Jenny sat cross-legged near the fire, staring at her left hand as though it were a foreign object. Her braid hung loose over her shoulder, frayed and uneven where it had tangled during the chaos of the last two days. Every movement felt wrong, off balance, like her body had forgotten how to work.

She flexed her fingers again, watching the faint tremor in her hand. The motion should have been second nature. It wasn’t. She glanced at her bandaged stump, her jaw tightening as a wave of nausea threatened to rise.

Reed sat nearby, sharpening his knife with a rock, the metallic rasp filling the silence. His dark eyes flicked to her every so often, his usual smirk noticeably absent. For once, he didn’t have anything to say.

Jenny broke the silence first. “This isn’t going to work.”

Reed raised an eyebrow, not looking up. “What isn’t?”

“This,” she said sharply, gesturing vaguely with her left hand. “Me. Like this.”

Reed leaned back, resting the knife on his knee. “Well, you’re not dead, so you’re already ahead of most people out here.”

Jenny glared at him. “That’s not what I mean.”

“Then what do you mean?” Reed asked, his tone calm but pointed. “You want me to say it? Fine. You lost your arm. It sucks. But you’re still here, princess. So, what’s the plan?”

Jenny’s glare faltered, her expression crumbling just slightly. “I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice quieter.

Reed watched her for a moment, his gaze softer than usual. “Yeah,” he said finally. “I figured.”

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The silence stretched again, heavy and awkward, until Jenny shifted, pushing herself to her feet. She wobbled slightly but caught her balance, her jaw set in determination.

“I need to... go,” she muttered, her face flushing slightly.

“Go?” Reed repeated, his brow furrowing. Then realization hit, and he smirked faintly. “Oh. You mean go.”

Jenny shot him a sharp look. “Don’t. Just... don’t.”

Reed raised his hands in mock surrender, though his smirk didn’t fade. “Alright, alright. You’ve got this. Good luck.”

Jenny turned, making her way toward a cluster of rocks for privacy. She reached for the button of her pants, her left hand fumbling awkwardly. It took her longer than it should have to unfasten it, and by the time she managed to tug the zipper down, her balance wavered.

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“Dammit,” she muttered under her breath, her cheeks burning.

When she tried to pull her pants lower, the motion threw her off balance completely. Her foot caught on a rock, and she stumbled, barely catching herself against the nearby boulder.

Reed’s voice floated over, casual and amused. “Need a hand?”

“Go to hell,” Jenny snapped, her voice sharper than she intended.

But as she stood there, her frustration boiling over, she realized she wasn’t going to manage this alone. Not yet.

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Reed was already standing when she turned back to face him, his smirk fading slightly as he took in her expression.

“Fine,” she muttered, not meeting his eyes. “I need help.”

Reed didn’t move for a moment, like he wasn’t sure he’d heard her right. Then he stepped closer, his usual swagger muted. “Alright,” he said simply. “What do you need?”

Jenny glanced away, her face burning. “Just... hold me steady. That’s it.”

Reed hesitated, then nodded. He reached out, his hands firm but careful as he steadied her by the shoulders. Jenny stiffened under his touch but didn’t pull away.

The silence between them was tense, awkward, but Reed didn’t make a joke this time. He stayed quiet, his grip steady as Jenny finished what she needed to do.

When it was over, she straightened, adjusting her pants as best she could with one hand. “Thanks,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Reed stepped back, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Don’t mention it,” he said, his tone light but not mocking.

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Back at the fire, Jenny sat down heavily, her left hand trembling slightly as she ran it through her messy braid. Reed watched her for a moment before pulling his flask from his belt and offering it to her.

She looked at it, then at him, her grey eyes narrowing. “What’s this for?”

“You look like you could use a drink,” Reed said, leaning back against the rock.

Jenny hesitated, then took the flask. She sniffed it, wrinkling her nose at the harsh smell before taking a small sip. The firewater burned all the way down, making her cough, but it steadied her hands.

“Better?” Reed asked, his smirk returning faintly.

Jenny didn’t answer. She handed the flask back to him, then stared into the fire, her jaw tight. “I can’t even tie my damn hair back,” she muttered after a moment.

Reed raised an eyebrow. “Is that really the worst thing right now?”

Jenny shot him a glare, her cheeks flushing. “It’s not just that. It’s everything. I can’t shoot, I can’t carry my gear properly, I can’t even...” She trailed off, her voice trembling slightly.

Reed studied her for a moment, his smirk fading again. “Look,” he said, his tone uncharacteristically serious. “It’s gonna suck. No way around that. But you’re still breathing, princess. That means you’ve got a chance.”

Jenny’s gaze dropped to her lap. “I don’t even know where to start.”

Reed leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “One thing at a time. You’re not gonna figure it all out tonight.”

Jenny didn’t respond, but the tension in her shoulders eased just slightly.

Reed watched her for a moment longer, then pulled a small knife from his belt and tossed it to her. She caught it awkwardly with her left hand, frowning as she looked at him.

“Start with the braid,” he said, nodding toward her hair. “You’re gonna trip over it if you’re not careful.”

For the first time, Jenny’s lips twitched into something resembling a smile. “Thanks, I guess.”

“Don’t mention it,” Reed said, leaning back again. “Seriously. Don’t.”