. Would that she could do anything besides stand here and hope against the reality that the latter might have spread – that even in sleep he's not safe from a fate that would see him taken from this world well before his time.
But she can't think like that. Whatever has happened, he's managing his way through it, and though her name may come out more like a breath than a word, it's progress enough for her to make it into a lifeline of her own. A way to ground herself in the present and not in a grief-coloured future.
When he manages to speak again, her answer comes quick.]
I think so, yes.
[She's almost sure of it, really, but the existence of that almost is enough to keep her from being more decisive. Not that it matters either way; he was still set aflame before her, fissures of aether crackling all across his skin.]
Let me get you some water. [As she rises, she asks:] How are you feeling now?