As she fell asleep, Apollo carefully lifted the cloth and dropped it into the bowl. Quietly, slowly, he put the bowl down on the night stand and stretched out beside her, slipping an arm around her waist.

"Please be okay," he whispered softly, watching her sleep with a furrowed brow. "I don't want you to go again."

He rested his head against hers, too worried to sleep himself, and too concerned to leave her. Uncertain of how long it would take to find a healer. "I'll be here when you wake up," he murmured against her hair. "Promise."