DJ wasn't a stranger to disrupted and horrible sleeps - being a victim of trauma himself. At times in the dead of night he could be found with his guitar up in the Arboretum, taking solace in the plant life and solitude. On the occasion he could be found taking brief naps in places around the ship as well - but tonight he was wide awake.

He was looking for a comfortable spot to settle when he had spotted Beverly in a quiet corner. She looked ragged and pale and didn't look like she was resting well at all. DJ didn't need to have empathy to know and understand what she was going through. He didn't know the how's or the why's but he could understand. He had recognized the kind woman from the funeral party and decided to at least try and return some of that kindness.

From one wounded soul to another.

The tall lanky man sat, settling with his guitar in his lap and data PADD by his leg. He also had a thermos of green tea with him - one of his favorite drinks to relax. He also made sure to sit at a comfortable distance outside of flail range in case she awoke suddenly. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her.

He strummed at the strings very quietly as he sat - eyes closed. He wanted to be there to comfort - as well as in his own way, protect.