Morning arrived without ceremony.
It slipped into the room in thin bands of light, pale gold stretching across the floor and climbing the edge of the bed. The machines continued their quiet rhythm, steady and patient, as if they too were waiting for permission to move forward.
Jackson had slept—barely. His head had slumped to one side sometime before dawn, his grip on Pearl's hand loosening only enough to let his fingers rest against hers instead of holding tight. When he woke, it was with that familiar jolt of fear, the instinctive check: Is she still here?
She was.
Her breathing was deeper now, more natural. Less borrowed from machines.
He exhaled slowly, a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
A soft knock came at the door before it opened. A nurse stepped in, followed by the doctor from the night shift, her expression calm but alert. Jackson straightened immediately, careful not to disturb Pearl.
"How is she?" he asked quietly.
The doctor glanced at the monitors, then at Pearl herself. "She's stable," she said. "More than that—she's improving. Her responsiveness last night was a good sign. This morning will tell us more."
Jackson nodded, absorbing every word like it might disappear if he didn't hold onto it tightly enough.
"We'll wake her briefly," the doctor added. "Just to check her orientation. It may be confusing for her."
"I'll be right here," Jackson said.
The doctor smiled faintly. "I figured."
The nurse adjusted something gently, speaking Pearl's name in a calm, even tone. Pearl stirred, a small sound escaping her as her eyes fluttered open. This time, they stayed open.
She blinked against the light, disoriented, her gaze drifting until it landed on Jackson.
"Oh," she murmured. "You're… still real."
Jackson laughed softly, the sound catching halfway. "Last I checked."
Her lips curved faintly, then her expression shifted as awareness crept in. "My head feels… strange."
"That's normal," the doctor said gently. "You've been through a lot. Do you know where you are?"
Pearl hesitated. "Hospital," she said, slower than before, but steadier.
"Good," the doctor said. "Do you know who he is?" She nodded slightly toward Jackson.
Pearl looked at him for a long moment. Not confused this time—just thoughtful. "Jackson," she said. "He worries too much. Pretends he doesn't."
Jackson swallowed. "Wow. Even unconscious you're accurate."
The doctor exchanged