Ned sleeps for quite some time without dreaming. The nightmare, when it does come, is nowhere near as intense as the last, without Galen there to draw it out, to turn the screw. It is simpler, too - a blind, breathless fright from some unknown, unnamed danger. Ned wakes from it with a tiny, frightened inhalation.

A wolf - Jesse, his brain supplies - is sleeping curled up on him, its face pressed against his chest, one ear twitching as it lets out a long, contented sigh. The fear evaporates immediately. Ned drapes one arm over the wolf and closes his eyes, slipping back to sleep without another sound, feeling warm, and safe, and happy.