She slept. This was always how it went after any sort of major healing–but especially so, this time. It’s one thing to heal a traumatic injury soon after it happens. Most of those she heals are in good shape (otherwise), and she’s simply accelerating the bodies own work. But Jesse had literally dragged himself home and been too weak to bear much of the brunt himself, and so….it had been Ambrosine’s burden to bear.
This was fine. It was what she signed up for, after all. But she slept well into the next day, and then only roused herself to stand in the kitchen and mechanically shove as much food in her face as her stomach could handle.
And to deal with Jessica cleaving herself to her side. “I’m okay, love,” she murmured between bites, gently stroking her wife’s back. “Just the usual healing fatigue.”
It was a fact of their life. Sometimes Ambrosine would drag herself home exhausted. Sometimes Jessica would come home with her armor in dire shape and a litany of injuries herself. Both of them danced with danger and secrets, and it was the price they paid.
“Jim told me what happened.”
“Mm,” Ambrosine replies, prying herself loose only to vanish into the depths of the pantry.
“Who’s keeping an eye on Cap now?”
“Tove. She’s good at the sustaining stuff. She can handle him from here on out, really. Although I feel a bit sorry for him, because Tove.” She stopped eating cheese about three bites after her stomach told her to, and shuffled back out into the kitchen proper. “I’m going back to bed,” Ambrosine declared, but she snatched Jess’s hand and dragged her along with.