JJ fell asleep with her shoulder against Ty's and one hand tucked under her own ribs. She never crossed farther than that, which mattered more than he wanted to admit.
Ty stayed awake because sleep kept walking up to him wearing the wrong faces. Rui-Chai hanging from black cuffs. Daemon looking at him with the patience of a man given no warning he was about to become a cost. Gerald's scarf folded into the grief roll.
Blue slept under his collar, warm against his neck.
That was the only reason he stayed still as long as he did.
Outside the storage room, Gate Spur breathed through old vents. People moved in low voices. Metal clicked. Bandages tore. Somewhere farther down the hall, Milo cursed wire coils with the steady commitment of a man turning pain into civic service.
JJ shifted beside him. Her head tipped toward his shoulder, then stopped when the wall caught her weight.
Ty looked at her for a few seconds too long.
