Lincoln felt something brushing his face and quickly jerked backwards, his eyes blinking rapidly as he tried to focus on what was touching him. The cover from Tasha's pillow was getting sucked in and blown away by his breath and was tickling his face when he breathed in. He shook his head slightly and rubbed his face with his non-occupied hand before he stopped in his tracks, his free hand resting on his face as his eyes peeked out from between his fingers as he looked at Tasha, curled up on her side and holding his hand still. He had forgotten where he was for a moment, his nap having disorientated him.

	He was glad to see that she was still there, that they hadn't taken her away from him while he had slept, that she was alive even if not 100% well again. He was unable to put into words or even actions as to just how happy he was that she'd survived the surgery. Reaching down to his thigh, Lincoln nipped himself [i]just[/i] enough to make sure that he definitely wasn't dreaming. Nope, that hurt, he was awake and this was real. He leaned in and pressed his dried lips to the back of her hand and rested his forehead on it gently as he took some calming breaths. His face slowly rose and he watched her face, taking in each crease, line and pore as if it would be the last time he would get to see them.

	Standing up slowly, Lincoln gently slipped his hand from hers and gave her a soft kiss on the top of her head before stretching out the muscles of his back. Sleeping on a chair was never a good idea, especially when you're hunched over the side of a hospital bed at the same time. He didn't mind though, of course he didn't mind. His spine cracked particularly loudly and his eyes widened as he stared down at Tasha, hoping that he hadn't woken her with it.