Ivan somehow managed to pull out of his unresponsiveness on his own, taking in a deep gasp and jolting as if he'd had a wire thrust up his spine. He took in deep, ragged gulps of air, the blue tint on his lips and cheeks draining away, leaving him pale with a thin sheet of sweat running down his forehead. His trachea finally relaxed back into a position where he could breathe properly. By the time his breathing slowed down, tears were running down his now flushed face. He registered a slew of unpleasant smells, looking down at himself and seeing what was once the contents of his stomach on the floor. He gagged a bit and almost went faint, quickly looking up and trying to remember where he was. He started with simple things, forcing himself to mentally recite his name, age, where he was from, where he was going... then the more complex details started to flood in, like the caravan trip and Regina, and his attack.... the last thing he remembered clearly was coming up to some kind of building, being carried by Raven. He assumed that was where he was now, although his vision was too blurred to clearly see much. 

He carefully sat himself up, ignoring the ache in his chest. He was now surrounded by blankets and pillows on the floor, but other than that the room was a blur. "...Baldur? Jameson? Skylar? Vhere is everyvone.. о боже, у меня болит голова..." His words dissolved into an incoherent whisper, and finding he lacked the strength to hold himself upright he fell back on the blankets and pillows.