His sleep had been a fitful one. Nightmares still plagued the edge of his mind. Nightmares of the barricade, of the bullets echoing in his ears, fire from the explosion he'd caused engulfing them in flame like the devil itself rising from the ground. Everything had happened so quickly but his mind played tricks on him. He hadn't even been conscious to see them die, yet he saw them dead in his nightmares. Even when his eyes were open sometimes he saw the bodies. Cosette always told him not to think of it, told him to move forward with his life. There was nothing left of the past. He tried. He tried damned hard, but still he thought of them. Of Enjolras and Eponine who'd died for a lost cause. Still he wondered if where they were was better than where they had been now.
He'd slept an entire day and some change without moving a single bit. Whatever sedatives he'd been given were finally starting to work their magic. He stopped stirring so fitfully toward the morning light. Yet he did not wake even when the sun began to shine through the windows. His face was paler than usual from blood loss, his bandages at the least had been changed, but he was not ready. He was not ready yet to face the confusion of the waking world.
He was breathing steadily at least, and on his own. The medbay was silent, not anywhere near as filled with white noise as his dreams had been. His eyes finally began to open as the sun began to set and shadow spilled into the medbay. He blearily took in the scenery around him and for a long while he didn't speak. The medicine was still heavy to keep him from feeling much pain like he had before.
All he could really do was look up and reach out to her. He wanted to say her name, tell her everything would be all right-surely she must be afraid, but he could not. His tired eyes just remained fixed on her groggily.