The first thing Caspian was aware of was that he couldn’t move. Stirring as he slowly came out of the medically induced sleep he’d been put under, a low groan escaped his lips, and he shifted drowsily. His whole body felt heavy, and his limbs felt like they’d been restrained. Confused by the sensation, his dark eyes fluttered open, and he tried to focus his gaze enough to figure out where he was. He remembered collapsing just outside the capital and being carried into the ambulance on a stretcher, but beyond that, everything was hazy.

Over his head, he could see a white, paneled ceiling with recessed lights. [color=#b97703][i]Hospital?[/i][/color] He wondered tiredly, attempting to lift his head to see more. As soon as he did, he realized why he’d felt so confined. The doctors had set him in a fairly uncomfortable position. His right forearm and left leg had been elevated with slings, and an IV needle was attached to the back of his left hand. A splint held his broken wrist in place, while crisp, white bandages dressed his left bicep and thigh, where he’d been stabbed and shot. The way they’d arranged his body, he couldn’t have done much moving around even if he’d tried to.

Laying his head back down, he closed his eyes again, still half-asleep from the effects of the anesthesia. His clothes had been replaced with a hospital gown, and a sterilized blanket was draped across his hips, most likely left there in case he became too cold and needed an extra layer to warm up. Absently, he realized he wasn’t in nearly as much pain as he had been the last time he’d been conscious. He guessed the nurses had added a strong painkiller to his IV bag. [color=#b97703][i]This is the first time I’ve felt this good in a week,[/i][/color] he mused with a faint shake of his head. A dull ache still permeated his peace, a sign that he wasn’t fully recovered yet, but for the most part, he almost felt like he was healed.

Just as he began to wonder where the doctor was—he couldn’t easily push a button to call for a nurse in his current position—he heard the creak of the door and raised his head again to see who was coming. The fluids they’d been giving him had helped with his dehydration, but he still wanted to ask for some water to wet his tongue. To his surprise though, it wasn’t a person in scrubs who showed up in his room. He blinked at the sight of his father, accompanied by the head of their security team, Jacob.

For a moment, everything felt surreal. He’d gone through so much since he’d been kidnapped, waiting for Atlas to rescue him, hating the man for abandoning him, and discovering that everyone had thought he was dead. He didn’t know what to think or say. His mind went blank, but luckily, the king broke the silence.

“You [i]are[/i] alive,” Atlas breathed, dropping his cane to the floor as he rushed over to the bed and wrapped his arms around his son.

Cas’s eyes widened at the display. He hadn’t seen his father show this much emotion since his mother had died. The way Atlas embraced him now, wiping away any doubt he’d ever had that the king didn’t love him, stirred a sense of fondness inside of him that made him wish he was able to return the hug. However, instead, a grimace took over his features, and he squirmed against the monarch’s arms. [color=#b97703]“Can’t breathe…”[/color] he gasped, feeling a fresh burst of pain deep inside his chest that the painkillers couldn’t contain.

Responding to his son’s complaint, Atlas pulled back from the embrace and placed a hand on the side rail of the hospital bed to keep his balance. His eye swept over the prince’s body, taking in each bandaged wound. The more he located, the more his mood changed from relieved to enraged. “What happened?” he asked, his voice tinted with anger. “Who did this to you?”

[color=#b97703]“It’s a long story,”[/color] Cas frowned and glanced at Jacob. [color=#b97703]“Could you call a nurse and tell them I want some water?”[/color]

“Of course, Your Highness,” the guard bowed and turned toward the door.

Before he reached it, someone else pushed it open from the other side, and a doctor stepped into the room. The man froze near the entryway, clearly not expecting to see two other people in the room with his patient. After his initial surprise, though, he recovered. “Your Majesty,” he greeted the king with a respectful bow and then turned toward Caspian. “Ah, good, you’re awake.” Striding closer, he lifted a clipboard and thumbed through the pages. “Would you like to go over your charts?”

Cas glanced at his father, who looked annoyed by the interruption but waved a hand in indication that the physician could go on. [color=#b97703]“Sure,”[/color] he agreed.

“There’s quite a lot here,” the doctor mused. “I’ll start at the top and work my way down. How does that sound?”

[color=#b97703]“Whatever works,”[/color] Cas told him congenially.

“Right then. You had a minor laceration to the scalp that was stitched up. On your left bicep, the infected gash was cleaned and stitched as well. The blade that caused it narrowly missed your brachial artery, so it was a relatively easy surgery that should heal up nicely. Your right wrist was broken all the way through, but the bone was non-displaced, so it should also heal well as long as you keep it still and elevated when possible and exercise your fingers according to the guidelines of our on-site physical therapist.”

He paused to turn the page. “You have two fractured ribs. The area was injected once with Accuparacin while you were under anesthesia, which should speed up the mending of the bones. You’ll need one to two more injections over the next twelve hours, along with one or two in your wrist to hasten the healing process in that break as well.

“The last major surgery that was done was the removal of the bullet in your leg. It was found quite close to your femur, and you’re lucky it didn’t shatter the bone. The surgeon extracted it without any complications and applied packing to the wound.” He looked up from his clipboard. “All that aside, you’ve also been treated for severe dehydration, and your IV has been infused with Pansine and Amoxiran to manage your pain and speed up the healing of your other cuts and bruises.”

Caspian stared at him incredulously. Apparently he’d been in worse shape than he’d thought. It was a good thing he’d ended up back in the capital or he might not have been able to recover from all of his injuries at all. The thought made him shiver. [color=#b97703]“Um, thanks,”[/color] he managed to blurt after a moment, not sure what else to say.

“You’re welcome, Your Highness,” the doctor bowed. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

[color=#b97703]“Yeah, I’d like a cup of water if you don’t mind.”[/color]

“I’ll bring one for you right away,” he replied, turning to exit the room.

As soon as he was gone, Atlas rounded on his son with a concerned expression. “I can’t believe this happened to you… Those terrorists never should have been able to get that close to anyone in our family.” He ground his teeth. “I want you to tell me everything, Caspian. Everything you know that can help me bring those mutinous traitors to justice.”