Regardless of what gods Dirk had prayed to, it wouldn't bear any results till nearly a week later. Jake's body went through the early stages of decomposition, but after rigor mortis passed it began to slowly heal.

The island boy wasn't the type to think far enough past the 'killing' part of his last moments. He didn't know that his body would revive and expected to have his remains burned, much like he had to do with his grandmother when she was impaled. Inside Jake's own subconscious though, it was entirely possible that he knew everything would be okay after he offed himself. To what extent he understood that feeling was up to debate.

The first signal that something was off should have been the incredible throbbing in his head, the second being the delirium following in suit when he tried to roll over, but this was Jake-ever aware of his surroundings-English. It wasn't till his hand knocked something that he even opened his eyes (still unaware of his revival) thinking he was simply back in his room after a rough scrum with the bro-bot. Everything was blurred and he was (slowly) groping around the bed he was laying in to find his glasses.

"Blasted...where the devil did they go..."