Silverborn?

Prologue

Stood alone beside her bed. Morrigan picked up Emmett and hugged him to her chest. That simple action alone took so much will and effort. She wanted desperately to sleep in her own bed to be cocooned in the safety and warmth of the Deucalion. She wanted to go home.

Morgan didn't know how long it took her to get out of the hospital of three floors of  Proudfoot house and all the way down to the gates in her slippers, pyjamas and cloak. Hours almost certainly. She felt as if she was dragging herself there, and she didn't know if it was her exhausted body pulling her exhausted brain behind it, or vice versa. She simply knew that she had to keep going- one shuffling, tiny step, and then another. It was dark on the path through the Whinging Woods, and the trees muttered low and deep, and somewhere in the forest something howled and she knew, distantly ,that she ought to be frightened. That on any other day, walking the path through the Whinging Woods in the pitch dark- night, on her own, would have terrified her. But Morrigan was too tired to be frightened. And even back inside her own frail self without the scaffolding of Ezra Squall's Borrowed power, she could still remember what I've felt like to truly be a Wundersmith, carried the memory with her like a talisman. Like the worn old rabbit held tight in the crook of her elbow. She would cling to that memory by the skin of her fingertips, for as long as she possibly could.

Morrigan weaved her way through the streets of Nevermoor, hoping that she was inching ever closer to the Deucalion.
As she turned a corner into a dark alley, the drive keeping her going dispersed just as quickly as it had appeared.
She leant on the wall willing herself to keep going "Just a short rest will be okay." She thought "I'll start going again afterwards." But before she got going again she started sliding down the wall, fatigue overcoming her. "No, I can't fall asleep now! I'm so close!" But it was too late she drifted off into a deep sleep...