Faith shrugged. "I've had worse," she said vaguely. She thought that she could really use a bit of pain medication, but the nap had done her good, and she thought that she should head out and get something to eat once someone checked her over to make sure she wouldn't do herself any more damage. But she was a slayer. She was built for this sort of shit. She suspected she was already starting to heal.
Which, speaking of, she raised an eyebrow as Mal started to stir, smiling a bit fondly and rolling her eyes as she started to sit up in bed, stretching out what muscles she couldn't from her lying down position.
"Should stick around," she suggested. "When he gets up. He'll want someone to chat with that isn't going to look at him like he's some kind of failure."
Regardless of Jaime's response to that, if there was one, Faith moved to go see Simon and see if she could be dismissed from the infirmary. Hopefully with a handful of pain medication, but she'd deal if there wasn't any.
Mal stirred awake, one eye opening at a time, dimly aware that he was somewhere with bright light, and in a great deal of pain.
"Niska," he muttered, frustrated. "You kuh-ooh duh lao bao jurn," he groaned softly, then said without much enthusiasm. "Nee tzao ss-ma? Nee-yow wuh-kai chang?" before his eyes managed to open entirely.
He clacked his lips together, recognizing how dry they were, and blinked in confusion, not entirely comprehending where he was. "Jaime," he said, still half delirious. "Peow-liang de shaojie, booleetah, goowo..." before he came back to his senses, sort of, and just sort of continued to blink at her. "What's... happened?"