A flunked mission a month ago led to this moment, him sitting by your bed, his hand running through your hair as you lay there, resting after he finally found you.

Oh how he wishes he could just punish those who attacked you. His desire to do so was strong, but his love for you was stronger.

He had so many things to tell you about what you missed after you were well enough, but he decided against telling you at the moment. You were healing. You needed rest. A lot of it.