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After talking with Melvin and eating a very quick breakfast, Peyton had returned to Noah's room and folded herself into the chair beside his bed once again. It wasn't comfortable, but that didn't matter. It was nothing to what the Life trainee would feel when he finally woke up.

Sleep had washed back over her surprisingly quickly, a mark to her exhaustion, and with sleep had come dreams. Awful recounts of darkness, stench, and the disgusting warmth of blood closed in around her ankles. The sound of scurrying in the dark, or deep rumbling that shook the 'ground' beneath her feet. This time, she was alone in that blackness, and when the hail of bugs had rained over her, and that sting at the back of her neck and made her fall, she sank beneath the bile and blood, deep, impossibly deep, where unseen giants swam, brushing her body as she circled...

The petite teen jerked awake, damn near spilling herself out of the chair before wide eyes took in enough of the hospital room for her to remember where she was, and with that came the knowledge of why. Wide-eyed, she turned her attention down to the tall figure on the bed. He wasn't moving, but there was a tension to his body that hadn't been there before, and it made her lean closer until small hands were resting on the rail of his bed as she rose up to her knees on the chair. "Noah?" Just in case, she whispered it, not wanting to wake him if he was still out.

There were reasons they put burn victims into chemically induced comas. Normal humans were just not equipped to deal with that much pain. It could cause shock, or even prove fatal.

She stared down at her tall, handsome boyfriend, and barely recognized him under the bandages, the singed hair. It made her throat tight, her chest ache, and she wanted to badly to reach out and touch him, to hold his hand, to give him even an iota of comfort, but there was nothing she could do except stick close. "I'm here, baby." Again she whispered it, and her quiet voice was tight with worry.

Her name, barely a whisper, but definitely her name, followed by a whimper that brought a lump to her throat that made it hard to breath. "I know, I know it does." Her hand had left the rail of it's own accord, and by the time she realized it her fingers were hovering over the soft brown of his newly shortened hair. It hung there for almost a minute, uselessly, before finally dropping back to where it had been.

Her voice was thick

<His weapon will heal him, screechheart.>

But he's in pain now.

Sinking back on her heels she turned to look out the door, before gazing down at Noah with lips pressed. "I can find a tech, get you something to take the edge off?"

"It's okay," she soothed, climbing to her feet. "Hang tight, I'll find someone." She pat the edge of his blankets, unwilling to cause him pain, but unable to stop herself from reaching out.

She hurried out and headed down the hall in search of a Tech, and came back a few minutes later with one in tow. They had a syringe in their hand, and an annoyed expression etched on severe features. Peyton was ignoring the grumpy look they were pegging her with, far more concerned with Noah and getting something in his system to help ease the pain.

"Alright, this stuff is pretty strong." He was speaking to Noah now, fiddling with the IV that was plugged into the bend of his arm. "You're going to feel a little fuzzy, but it'll help with the pain." The syringe was emptied into a little nozzle on the drip line, then the tech made their leave with a last impatient stare towards the dainty Sun that took his place at the side of Noah's bed.

"You don't have to apologize." It was the second time he'd said he was sorry now, and she wasn't sure why. Sorry he had gotten hurt? Sorry he could barely talk? She didn't think he had anything to be sorry for, and it made her chest hurt hearing it.

The chair was moved closer before she sat again, but she kept to the edge, small hand moving so she could trace the curve of his hand from wrist to the pinky with the tip of a finger. The bandages didn't extend this far, she wasn't sure why, but at least this small part of his hand seemed to have escaped the fire. It was why she'd hooked her finger around his while he'd been sleeping, and it was the only part of him she was willing to touch until he wasn't in writhing agony.

"Laz will fix you up." of that she had no doubt. The dog was probably already working furiously to get his partner back on his feet.

She almost took her hand back at the he'll, afraid she'd hurt him, but as he relaxed, so did she. "He's a good partner, he really cares about you." Only more recently had she leaned that not ask bond were as mutually friendly as the one she shared with Warrick, like Laz and Noah. To her that just seemed wrong, and the demon gave a gruff grumble of affection before sinking back into silence.

Out was very obvious that talking was hard for him at the moment, be it from pain, our the drugs. She didn't want him hurting more than he had to, but the silence that settled in between short shops of conversation seemed loud and unbearable.

Frowning, she glanced again towards the door, a thought coming to mind. "You don't have to talk, let Laz work, okay? You can listen though. I could read to you, if you want. Taym bought me the His Dark Materials series, you know, the Golden Compass?" She was on the second, but she could start on the first glut Noah. "I could go get them."

"Okay." It was automatic to lean in as if she meant to kiss him, but she stopped just short of actually touching. Instead she kissed the air over his forehead, then headed out the door at a quick pace to go grab the books from her room.

When she returned her arms were full of all three books, as well as bottle of coke from a vending machine, and a folded blanket. The hospital chairs just weren't that comfortable.

The blanket was draped over the chair, folded up at the edges to give the hard arms a little padding, then she settled into it, short legs drawn up and fold indian fashion as she took the first book and opened over one knee. She was a little choppy in the beginning, having not read allowed in a long time, but eventually she settled into a smoother run.

She read until his breathing grew slow and even, and then kept reading, because hearing her own voice was better than the silence that would have crept in if she'd been simply reading in her own head. If he woke, it would be to her voice, soft and consistent. She read, stopping only if Noah needed anything.

Eventually though she'd fall quiet as well as darkness pressed in against the windows. Sleep came quickly, but with it came nightmares, and her night was anything but restful. A few times during the night she'd get up to take a walk, to check in on the other injured hunters, but she was there in the morning when he woke up. Sitting slouched in the chair beside his bed, head resting against the back, and eyes closed.

She might even have been sleeping, but given the state of her dreams she would have been happy for any reason to wake up.