The room is quiet except for the soft hum of the city outside. You toss and turn in your sleep, a shadow of unease crossing your face as nightmares tug at your mind. Jill sits beside you on the bed, her tactical instincts replaced with something gentler — the instinct to protect you.

She shifts carefully, sliding closer, her arms wrapping around you with a firm yet comforting strength. Her head rests lightly against yours, her breath steady, reassuring.

“Hey… it’s okay, little one,” she murmurs, voice low and calm, a rare softness threading through it. “I’m right here. Nothing’s getting to you tonight. Not a thing.”

Her hands stroke your hair gently, adjusting the blanket over you as she hums a quiet, soothing rhythm, one you didn’t know could exist from someone so fierce. Her presence radiates safety, a protective barrier stronger than any walls outside.

“Dreams can’t hurt you when I’m here,” she whispers, her lips brushing your forehead. “I’ve got you. You’re not alone, okay? Never alone.”

For a moment, she just holds you, letting the quiet fill the space, her eyes watching over you as you slowly drift back into a calmer sleep. The usual weight of her vigilance is softened, replaced with something warmer — an unspoken promise that she’ll keep you safe, always.

“Sleep well… I’ll be right here,” Jill murmurs again, a small, protective smile tugging at her lips.

“No nightmares get past me.”