He follows her guidance, exhaustedly pliant, face still wet with tears, but not sobbing.

There's a brief, terrified moment, and I don't want This, but-

But there's no point in fighting, and-

(And it doesn't feel like That anyway.)

"Wanna do- better." (For you.)

She tenses up when the fear washes over him, but it's gone again before she can react.

"You will do better. I know you will, Nova. You've done so well already."

He curls slightly, not enough to draw away from Pradnakt, just make himself smaller against her.

"As you say," he murmurs tiredly.

She draws up the cover and turns off the light.

"Just rest, for now. Everything's all right."

And he does. It takes him a little while to drift off, but once he does, it's deep, and surprisingly peaceful. (Exhaustion, and the alien feeling of safety guarding against restlessness.)

She's not far behind, if a bit less peacefully so, holding him protectively.

He will sleep through, probably until morning - and perhaps a little longer than he is used to sleeping, his internal clock a little thrown by the emotional overload of the night before, and the comfort Pradnakt's giving him.

She's certainly not going to wake before he does.

He goes still when he wakes, takes a moment to remember where he is and why, and then just- stays still.

He should get up, but he doesn't want to disturb Pradnakt.

(And if there's a tiny part of him selfishly enjoying the contact, no-one needs to know.)

After a moment, she shifts, and after another, she gives him a squeeze. "G'morning."

"Ah- g'morning," he says quietly in response.

"This is nice."

He doesn't respond immediately. And then gives a tiny nod, a quiet, affirmative hum. (He is fairly sure that it is, it's not even just that he's agreeing with Pradnakt.)

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry about last night."

He blinks at that, confused. "I-"

Reminds himself that he hasn't got in trouble for asking questions so far. "Why?"

"It upset you, and that's really not what I'm trying to do, here. I should have at least told Nine to wait until morning."

"Oh," he says quietly, pensively, frowning slightly. "I-it's- fine?"

(Despite the confusion of it, he's- the way it ended was. Good.)

"Well, I'm still sorry about it." She gives him a gentle squeeze, and then brings her hand up to pet his hair. "I want things to be good for you here. You deserve it."

The hairpets get a favourable response once he realises that's all she's doing.

He shakes his head a little at her words. (But- but it's what she wants, and that has to matter more than what his old master told him about what he deserved.)

"Yes you do. It's easy to miss in all the fear, but you're a real sweetheart, Nova - kind, and thoughtful, and very brave."

He's silent, trying to wrap his head around that. (He's very not used to people saying positive things about him.)

She gives him time.

"And even if you weren't, you wouldn't deserve what happened to you. Nobody deserves that."

He's silent for a long moment. "I- as you say," he murmurs. (He can believe other people don't, he just can't apply that to himself.)

She sighs. "Well, nobody here is going to hurt you like that, at least."

He's not entirely sure he completely believes that, but-

But it is somehow reassuring to hear it.