It's the twitching fingers that wake her, and the subtle change in his breathing. She sits up slowly, watching him count and count, worrying some at him not getting past nine. Her voice is scratchy when she talks, her usual post-sleep voice. Maybe Stiles remembers it.

"There's ten. I promise." She shifts, sitting on the edge of his bed do he can see her. She remembers the doctors saying he won't be able to move much and that he's drugged to the gills, so she wants to make things easy on him.

"Hey, gorgeous. Good to see you." There's a faint swipe at her eye, brushing at the tears that waver. She's good. She's fine. Her boyfriend is back. She didn't lose him.