You had been in the infirmary for a while, laying idly as you slept. We still weren’t entirely sure what had happened on that mission for you to end up in such a state since your glasses has broken, but of course I didn’t often leave your side.

I sit in the bedside chair, gently holding your hand as I look you over for the millionth time, wondering just how long it would take for you to wake up.

I have faith, of course. I know that you’ll wake up… it just hurts to watch you like this.