His company had been what she wanted, though sleep was a handy side benefit: Andy was tired, and now warm, and Booker's arms and voice around her meant she would not long be in the land of the wakeful. She didn't fight it, only curling her fingertips in the ends of his hair as she let out a sigh, breaths deepening as she dropped off the edge.

Booker did so much for her, comforting and loving and knowing exactly what to do to calm or soothe her even when Andy herself didn't. She hated that she could do so little for him, and just clung on the only way he'd let her.