"Mikhail stirred, accepted the pain of his injury as part of the healing process, as part of the mechanics of living. He turned his head. His dark gaze sought and found Jacques, rested on him like a touch. "Is he all right?" His voice was very soft, but commanding all the same. Mikhail was authoritative no matter the circumstances. Jacques looked up, pale and wan, flashed a grin, and winked. "I spend a lot of time pulling your butt out of trouble, big brother. You would think a man a good two hundred years older than me would have the sense to watch his own backside." Mikhail smiled tiredly. "You get pretty cocky when I am lying on my backside."