Jensen had his back turned to the elf for a moment, just a mere second, and when her voice trailed off he spun quickly around, his jacket whipping in the breeze of his turn. His head already swarmed with dark thoughts; a hand went to his daggers, but when he saw the shivering elf snoozing sweetly, he lowered his guard and chuckled to himself, rubbing the back of his head.

“Tired yourself out,” Jensen taunted, releasing a low whistle. He rotated his ex-broken shoulder and grimaced, but not in pain. A certain guilt washed over him knowing he was pushing her too far. She was, after all, just a tailor. She was not used to the stress Jensen endured to be able to function like he was now. His limbs were tired, that wasn’t even a question, but he was in control of his mind and he had the discipline to keep moving.

With a gentle tug from the wind he felt his jacket flap behind him, a warmth emanating from the names on the back he had stitched in the lining long ago. He looked to Erissa, seeing her flesh spawn fresh little bumps from the cold, and he groaned in annoyance as he smoothly lifted his coat up and off in a practiced motion. He dusted it once or twice, the weapons he had stowed in it clattering to the ground. He walked towards the woman and wrapped her body in the fabric. Her hands instantly crawled up to the edges and pulled it around her, making a cute little sound before softly snoring again.

Jensen returned to his weapons and flipped each one up in the air before placing it on his belt or in a holster, pulling out his leather fighting gloves to make room for one of his throwing glaives. He let the leather creak as he pulled the gloves onto his fingers, wiggling them to get the maximum comfort. He looked over the ledge of the mountain, eyes casting a worried glance at the forest, and with a grim shake of his head he knew they should keep moving. Regardless of how tired Erissa was, they couldn’t waste any time resting. He turned back to her, and let out a sigh of annoyance.

The elf was out for the count, and it was partly his fault for injuring himself.

He looked to Magnus and Lucious, both grazing not far off and he spotted a rather decent sized boulder he could climb. He headed towards his companion, and with a bit of a strain he carefully lifted Erissa in his arms and walked her towards the boulder.

“Magnus,” Jensen said sternly. “<Hold still by the boulder. We are mounting for two. Lucious, you follow behind us, and run further ahead if you detect trouble. Understood, my friends?>” he asked. They both whinnied and tossed their heads, Magnus trotting towards the rock where Jensen could use it as a platform to get situated on his mount, and Lucious not more than a few paces behind. The two watched as Jensen carefully jumped onto the boulder with Erissa in arms, his limbs protesting the sudden need to lift anything more than his hands. He struggled as he managed to find a good footing, and with a wince of anticipation jumped into the saddle. Magnus stirred a bit as the immortal adjusted in his seat, letting out a silent cry of pain from his nether regions and juggling Erissa in his arms until she sat side saddle, but rested against the inside of his arms.

With a slash of the reigns Magnus was off again, Lucious in tow, as the trio rode up the mountain pass. Erissa’s eyes opened for a brief moment, but with a thwack on her nose and a whisper for her to shut up and sleep she found no will power to argue, her head careening and nuzzling until she rested comfortably in his arms.

“Freaking elf,” Jensen muttered. “Knew she was getting fresh with me…” Jensen mumbled more obscenities as he tightened his grip on the reigns, and used a free hand to keep the jacket tight around her.

~*~*~

For the remainder of the day Erissa slept, her eyes opening once or twice before she nudged herself back into comfort and slept some more. Jensen’s eyes began to sag as red lines pieced the whites of them, his breathing ragged and head bobbing on its own in time with the horses. He urged them to keep a steady trot in the mountain pass. If there was ever a good time to keep themselves ahead of would be trackers, now was it. Magnus carried them both flawlessly as he offered no signs of discomfort, but when the sun began to fall and the crescent moon shown brighter, his pace slowed.

Jensen looked to the purple sky, his eyes filled with silent wonder. Long ago, back when he was twelve, his first lover Chanele Kim-Hotep had dragged him out of his bedroom to come and see the first signs of the night. She led him all the way up to the tallest tower, giggling as she held his hand tightly. He laughed with her, wondering what was up as she urged him higher and higher, until at last they reached the top of tower. There she rolled out a barrel and pulled out a supply blanket and pillow from it, clearly something she stashed earlier, and set it up for them to rest under.

That night they both sat looking up at the stars, her head resting on his chest as he stroked her raven black hair, pointing to new stars and watching the constellations birth into the new night. It was a memory that carried him a bit further, and when the gentleness of the night took over the duty of the sky so the sun could rest, he felt the weariness of his eyes start to take over.

Jensen felt his chin fall to his chest, soft hair nuzzled against his stubble as he was too tired to care. He let a bit of drool escape his lips, a small dabble that sent him deep into his own sleep. His free hand gripped his jacket across Erissa’s waist, keeping it shut and also stabilizing her. His hand on the reigns slipped low enough for him to cup Erissa’s slender frame. He had no idea how long he had traveled like that until he felt his body start to slide to one side. He woke with a start, and a graceful, silk soft hand pressed against his chest neatly.

“It is okay,” Erissa whispered. “You should rest, Jensen. You have more than earned it.” The immortal felt his eyes grow heavy again, but with a snap of his head back and a quick shake he jumped to the ground and walked, stretching his muscles.

“I’ll take first watch tonight,” Jensen yawned loudly as he covered his mouth with one hand, the other half way to the moon as he let out a sigh of pleasure. Erissa slipped from the horse and placed her hands firmly on her hips.

“If I remember last time, you had spent all night watching me. You are exhausted Jensen, and I am well rested. You are weary; I am wide awake. There is nothing to be gained with you being up so much. Magnus and Lucious are winded as well, and they need to rest.”

“I’ll be fine, leaf licker,” Jensen sassed. “You know you just want to watch me sleep like a creepy stalker. Admit it.” Jensen mumbled. Erissa opened her mouth to speak, but instead kept it shut, a patronizing smile snagging her as she looked back to Lucious. The horse stamped his foot once as Erissa giggled, clearly having finished reading his memories.

“He thinks otherwise, but I will not argue the point,” she once again stepped forwards. “I have enough meal for us to last another day, and if we ride all night like yesterday we will be in Akashima. Rest for that trip, Jensen. You have already been awake for over seventy-two hours. You have strained your body enough.”

“I have not been up that long,” Jensen yawned again, cursing himself. Erissa stepped forwards slowly in an entrancing manner.

“You have,” she asserted softly.” I know you have not slept since you arrived in Underwood with little Azza. Now Jensen, do me a favor,” she was nearly in his face, lifting one hand to his chest. “Go. To. Sleep.” She pushed gently on his flesh with a smile, and Jensen felt his will crumble.

“Fine, just don’t let anyone sneak up on us. Go ahead and keep the jacket tonight, it’s supposed to be cold and you’re a lightweight,” he mumbled tiredly as he collapsed on the spot in a dramatic fashion, curling upon himself as he easily zoned out and felt the darkness grip his vision. He looked to the inside of his eyelids and took a deep breath.

True he cared for the safety of his charge, but there was one teeny problem with his sleep as of late, and the notion of going back to the hell that awaited him in his dreams gave the immortal no comfort as the screams began to grow upon his thoughts.