He raises his head, for just a few seconds, looking J over. Checking on him. But the cuts, none of the cuts he gave him are still bleeding, and though the deepest one on his shoulder looks pretty rough, he can deal with it in the morning, he thinks, without too much more damage.

He falls back on the pillow with a quiet grunt. "Mmm."

J's on his way to a good night's rest for the second time in as many days. More sleep, total, than he's probably had in the two weeks previous. God only knows what that will do for him. Or if it becomes a habit.

Mitch closes his eyes too, and surrenders himself, J'd mutterings familiar and comfortable as he slips under. Tomorrow... tomorrow is another day. And they'll just have to take it as such. See where it leads them.