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Jora huffed softly, shaking her head at his attempt at humor, though there was a faint twitch of a smile on her lips despite herself. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood,” she murmured, kneeling beside the bed and carefully unwrapping one of the bandages to inspect the worst of the damage. Her fingers were gentle but precise, tracing along the cuts and bruises to assess which needed stitches, which just needed cleaning and dressing. “You’re heavy,” she admitted quietly, rolling her eyes at him, but there was no real annoyance in her tone. She carefully helped him sit up, supporting his back as she adjusted the pillows so he wasn’t straining himself. Her touch was steady, grounding, letting him know he didn’t have to worry about anything else right now. Her gaze softened as she examined his injuries. “I think we can manage without stitches for most of it,” she said after a moment, brushing her fingers lightly over his jaw and cheek. “A few of these are deep, though. We’ll clean them well, keep them bandaged tight, and keep an eye on them.” She paused, her eyes flicking briefly toward the door. “And then we’ll figure out how to handle the rest… the bodies, the mess outside. But not now. Not while Lyra is asleep. I don’t want her getting a glimpse of this.” Her thumb stroked the side of his hand, a quiet reassurance. “You focus on staying still. Let me do the work. That’s all you need to worry about.” Her voice was soft but firm, leaving no room for argument, and he could feel the determination radiating off her. Jora’s hands worked carefully, methodically, cleaning and bandaging each injury, murmuring little instructions for him to stay calm and still as she went. She caught his sheepish grin and shook her head again, softer this time, letting herself smile just a fraction. “I’ll laugh at your jokes later,” she said quietly. “Right now, I’ve got to make sure my family is whole.” Her eyes softened, lingering on him for just a moment, before returning to the task at hand. She was methodical, deliberate, and protective, making sure every bandage was secure, every cut cleaned, and every bruised spot tended to—because she couldn’t let anything else hurt him, not while she had him here, not while Lyra was still safe in the next room. |
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Sage felt a smile flicker back onto his face when she mentioned him being heavy. "Well, Im fairly certain you weren't in a very good mood when the other guys met you," he chirped. He just relaxed against the pillows after that though, letting Jora work. He'd grown used to needing help, so he didn't pay much attention to what all she was doing. He did peer down at his body as she worked, of course, wanting to gauge how badly the explosion had hindered him. He knew it would be bad, but it looked like the other bodies had taken most of the initial force of the explosion. That was definitely good. "Well....mostly whole," he noted, glancing down at the injured hand. He knew he'd lost a finger, of course, so he'd come to terms with that. He could deal with losing a finger if it meant they were all safe. Alright, for the most part. "Don't know how to explain all this to Lyra," he added with a sigh, closing his eyes so Jora could wipe off his face, clearing the blood and soot from his skin. It did feel much better that way. He murmured a soft thanks as she settled him back down again once she was done though, eyes difrting shut quickly. He was exhausted by then, so he passed out again quickly, Jora still nestled beside him, a comforting presence despite the chaos of the day. |
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Jora let out a small, relieved breath at his words, her fingers lingering just a moment longer on his shoulder before she pulled back to finish tidying the last of the bandages. “You weren’t exactly a gentle guest for them either,” she murmured, a faint smile tugging at her lips, though it didn’t reach her eyes—they were still wary, still alert, scanning him carefully as if to make sure she hadn’t missed anything. When he let himself relax, she stayed close, her hands occasionally brushing against his arms or shoulders to reassure herself that he was truly okay. She followed his gaze to his injured hand and the missing finger, her thumb lightly tracing over the bandaged knuckle. “You’re still you,” she murmured softly, almost to herself, trying to keep the tension from creeping back into her chest. “We’ll figure out how to explain it to Lyra later… slowly. We’ll make sure she doesn’t see anything that would scare her.” She wiped the soot and blood from his face with careful movements, murmuring little reassurances as she went. “There, all cleaned up. Just need a little rest now.” She settled back beside him, pressing a soft kiss to his temple, letting the warmth of her body shield him from the lingering tension in the room. As he murmured thanks and drifted off again, Jora stayed close, keeping her hands lightly resting on him, one on his chest, the other brushing over his arm. She kept her own breath even, grounding herself as much as him, letting the quiet of the room fill the space between them. Her thoughts flicked briefly to the bodies outside, to the work that still needed doing—but she shoved it down for now. Right now, he was safe, Lyra was safe, and for the first time in hours, she could let herself breathe. Her head rested against his shoulder, and she let the steady rise and fall of his chest lull her own nerves just enough to sink into a light, vigilant doze beside him. |
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Joras words had pulled his grin a little wider before his eyes drifted shut, sending him into a deep sleep. He needed it, he knew, so it was quite welcome. He supposed the events of the past few....well, it had really been about a day or less by now....but the events had taken their toll, even without being injured. He was content to sleep for as long as he wanted though. There would still be work to do, of course, but Jora had said she could contact her mother and selene, and they could help. He needed the rest, they both knew that. So he slept. When he woke, Jora was asleep next to him, and he shifted slightly to wrap his arm around her best he could with the bandages on his torso, nestling the injured hand where it was safe but he could hold her close. He drifted off again after that, though this sleep wasn't quite so deep as the last one. Either way, the soft lull of rest was very welcome. The next time he woke, he felt much better. His hearing was clearer, vision more or less back to normal. His head didn't pound quite so much. He still hurt and was achy, but that would heal with time. He was beat around pretty good a few times. He could hear Jora in the other room, talking quietly to someone. It sounded like her mom and selene, just as she'd mentioned before. He wasn't sure how they'd gotten here so fast, though when he glanced at the clock he realized he'd just been sleeping for a long time. He chuckled to himself, moving to pull himself up. When he was able to sit up fairly easily, he grunted in surprise before moving to stand, using the wall to lean on as he hobbled towards the other room. He just ..wanted to see what was going on. Check in. Be with everyone. |
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Jora had known the moment he stirred again. Not because he made much noise—Sage rarely did when he was trying not to worry anyone—but because the house felt different when he was awake. Less brittle. Less like everything might shatter if she breathed wrong. She was in the other room with her mother and Selene, voices kept deliberately low, Lyra tucked away and distracted where she wouldn’t see or hear anything she couldn’t unlearn. Jora had one hand wrapped around a mug she’d long since forgotten to drink from, the other gesturing quietly as she explained what still needed to be done, what had already been handled, what she hadn’t let herself fully think about yet. “…he’s healing,” Jora murmured, voice steady through sheer will. “Better than I expected. He’s stubborn.” A faint, tired smile ghosted across her mouth at that. “Won’t stay down.” It was almost on cue that she felt it—that subtle shift again. Footsteps. Uneven. Familiar. Her head snapped toward the doorway just as Sage appeared there, leaning on the wall like it was the only thing keeping him upright. For half a heartbeat, all the air left her lungs. “Sage,” she hissed under her breath, already moving. She crossed the room in seconds, hand coming up to his chest before he could say a word, steadying him, grounding him. Her touch was firm but careful, eyes scanning him instinctively—posture, color, pupils, breath. Relief hit her in a slow, heavy wave when she realized he really did look better. “You should not be up,” she muttered, though there was no real heat in it. Just concern. Raw and unhidden. “You’re supposed to be resting.” Still, she didn’t push him back right away. Her palm stayed against him, thumb brushing lightly as if to reassure herself he was solid, that he wasn’t about to vanish if she blinked. “Healing looks good,” she added more quietly, glancing back toward her mother and Selene, who had both gone still at the sight of him. “Told you he’d wake when he felt ready,” she said to them, though her gaze never left Sage for long. She leaned in then, forehead briefly touching his shoulder, voice dropping so only he could hear. “I’ve got things under control out here,” she murmured. “Lyra’s safe. She hasn’t seen anything she shouldn’t. And you—” her fingers tightened just a fraction “—are not allowed to prove how tough you are today.” Finally, gently, she nudged him back toward the wall, angling her body so he could lean on her instead. Then, quieter still, fierce and unwavering beneath the calm: “Now let me take care of you a little longer.” |
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Sage had expected Jora to rush over, act like a mother hen. And he couldn't deny that if did make him feel rather special. He certainly wasn't upset about it all. But he did wrinkle his nose slightly, waving her concern away. "I've been resting," he groaned, adding on a "really, I'm fine. Just wanted a change of scenery." He glanced over at the older women, who he could feel watching him with the same sort of motherly concern he could read on joras face. He offered them a slightly cumbersome wave, since the hand was still heavily bandaged. "I feel better than I look," he offered after a moment or so, looking back over at jora as she kept talking. As she spoke he nodded along, humming softly. "I know you do," he noted, letting out a sort of sigh after a moment or so. "Jora," he whined, though there was no real malice in it. "I'll not prove how tough I am on the couch," he noted, taking another step forward, gently guiding her backwards as he went. "Could use some help once I leave the wall," he added. As she mentioned letting her take care of him a bit longer, he nodded along with a grunt. "You can take care of me on the couch," he noted, pushing off the wall and reaching for her shoulder to steady himself as he moved. |
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Jora’s brows knit immediately, her mouth opening as if to argue the moment he waved her off—then closing again when he groaned and took that careful step away from the wall. Her eyes tracked every movement anyway, sharp and assessing, the way they always were when she didn’t quite believe him. “Resting,” she echoed dryly, stepping closer without even thinking about it. “You call leaning on a wall and pretending you’re indestructible resting now?” Still, her tone softened despite herself, hand hovering near his arm like she was resisting the urge to grab him outright. She caught the glance he threw toward the older women and huffed quietly, shaking her head. “You’re not helping your case,” she muttered, though there was no real bite to it. When he waved, she gave them a look that very clearly said I’ve got him, thank you, before turning all her attention back to him. At the sound of her name in that drawn-out whine, she sighed, resigned but fond. “You’re impossible,” she said under her breath, even as she let herself be guided back a step, feet adjusting instinctively to brace them both. Her hands came up at once when he reached for her, one settling firmly at his side, the other slipping around his back. “I know you won’t prove anything on the couch,” she replied, voice low and steady near his ear. “That’s not the point.” She shifted her grip slightly, making sure she had him before he pushed fully away from the wall. “The point is you don’t fall on your face trying to get there.” When he leaned into her, she adjusted without complaint, bearing his weight like it was second nature. “Slow,” she murmured, guiding him. “One step at a time. You’re not going anywhere without me, Sage—especially not today.” And despite the scolding words, her thumb pressed reassuringly into his side, grounding, protective. |
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Sage couldn't help but chuckle softly at her comment about wandering around not being resting. "Maybe not," he mused. "But once I'm there I'm resting," he noted lightly. He just threw her an amused glance when she grumbled about him not helping his case, pecking the side of her head lightly. "Seriously, I'll be fine. Just didn't want sit in there alone, it's boring," he noted with a slight shrug, the movement sending a pain down his back, but he didn't even mind so long as he was moving about all right. He just gave her a grin when she called him impossible, humming a "yeah, impossibly amazing," to her with a soft snicker, his humor coming back full force. Well, part of it was probably to distract himself from everything happening that still needed to get done and such, even with the bodies cleared up and the island secure. He did roll his eyes at her next comment though, alibet fondly. "That's what you're here for," he noted. "Can't fall if you're practically carrying me around," he pointed out, settling down on the couch as they reached it, collapsing onto the cushions with a groan and wrapping himself up in a blanket that was there. "Thanks babe," he noted, tugging her in to press another quick kiss to her head. He knew he could be a bit difficult at times, but he also knew she loved him for it. But even so, he did appreciate everything she was doing for him. Their family. Speaking of family ...he did wonder if she'd told either of the women at the table their news about being pregnant. He raised his eyebrows at her questioningly, figuring she'd understand what he was curious about. |
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Jora snorted quietly at his logic, shaking her head as she helped guide him the last few steps. “You’re unbelievable,” she muttered, though there was no heat in it. “Only you would turn ‘I shouldn’t be moving’ into a technicality.” When he shrugged and clearly felt it, her hand tightened at his side, her expression sharpening. “See? That’s exactly why you’re not allowed to decide these things,” she scolded, softer than her words suggested. His impossibly amazing earned him a look — the kind that said keep talking like that and I’ll smother you with a pillow— but her mouth betrayed her with a smile anyway. “Gods help me,” she sighed, easing him down onto the couch and immediately adjusting the blanket around him with practiced care. “If I ever leave you alone, it’ll be because you’ve talked me into exhaustion.” She didn’t protest when he tugged her closer, leaning into him as he kissed her head. Her hand slid to his chest, palm resting there, grounding herself in the steady rise and fall of his breathing. “You don’t have to thank me,” she murmured. “This is what we do. I take care of you. You scare the life out of me. Balance.” When she caught his look — that subtle raise of his brows — her fingers stilled for just a second. Jora glanced toward the table where the others sat, then back to him. Her voice lowered, just for him. “Not yet,” she said quietly. “I wanted today to just… be calm. For once.” Her thumb brushed slow, reassuring circles where her hand rested. “But soon. They’ll know.” |
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When he was scolded for not deciding when he could get up and move around, he let out a sort of grumbley snort, though he knew she was right. He'd never admit it, of course, but she was. Getting to the couch was proving to be harder then he had expected, and without her there he wasn't entirely sure he'd have made it all the way there. The look she threw him just made him grin wider, a delighted snicker pulling itself from his lips as she tucked the blanket in around him. "Nah, I won't go quit that far, I need you around still," he noted lightly, a find tone selling in his voice as he spoke, print out from the blanket up at her happily. He was sore, yes, but it had felt good to get out. Get a change of scenery, be nearby everyone else. It was just more... Comfortable somehow. Hey comment about scaring the life out of her earned a sheepish smile, and he moved to take her hand and squeeze it gently with his good hand, humming softly. "We help each other out," he mused. "Now go finish your conversation that I interrupted," he added with a soft laugh. He nodded with a yawn when she mentioned wanting some quiet first. He understood that.... It was probably a good idea. He could already feel himself drifting off again, so he just settled in quietly, letting Jora move back to the table as he drifted off. |
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Sunny Day with a Full Moon tonight
