Three days passed in a blur. Jaxon spent most of them asleep, his family refusing to let him do anything but rest.
Sometimes, when he half woke, he would see someone sitting beside his bed. Cindy, Isabel, Natasha. They took turns, never leaving the room empty for long.
"Hehe, this feels nice, Brother," Cindy giggled as she fed him carefully with a spoon.
Jaxon opened his eyes just enough to look at her. "You don't have to feed me, Cindy."
"No," she said firmly. "You're injured. I'll take care of you."
He gave a weak smile and let her continue.
Not just her, sometimes, Isabel or Natasha wiped him clean with a warm cloth. Jaxon remembered Isabel doing the same thing when they were younger, back when he was sick or hurt. Back then, it felt normal. Now, it felt… strange. Not bad, just unfamiliar.
