To the left of the bed, one of the machines emits a quiet, electronic burble; a fresh dose of the drug cocktail she's been on for the last week. Wrath grimaces slightly, licking her lips again at the strange plastic taste that intrudes in the back of her throat.

"You must miss her a lot." She strokes North's thumb with hers. "I'm really sorry." She wishes she could smooth away those care lines just as easily. "Having a sister," she murmurs.

She's trying to fight it, because North's here. What if he never comes back? What if she wakes up and is a different person? But she can't help but blink sleepily anyway.