Fortunately, she seems to take it in stride, laughing in a lilting, girlish way as her hand seeks out a place on his scrawny form where it can feel the soft, steady thrum of his heartbeat. It's usually at a slightly elevated rate, a combination of anxiety and caffeine keeping it higher than normal, and that's certainly true now... but gradually, it slows into something like a relaxed state, enough for him to drift off himself.

Once sleep at last manages to claim Lazarus, it has a hard time letting go.