The blood on Jack’s face bothers Daniel, even though it’s probably not his own; he brushes at it with his handkerchief, but it’s dried and clings to his skin and he doesn’t want to scrub hard enough to wake the man up.

“You’re sure he’s just asleep?” he asks for the third time, even though he can see Jack’s eyes moving and hear his steady breathing.

“Positive,” Peggy says, “and the soup’s warmed—hopefully the smell will wake him up.”