Everything was blurry-fuzzy-unfocussed. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Tyrael was aware that this was not how things should be. That thought went quick as it came.

The world muddled on around him. It was wet-cold, but Tyrael felt strangely hot. Things kept flashing around him, lighting up magnificently and winking out again. He thought there might've been someone shouting. Someone red, he could tell that much.

He hoped whatever they were shouting about wasn't too serious.

Tyrael hadn't realized he'd passed out until he woke up again. Even then, he wasn't entirely sure what was happening.

It was much colder now, windier too, and he shuddered before trying to curl in on himself. Someone spoke lowly [at him], and he had to assume it was that same someone who held him tighter with one arm. Thankfully so, for the world kept heaving in a way that was distinctly unpleasant.

"Sleep again, I will make sure you wake." The someone murmured (at least, he thought that was what they said.)

He was aware enough of himself to know that the unconsciousness descending upon him was of external make. There was nothing he could do about it though.

The next time he awoke, Tyrael was much more himself. Barely had his eyes opened before he threw himself up with a yell, and El'Druin was in his hand - and promptly dropped to the floor. Someone made a noise in alarm, and reached to restrain them.

The former-angel was already settling though. He stared, dumb-founded, and the bandaged on his arm. An arm that refused to move. Actually, a whole shoulder. Actually-

"By the light Tyrael, I bid you lay down."

Tyrael did not lay down. Tyrael very nearly jumped out of his skin, and turned to face the speaker as she floated closer.

In response, Auriel silently wrapped her cord about his shoulders.

"You-" a mighty cough escaped him. "You are- here?" The words were rough and confused, even as he finally began to relax back down onto the cot he was laid out upon.

"You can thank your deathly companion for that." Gentle yet firm, the Archangel of Hope began checking his - many many - bandages. Including one wrapped about his head.

"...Where is here?" Tyrael belatedly realized he did not recognize the building. They were not in the commune, as he had originally thought. Certainly not back on the island.

"Your companion thought you would ask that." Auriel nodded calmly. "He said to tell you this place is owned, isolated, and safe. I believe he did not want my presence to be...noticed, by the masses."

Of course. Angels upon Sanctuary once more would cause nothing less than a confused panic. Rathma would know this, if he had indeed been the one to contact Auriel. Exactly how he'd managed to contact her...Tyrael had no idea. Never mind where his nephew even was.

"Do not strain yourself, my friend." Finishing her work, Auriel floated up and away from him. Her radiance filled the cozy room they were in, and Tyrael desperately took it in.

"Where is-" Another bout of coughing wracked his frame, cutting him off.

"I imagine he will return soon." Auriel's voice was deliberately soothing. "Where he was going, he did not say in absolutes. He did take Imperius along with him, and I might hazard that they are taking care of whatever caused this." She gestured at him, and Tyrael felt very small for a moment.

"Wait." Then what she'd said caught up to him. "Imperius? On Sanctuary?"

"Your companion seemed quite certain he needed the assistance, and instructed that I tell you such." Auriel's wings flicked contentedly.

"...Oh stars." Tyrael groaned, and laid back down.

"Yes, I advise rest as well." Auriel agreed.