The excavation team moved methodically to ensure further damage to Orion was minimal...until he passed out. Then, everything sped up with extra care for the limp form trapped under the debris in an effort to get that primary beam lifted and disposed of.

Yassen remained still, keeping pressure on the head wound as Alex's blood seeped through his fingers, and ordered several events at once. One, Alex was hooked up to triage and assessed more thoroughly as two, the beam Alex was under would be a priority to remove.

No longer would be concerned on other factors, Alex's survival was imperative even at the cost to Sagitta.

Alex would not be happy with the decision but as right now Alex wasn't conscious to voice his contrary opinion; his preferences were negligible ones.

The beams were lifted and he assisted the medics with pulled Alex out from underneath.

An dead unidentifiable Sagitta agent was laying between Alex and the beam, having been punctured by multiple protrusions of the fallen debris.

Alex thankfully looked to be in one piece, sustaining a crushed arm and chest, and a splintered portion jutting through his calf.

Splintered portion and all, Alex was transferred to a stretcher and carried away from the worst of the collapse.

Swarmed by the medics, a tourniquet tied off the circulation to his leg and hands assessed further damage.

Cleared for transport, Yassen called in the medEvac and stepped in to immobilize Alex on the stretcher himself. There would be no mistakes with Alex's care.

With key members of Danube monitoring Alex's condition closely, Yassen left the rest of excavation to Scorpius, Alex's secondary security. They would be working long hours to clean up, but such is the consequence for inadequacy.

Yassen stepped into the cockpit, ran through pre-flight protocol, and departed for the hospital.

His team was competent to ensure doctors were on the roof ready to accept their new patient and further, that their cover was in place. Soon, Alex became Aaron Brighton, an orphan of a investment banker who was left in the care of his uncle, Daniel Brighton, and they were allotted a private wing of the hospital with all appropriate security measures in place.

Though first—and most daunting part—was the first few hours. Yassen could do nothing but sit to the side as surgeons addressed the intracranial pressure, the setting of damaged ribs, and the protrusion in Alex's leg. He busied himself with reviewing security and transport plans and accepted the proffered cup of coffee from Hill as they waited.

Hill later confirmed to completion of the clean up of his own mission and updated him on the status of the excavation.

For Alex's security purposes, Sagitta had grown to accommodate eight individuals. Now, one had still yet to be found under the debris, one were killed, four were in critical care, one had a concussion and superficial injuries, and one had a gunshot wound.

A veritable mess. Still, his thoughts went to the 17-year old in the OR.

Scorpia's attendance at the event was confirmed only last minute. Few knew about the conference and even less knew Alex would be there in particular.

Yassen made several calls, including one to Jack Starbright.

She was noticeably distraught but kept her manner prompt and formal as he explained her temporary relocation.

Another went to Krueger, leader of Cepheus. No further insight was to be had on the break in and Tom Harris was unharmed and taking his required classes.

Finally, he called Dr. Three.

The man picked up after the first ring. "I've heard. How is he?"

"In surgery."

"Do keep me posted when he comes out."

Yassen offered only a soft sound in affirmation before the call had ended. Noting the usually short, brusque conversation from the rather talkative man, Yassen filed the information away for later as a woman wearing scrubs came out, recognized him and was walking over.

"He is in rough shape from all of this but he will recover. We've sedated him but we'll be bringing him up to his suite shortly. Right now, he's in the ICU while his room is prepared. You see him if you want."

Yassen nodded and stood to follow, carrying his laptop and phone with him.

She was unnerved a bit by his relative silence and offering him a look in sympathy, she lead him away from the waiting room.

The nurse lead him to the door before continuing to check on some other patients.

A few beds down, a teenage girl was surrounded by her doting family. A truly obnoxious display of concern and affection.

And in that moment, he thought of Helen Beckett. Her becoming Helen Rider for such a short time and only have it be the death of her. Her traveling to France for sharing a few scarce moments with John.

Hunter had been an excellent mentor and would've been an excellent father. Helen's kind, caring nature offset his blunt behavior well.

He couldn't deny Alex's likeness to his father and he certainly picked up more of his mother's morals and kindness and for that, he disliked having to put the boy through this.

He deserved a normal childhood with affectionate parents and a normal education. Instead...? The world had not been kind to him.

Yassen ignored the whirring machines and touched Alex's hand. Less so for the affection in the action and more to feel Alex's pulse himself. He was alive.

A building had been dropped on him and he'd need only 3-4 months to recover. If he had any doubts before, he did not now. He certainly inherited his father's luck.

Yassen quirked a lip in a wry smile and brushed a hand through Alex's hair. It had gotten long again and needed to be cut. Stepping away, he pulled up a chair to his bedside and settled in with his laptop.

Alex woke to a feeling of weightlessness and, if it wasn't for the incessant beeping sound blaring in his ears, he would've thought he had died.

Sound! Alex realized with some cheer.

Keeping his eyes open and focused was proving to be a difficult task. He did register some movement in his periphery in the form of a nurse who, at noticing his awareness, hit the call button and began entering buttons the machinery.

It was only when she left did she notice another figure occupying a chair at the foot of his bed with a laptop propped on his side table: Yassen.

Alex tried to speak but it came out as garble from behind the oxygen mask. Taking a full breathe of air wasn't easy either. Yassen seemed unusually stiff and uncomfortable, not look up immediately, and intently focused on finishing his typing.

Alex tried moving but his extremities felt numb and unresponsive. Immediately his mind went frantic thinking what might happen if he had truly lost the use of his limbs and began to struggle, moving what little he could and whimpering at the thought of the loss.

Yassen's eyes locked onto him and he was up and at Alex's side with an enviable amount of grace.

"Relax. You were given nerve blockers and other medicine post-op to aid recovery. You will recover." With a steady reassuring look, he added, "Slowly, but you will recover."

With the familiar hand lightly touching his shoulder, Alex quieted down; Yassen rarely repeats himself but despite little change to his outer appearance, he couldn't help but think Yassen was assuring himself more than Alex of Alex's recovery.

In a rare show of affection, Yassen moved the hand from Alex's shoulder to adjust his oxygen mask before meticulously checking each splint and bandage before returning to his head. Yassen brushed a hand by his cheek and stroked Alex's hair not covered by bandages lightly—a comfort Alex's brain only blearily began to process as the nurse returned, trailed by a doctor.

Yassen stepped out of Alex's view but the light pressure of fingertips resting near his forehead was reassuring enough that he remained close by.

"Aaron," the doctor said with a kind smile, "it's nice seeing you awake. I know your uncle is eager to get you back to the estate for the rest of your care."

Alex went along with it and lightly nodded. There were no hair dye or contacts so he supposed 'uncle' made the most sense.

"You were in quite the accident. That earthquake caused cars some trouble and you a nasty car accident. You are so lucky you're uncle found you so fast. Pinned by your car and the incoming floods! Truly, blessed. You could've been much worse off—"

"What is his prognosis doctor?" Yassen asked with a polite voice though Alex suspected some sharpness in the tone; ever the pragmatic one.

The nervous doctor babbled, "The head injury has improved significantly and his back and neck will be sore. The cracked ribs will simply take time but his leg fracture will require the most time and attention to heal. I believe you mentioned having employed a medical staff yourself?"

"Yes, he will be well-cared for at the estate. Is he fit for travel?"

"Commercial? Not for some time. But private and on a stretcher? He'll need to be secured properly and monitored closely but yes."

"Money is no object here." With Yassen out of his view, he could only construe from the mild threat in his tone how important it was getting Alex moved from the area.

"Excellent," the doctor said with forced smile. "It will be done."

Alex couldn't see Yassen through the exchange and could only blink albeit blearily at the doctor but contented at feeling Yassen's hand brush through his hair repeatedly, acting every part of the doting uncle.

Was it cover or did he care? Alex, figured it was a bit of both. Their relationship was rather odd. If then man had a soft spot for anything, he could say with some degree with certainty that it'd be him. Yassen tended to indulge his whims more than anyone else's.

Alex closed his eyes, relishing the touch and let his breathing calm.

As the doctor finished reviewing his charts and left. Yassen, pulling a chair from behind the head of Alex's bed, sat down directly beside Alex as Alex struggled to stay awake. Alex faintly heard Yassen say, "Rest. You did well," and he obliged without a second thought. He knew he was drugged heavily when he imagined a soft, warm touch of lips pressed to his head by his hairline, but he was off in dreamworld long before his mind could discern the event.

Details of his transfer were settled later that day and by that time, Alex had gained back some movement in his fingertips though the effort ached them. Talk of how lucky Alex had been in his 'car accident' had spread throughout the hospital and a few extra nurses lingered by the door peeking in, clearly curious over who the special patient had been.

Though, when Yassen stepped out to make a phone call, Alex looked on in amusement at a younger nurse's lingering glance at his 'uncle' and Yassen complete disregard of her presence.

An hour later, Alex realized he hadn't seen the man since.

Shortly before departure, Alex was left with members of Danube acting as his 'medical' team to secure his stretcher and check vitals.

As Yassen had been such a constant support to him—likely because Jack wasn't available—he almost missed his presence. Still, Alex recognized the logic in them not traveling together for security purposes. He'd have to ask Yassen about the state of his own security team in the attack.

Rather, it was Commander Hill leading the transfer. He himself saw to checking Alex's bindings along the stretcher and was meticulously thorough about it.

Upon meeting his gaze, the commander gave him a pointed look and commented, "I am to remind you to listen to the doctor's orders."

Now that spurred Alex's memory on an exchange they had in Abu Dhabi after the Kurst incidence. With a smirk, Alex in a bit of a strained voice under the oxygen mask smugly said, "wasn't shot this time," therein bringing the light the technicality that he did hold up his end of their promise.

Though the message sounded garbled under the oxygen mask, Hill recognized the point he made and shook his head with a bit of mock disapproval. "Luck of the devil," he muttered.

Loaded in the helicopter and strapped down, the signal was given to leave and the pilot, with a quick glance at Alex, started their trip. Alex recognized that black hat, the figure, the blue eyes. Of course, Alex thought. As if Yassen would trust anyone but himself for the trip.

He chuckled, then coughed, then groaned. He was warned his lungs would take time to heal.

Of course, one cough lead to more and he began wheezing, earning him a sedative injected into his portable IV and a dreamless sleep.