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"Loads. Sasha never-" he lowered his voice, because she was in the infirmary too, "never gave him a ******** thing. And s**t got hairy more than a few times."

His tone softened.

"But with him okay and you back-"

Harrison steadied the cup.

"s**t. Sorry. Take it slow. You okay?"

"I'm - I'm okay - " He wasn't. Rep's touch and his soft words slipped between the cracks in the walls, and Jordan closed his eyes and pressed the side of his face against his pillow as the tremor returned, amplified. "No, I'm not," he admitted, barely audible. The mental exhaustion and trauma were rapidly catching up to him now that he was conscious, and in spite of Ferros interposing himself to blunt the edge of the remembered nightmares, the terrors and the vulnerabilities threatened to overwhelm him.

He'd known Jordan wasn't okay but hearing it confirmed just made the knot of worry tighten all the more. He felt like he hadn't been there when he should have been, when Jordan was captured. It hadn't been possible to change but still it didn't alter the fact he blamed himself in some ways. But he had no magic cure, no ideas on what he could do to help, all he could offer was to resolutely be there. He didn't even have to speak it aloud, Harrison said it before he needed to, all he needed to do was nod and add his own agreement.

"Aye. We aren't going anywhere."

Jordan seemed so small and weak.

It was more than he could have hoped for. Rep had never thought the worst, he'd had faith the whole time, a kind of optimism that Jordan would pull through, that they could get him no matter what the odds.

Harrison wasn't an optimist. There'd been murders, recently- done on groups of full hunters. The island had been ransacked. There'd been new graves from that too. Even if they hadn't found a body, Harrison could do the math.

But what he hadn't even accounted for was that the Horsemen were arrogant sons of bitches. They still thought of themselves as the biggest and baddest fish in the pond. Like they could come here and toilet paper the campus without consequences. That was their mistake.

And it was enough of a mistake to give Jordan a chance.

His thoughts wandered to their bed too. He'd been afraid that the bosses would kick them out soon, and now he realized, ironically, they'd have to move either way.

"You were out on your promotion mission too, right?" Harrison asked. "Outta being a trainee?" He smiled wryly. "So in addition us, and your Phoenix guys, I bet Allan's got a new coat that's been waiting on you."

They couldn't catch a break with promotion missions. With their track record, Harrison was starting to think maybe he'd better put his off.

Jordan had actually forgotten. He stilled, temporarily distracted from impending meltdown by the reminder. "Not sure I distinguished myself well enough for actual promotion," he said dryly, but with a fragile edge to his tone. "s**t, I'm not looking forward to writing the report." He smiled shakily to show that he was joking. Mostly.

He'd be going back out on missions as soon as he was on his feet again, he knew that; being a hunter meant that you didn't get to hide under the covers anymore, unless you had a genuine psychotic break, in which case being taken out of the line of fire could mean permanently. He took a slow breath and tried to settle his rattled nerves. Maybe he'd go talk to Killzone after he was out of this bed.

"I don't know," he answered, his eyes darting to Rep; he was at once relieved and worried that Rep wanted to stay. "I'd like - well - don't do anything dumb?" he half-pleaded.

"Well you survived." Rep offered idly in reply to the doubts about promotion, as far as he was concerned, walking out of that prison alive and relatively sane was a feat worthy of promotion any day of the week. He'd only been in there a couple of hours and it had him still questioning stupid paranoid things and left with that lurking anxiety that he could still wake up from this.

He fell quiet though immediately at Jordan's response to his question, his expression going from thoughtful to as neutral as he could hold it in an emotional flinch. He didn't want to give away how much it had felt like being scolded, the irrational sting taking him by surprise with its intensity. That inner voice that questioned everything all the time kicked into overdrive - was that what everyone always assumed? That everything he thought would lead into him doing something dumb, getting himself and them into trouble? The flutters of almost childish enthusiasm he'd felt at finding a way to stay here in defiance of being a sensible grown up and leaving to the dorm to sleep, got quickly pushed down. Had Jordan thought he'd have started a fight with the techs or something? He couldn't be sure.

Even Harrison seeming to agree with the idea didn't set him entirely back on track and rather than replying, he simply looked away, eyeing their hands.

"Yeah, it was just a thought."

"Don't start thinking we're here just for your sake. I just happen to like it here, is all. The white decor. The prompt service. That hospitaly smell."

Jordan pulled their hands closer, and his knuckles brushed Jordan's cheek, which was scruffy. He used the flat of his hand to push some of Jordan's hair out of his eyes.

"You're worth some trouble," Harrison said, "And you got Ferros taking care of you, so-" he looked at the IV bag, "bet they'll give you a clean bill of health in no time."

"I'd feel safer," Jordan admitted. He closed his eyes and sighed quietly, letting himself relax again, slowly, as the final nagging doubts about this being reality faded. " ... I missed you guys."