Chapter Twelve

Awake At Last

The next time Jason awoke he was completely incoherent, and Turlough wondered if the brief period of lucidity had been a fluke. As the drugs continued to wear off, however, the periods of semi-clarity became more and more frequent. Eventually Jason's violent, nightmarish episodes ceased and Turlough asked, (for what seemed the hundredth time) if he might be released from his restraints, if for no other reason then to allow his injuries to heal more fully.

Dr. Spencer consulted with the medical staff who had been assisting in treating the prince before agreeing—if only partially. When Turlough was alone in the room, the unstable Alterran's wrists and ankles would be loosely secured, allowing him to move slightly but not rise from the bed. In-between times, the staff would work on getting him back on his feet.

Despite this apparent progress, Jason still had the probes to contend with, and unlike the drugs, they did not diminish or fade away. Their ongoing activity interrupted his sleep, blurred his vision, and made him so hypersensitive that staff members were forced to wear gloves when working with him, Turlough and Fane being the only ones able to touch him without causing him excruciating pain.

One night a memory came in the form of a nightmare and Jason awoke in a panic. Somehow he managed to pull one of his hands free, going on to free himself from the other bindings. He went over the side of his bed as Turlough appeared just in time to catch him as he fell to the floor.

"You've only just managed to stand up and take a few steps," Turlough admonished mildly. "You'll have to wait a bit before you start skydiving."

Badly shaken, Jason sat clinging to his friend a moment before allowing himself to be returned to the safety of his bed. "I must be crazy," he said at last. "I don't even know what I'm running from."

"Don't be so melodramatic. You just had a bad dream," his friend scolded gently. "Here, let me get you some water. It'll make you feel better." Disengaging himself from the trembling prince, he went to get a glass of water.

Jason had his doubts about this and sighed heavily, leaning back against the upraised head of his bed. Now there's wishful thinking, he thought darkly. I can't see straight. I can't think straight. I can't even follow what's going on half the time. How's a drink of water going to help? Will it stop this incessant buzzing in my head? Will it stop—? He sighed again, feeling completely overwhelmed and uncertain of everything. Well, perhaps not everything. He was absolutely certain about Turlough, whose ever-present aura verified his existence in the realm of reality.

An orderly and two security guards came bursting into the room at that moment, the prince's tumble having disconnected him from the monitors and causing panic in the Medial Wing. Seeing the Alterran free of his restraints, the appalled orderly gasped, "Turlough, what do you think you're doing?"

"Isn't it obvious, Wells?" came the caustic reply. "I'm getting Jason a drink."

"Are you nuts! If he reverts, he could kill you."

"How? By drowning me?"

Were his head clearer, Jason would have found this exchange amusing. Instead he found the unfamiliar voice terrifying and his grip on his friend tightened as he tried to maintain his questionable grip on reality. "Turlough, who is that?" he asked shakily. "What's happening?"

"It's alright. It's just someone who's just as afraid of you as you are of them."

"I doubt that. I can't even…sit up without help."

"He's rational!" Wells gasped. "When did that happen?"

Turlough chose not to respond directly, giving the orderly a baleful look. "You've a reason for being here, I trust?" he said caustically. The words were barely out of his mouth when he felt Jason sag beside him. Had he deduced the men were there to return him to his restraints? If so, it meant his friend was thinking more clearly than even he himself had given him credit.

When Wells did not respond, the young man glared at him. "Are you here to check the monitors?" He gave Jason another sip of water, throwing a warning glance in the direction of the two guards. He had only just managed to calm his friend down. The last thing he needed was for these three to panic him again.

"What? Oh, yeah, the monitors," Wells said, understanding at last. "The alarms went off and we thought—" A withering look from Turlough stopped him cold. "One of the wires must've come loose," he concluded meekly.

"I fell," the embarrassed Jason said in a small voice. "I must've…pulled everything out."

"Don't worry," Turlough soothed gently. "Wells will have you fixed up in no time."

Still clinging to his friend's hand, the prince leaned back, forcing himself to relax as his monitors were reconnected. It was not until that moment that he realized he was completely exhausted, not having the strength to resist even if he chose to. Closing his eyes, he resigned himself to the inevitable fact that he was about to be tied down again, and was sound asleep before Wells even finished.

Turlough pulled himself free of the sleeping Alterran, glancing over at the guards at the door. Now was the time to ask—No, demand!—that Jason be freed of his restraints and moved to a normal room. A place where he could see outside. Leaving the orderly and guards to look after Jason, Turlough went to Amanda, who was flatly against the idea. She feared it would be unsafe for the prince to be exposed to the turmoil of the outside world. Dr. Thorson, Head of the Foundation's Medical Center, disagreed and promptly overruled her. When she tried to protest, he responded by pulling rank. She may have been the Argonauts' Chief Medical Officer, but they were now in his facility. The decision was no longer hers.

"He's my patient!" Amanda protested.

"Not anymore," Thorson countered. "I'll be taking over the case."

Dr. Spencer was incredulous. "You can't do that!"

"I most certainly—"

"You don't know the first thing about the case. You've been gone for nearly a month. You can't just waltz in here and expect me to meekly hand over the Crown Prince of Tel-Shye! No way. The only reason you want this is to score points with the review board he happens to chair."

As the altercation progressed, Turlough felt a little guilty for having triggered the obvious power struggle. He may have gotten his wish, but it seemed to have come at Amanda's expense. "I'm supposed to contact the Doctor today," he injected innocently, "and let him know how things are going. Perhaps I should ask Constance if—"

Dr. Thorson's reaction brought a smile to Amanda's face. "There's no need to bother Miss Sorenson," he blustered. "I'm sure we can work this out amicably." As much as he wanted to score points with Prince Jason, he wanted to score points with Constance twice as bad. As head of the Foundation, she literally held his career in her hands, and the fact that Turlough called her by name, something she allowed few to do, was significant to the social climbing Thorson.

Dr. Spencer knew this as well and threw an appreciative look in Turlough's direction before saying, "Give my regards to Constance when you talk to her." Turning pointedly to Thorson, she said, "I'll be looking in on my patient as soon as he's settled in."

Prince Jason was relocated, monitors and all, to the Royal Suite of the Sorenson Mansion. He was only vaguely aware of the journey, the jostling bringing him close to the surface of consciousness where a soothing voice would assure him all was well and he would submerge. His mind wrote off the experience as yet another hallucination, one of the few pleasant ones. When he finally broke the surface of consciousness, he was surprised and delighted to find himself out of isolation and no longer tied down.

Despite the fact that the suite contained two bedrooms, the prince's hospital bed had been placed in the main room facing a large sliding glass door leading to a balcony. It was there, for the first time in months, that Jason saw the outside world, albeit rather fuzzily.

"I wish it were a nicer day for you," Turlough said mildly as they watched the torrential downpour going on outside.

"Oh, Turlough, please, don't apologize," Jason replied softly. "It's daylight. It's…wonderful." Glancing around, he observed, "And it's not a hospital room."

"No," his friend grinned. "They were hoping this would be quieter."

Outside, lightning suddenly flashed, causing Jason to wince, the bright light hurting his sensitive eyes. His hands went to his ears in anticipation of the thunderclap that followed. "So much for quiet," he muttered softly.

Seeing his friend absently twisting his curls, Turlough informed suddenly, "They cut your hair before they brought you up. I hope you don't mind. Someone thought you wouldn't want it looking so scraggly now that you're out of isolation."

Thinking this meant the probes would be visible Jason was appalled. He ran a hand through his hair and was relieved to find it was still long enough to cover the implant caps. He did not know as yet that his normally black hair had been transformed into the snow-white tangle he had borne since rescue. He did, however, wonder how anyone would think something as trivial as the length of his hair would concern him. It was so…

Struck by the insanely incongruous action, Jason burst forth in the first fit of genuine laughter since his kidnapping.

"What's so funny?" the puzzled Turlough asked.

It took several minutes before the Alterran was able to explain, after which his friend also succumbed to laughter.

When Amanda came to check on her patient she found him sleeping peacefully, which totally amazed her. She had expected to find him confused and frightened, not nearly this sedate. She immediately apologized to Turlough, who had obviously been correct in his diagnosis of what his friend needed.

As time passed, Jason's emotional peaks and valleys continued to level off, but the probes continued to affect his vision and made concentrating difficult. They also had an adverse affect on his normally reliable, ofttimes phenomenal memory. Through it all, however, Turlough remained steadfastly at his side, calming and reassuring him whenever lucidity seemed to be slipping away.

During the periods when Jason did manage to doze off, Turlough continued with his drawing, his idle sketching eventually producing a very impressive portfolio.