(Pretty much took chapter 37 word for word i'm ngl)

Snowy air blew inside from the cracked-open door as Jacks stumbled inside, a deep gash on his side. You knew you should shut it, but you went to him first. You’d never seen him injured, and it was surprisingly terrifying.

“Jacks—” You shook his cold shoulders, gentle but firm. You didn’t know much about tending to injuries, but recalled he hadn’t let you pass out when you’d been bleeding. “Please, stay with me. I don’t know what to do.”

The glittering blood was spreading across his doublet, turning the smoky gray to red. Your chest clenched at the sight of it; you wished you hadn’t just sat in the tavern, you wished you’d gone out looking for him. As a Fate, Jacks didn’t age, but he could die if injured badly enough.

You needed to mend him quickly. You needed to take off his doublet, clean the wound, then stitch it up.

“Is the weapon still in there?” You reached for his cloak to push it farther back.

“It’s fine.” Jacks grabbed your wrist, stopping your hand from exploring. “I just need a blanket … and some sleep."

He tugged you toward him as if intending you for the blanket.

“Oh no—I’m not a quilt.” You braced your free hand against the wall, stomach tumbling as you looked down on his hazy blue eyes. “I need to stitch you up first.”