Letting go of a relieved breath, Wil sat back on his feet, still kneeling beside his father. "Ceyelle..."

The old woman smiled kindly in response to her name, slowly stepping up to Wil's side. Her long silver hair was elegantly braided over her shoulder, and though her wrinkled, caring hazel eyes looked on Wil for the first time, the two were certainly no strangers to each other. She leaned down and intently looked him over, searching him for injuries. "Are you alright, Wil?"

Wil nodded, drying his eyes with the back of his hand as they continued to water. "Yeah, I'm fine. But my father...he needs a lot of help, and quickly."

Ceyelle's brows furrowed. "Your father..." She looked down on Horatio's face curiously, having completely ignored him until Wil brought her attention to him. A sudden wave of realization came over her as she seemed to recognize him, and a surprised gasp was the only sound from her for a long moment. She met Wil's gaze again, her eyes still wide with shock. "He's...your father?"

Wil nodded tiredly again, knowing it would be far from the last time he'd have to navigate an awkward introduction. He hoped that a fellow covert agent would instead be able to focus on what Horatio so desperately needed at the moment. "I just got him breathing again, and I know he has several broken bones. He needs to be treated as soon as possible."

Finally understanding their dire situation, Ceyelle nodded as she gently brushed her hand against Wil's cheek. "As do you, dear. That water is very toxic, we need to get it out of your eyes before any permanent damage sets in." She righted herself and glanced only briefly at Derek, silently studying him before returning to Wil. "My speeder is just over there...but I can't take all of you."

"Don't worry," Wil shook his head as he, too, looked to Derek. "He's staying. Derek, Ceyelle," he waved his hand between the two, "Ceyelle, Derek. He and Sakiko have been helping me ever since my father and I got separated." Returning to Derek once more, Wil blinked his blurring eyes. "Did Sakiko go back for Wyliaa?"

Only begrudgingly answering a direct question asked of him, Derek gave an irritated grunt. "Most likely."

"As soon as I get these two treated," Ceyelle cordially pledged to Derek, "I'll come back to collect the rest of you." Though she got nothing but a silent stare in return, she began to stoop towards Horatio, and Wil, too, moved to lift his father's feet. Derek's heavy footfalls, though, echoed about as he stepped to Horatio's side and effortlessly scooped him up into his arms before the other two could react, carrying him toward the speeder without a word. It spared a frail old woman and an even weaker young man from having to struggle with Horatio's weight, and Wil couldn't help but smile at the grumpy Loreean's ongoing reluctantly helpful behavior.

Apparently Sakiko didn't have to be present to influence Derek's actions after all.

Again...

Faint voices floated through his mind, reaching him over the pain that was slowly building and preparing to breach his consciousness.

How did you free them!

...please, stop 'urting 'im...

Throw him into the lake.

A woman's piercing shriek tore through his ears, though only briefly, eventually replaced by complete silence. Only after an eternity in the darkness alone did he finally hear distant, muddled words that somehow sounded both male and female at the same time, confusing him.

You'll be okay...

It was both a statement and a promise, but he wasn't sure he could believe it in his dazed state, unable to process much of anything. It wasn't until it was repeated, this time unmistakably by his son Wil's voice, that Horatio began to fight his way back to consciousness. He had to.

"Dad...you'll be okay."

A weak, pained moan escaped his parted lips, disrupting a smoldering fire throughout his chest. His throat and his lungs burned like nothing he'd experienced before, and he half expected to see smoke billowing away from his mouth as he managed to open his eyes. They were slow to respond, but he blinked them into submission just as an old woman sat beside him, gently resting a hand on his shoulder as she looked on him with a soft smile.

"Take it easy, Horatio," she soothed, her silken Coruscanti accent instantly calming his nerves. "You're alright."

Unable to immediately access much of his memory, he couldn't bring her face to recall, but her mere presence still kept his anxiety at bay. He took a long moment to slowly look about, finding himself alone except for the kind woman at his side. There was nothing immediately identifiable about the small dark room or any of its contents, but since he was comfortably settled on a plush bed under heavy warm blankets, he could at least surmise he was no longer the captive of a slave owner.

"...where am I?"

His voice was just as rough and ragged as he felt, but the woman's smile only broadened in response.

"You don't recognize my humble little place? Well, I suppose that's to be expected. It has been...quite a few years since the last time you were here." She paused, a fond memory briefly shimmering in her eyes. "A lot has changed since then."

Taking in everything he could about her appearance, Horatio strained his recovering mind. The woman's long silver hair braided behind her, her tender hazel eyes, her gentle demeanor... He had only been treated so kindly recently by Paneau staff who were extending to him the respect they had for his son Wil. Aside from the Natiyrs and Rys'tihns, the only other Paneau he'd had contact with in years past had either been killed or were based on Paneau, except for...a Coruscanti covert agent who had once harbored Deilia Rys'tihn as she suffered the effects of a deadly disease...

"Ceyelle..."

She again smiled warmly. "Glad to have you back." She reached for a glass of a milky liquid from the bedside table, holding it in her hands as she continued. "I was able to get you into a bacta tank for a few hours, but I'm afraid your arm will need to do a bit more mending on its own. Your orbital fracture seems to have reduced quite well, though." She leaned over him and looked closely at his left eye. "I don't see much swelling left at all."

Only just realizing that he was again able to see with both eyes, Horatio tested them, looking all about and surprised to find it caused him no pain. His chest, however, was another story.

"My throat," he responded gruffly. "Every breath burns..."

Ceyelle nodded, her expression becoming more solemn as she answered him slowly. "Horatio...you drowned. The water in that lake they threw you into...it was full of toxic chemicals. The bacta took care of the burns on your skin, but this," she held up the glass towards him, "this should help the tissue in your lungs heal. You may need more than a few rounds of it."

With the gentlest of support, she tucked her hand behind his head and lifted it to meet the glass of bactade, helping him gulp it down. The cooling, soothing sensation as it coated his irritated throat was such a welcome feeling, immediately putting the rest of his tension at ease. Ceyelle arched an eyebrow, impressed at how quickly he drank it all, and she carefully returned him to his pillow behind him as she set the empty glass back on the table. His thoughts were finally becoming clearer without the ever-present haze of pain, allowing him to pose another question to her as he continued to piece things together.

"How did you find me?"

Pulling her hand from her pocket, Ceyelle dangled from her fingers a familiar pendant that had previously been in his own pocket. "You had this on you. When you hit the water from that height, it sent out a sort of...distress signal to any nearby agent. I happened to be the closest one, so I came as quickly as I could. But Horatio...I'm not the one who pulled you out of the water..." She paused, watching his reaction closely. "...your son did. He restarted your heart, got you breathing again... You wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him."

Stunned, Horatio stared breathlessly. His son, his boy he'd only known for a week and had desperately tried to keep grounded on Paneau, had not just saved his life once, but twice. He'd gotten so frustrated with Wil over the past few days, meeting his match in a stubborn, determined copy of himself, but how could he have so easily dismissed his mother's deeply passionate kindness? She, too, had saved his life on two separate occasions, and he hadn't felt worthy of her efforts all those years ago. After how terribly he'd treated Wil, how could he possibly be worthy of his son now?

Swallowing hard, he returned to Ceyelle, his voice coarse once more. "Is he okay? Is he here?"

Waving off his concern, she nodded with another kind smile. "Yes, he's fine. He's been treated, as well. And," she added with emphasis, "he's resting, as you should also be." She carefully stood from his side, taking up the empty glass again. "Your friends will see you soon. Wyliaa is so very eager to talk to you, and your other friends... Well," she paused, seeing his confused expression, "I'll let them in after a bit. But you must rest, please. Everyone will be well taken care of here, I promise you."

She softly stepped toward the door, turning back to him just before she left.

"And don't worry... Rakos' crew will never bother you, or anyone else, ever again."