The world came back in pulses.
Not sound, not light, just pressure behind Aiden's eyes.
He lay on the safe room couch, a damp cloth cooling his forehead, the hum of washers upstairs seeping through the floor in a low, constant vibration.
Someone had killed the overheads; the room was lit by a single lamp in the corner.
"Still alive," Kael's voice said softly, nearby.
"Debatable," Aiden croaked.
He tried to sit up.
Hands pushed him back.
"Absolutely not," Nia said. "You're on enforced horizontal duty."
"Mutiny," he muttered.
He blinked until the blur became faces.
Nia perched on a crate, arms folded.
Rell on a stool, watching him with wide eyes.
Rin at the table, fiddling with her recorder.
Kael on the floor, back against the couch, one hand on Aiden's forearm to keep him from trying to move.
His thumb rested just above Aiden's wrist, on the pulse point.
Not checking.
Just there.
"How long?" Aiden asked.
"Couple of hours," Kael said. "You had a very dramatic nap."
