Waking up was like pulling himself out of quicksand, but Caim was suddenly far too cold for sleep and the white beyond his eyelids was getting to be too much. Opening his eyes was like prying a piece of metal in half, but the minute they opened and light blasted into them he shut them again, wincing at the brightness. He went to raise a hand to rub his eyes and the first thing he felt was something shifting on his skin, the second thing was the resistance. His eyes flew open and they searched through the coloured spots for his left wrist, which he found bare and strapped to an armrest of some sort with a needle and tube stuck in it. Did the fight not happen? Did I actually- Then he saw the scorpion tattoo that was curled around his wrist, and the torch that sat on his forearm. His eyes widened as he took in the fact that not only were his tattoos still there, but that he was shirtless.

A beeping that he hadn't noticed before suddenly picked up its tempo as he tried to sit up, but he only succeeded in causing the strap that was over his chest to press against his injured ribs. He let a hiss out from between his teeth as he lay back and tried pulling at his wrists and his legs, only to find that they were all strapped down and that there was another needle in his other arm. The beeping was getting faster and faster as his breathing came as fast as his ribs would allow. Wherever he was, he needed to get out, and soon. If they found out what he was- Or maybe they already have.

"Well if they already have…" he muttered.

The strap on his right hand caught on fire, though the flames didn't touch his hand, and now the wailing of a fire alarm was added to the already beeping machine beside him. As the flames diminished, Caim heard the sound of a door being thrown open and his eyes darted between where the person would appear and his left strap, which he was now burning through.

"Hey, hey! Careful! What are you doing?"

Caim looked up into the same eyes he had awoken to before. They belonged to a woman dressed in a simple pair of jeans and a t-shirt who was coming around the corner of the curtain. Her hand seemed to be holding something out of sight and Caim instantly stopped. The fire fizzled out and the left strap broke. A moment later the fire alarm stopped blaring, and the beeping beside him was slowing down a little bit.

"There we go." She gave him a small smile, a gentle expression lighting up her features. "If you wanted them off you could have asked."

Caim could only stare, now that he had recognized her.

"You're Mr. McCoy's lady friend," he stated simply.

"Lady friend." She laughed. "Yeah, I guess I am."

She stepped over to where the beeping was coming from beside him and he watched her, his hands unclenching and clenching where he kept them on the armrests. He didn't want to make any sudden movements and have her do something to him, and he was wary about the fact that he couldn't see was she was holding in her right hand. She checked a machine that Caim realized was a heart monitor and nodded before looking at him.

"You can relax; we're not going to hurt you."

We? Her and Mr. McCoy?

"We found you unconscious and slightly half-dead at the end of our driveway."

Slightly half-dead…?

"You seemed really out of it, do you remember getting there?"

Caim merely blinked as she went to the end of his bed and picked up a clipboard. She must have noticed him watching her because she looked up at him and laughed a little.

"I'm not your doctor, don't worry," she said with a smile, gesturing to the clipboard. "I barely know what half these diagnosis means."

Caim nodded slightly and watched as she flipped through the papers. Was she really going to let him go if he asked nicely?

"Concussion, three cracked ribs and one broken, malnourished, dehydrated, frostbite…" She let out a small whistle. "Damn. I'm glad we found you." She smiled at him. "But we've got you pretty much fixed up, so you'll live." The clipboard clattered as she hung it up on the end of the bed. "So, it's Kyle, right?"

Caim didn't reply. He had looked away from her once she put the clipboard down and was staring at the binds holding down his chest and ankles. He wanted to burn through them, but knew that she would probably stop him.

"Do you want those off?" she asked.

Caim looked back up at her, but didn't say anything. They watched each other for a moment before she shrugged.

"Alright, never mind."

She turned to leave and the back of her shirt had just disappeared around the curtain when he called out.

"Wait!" His voice caught and sent him into a coughing fit, which sent spasms through his chest, though he more felt the movement than the pain. "W-wait."

She stepped back and Caim looked at her from under his eyelashes before looking away. "W-where am I?"

"So you didn't know where you were going?"

He shook his head.

She was quiet for a moment before speaking. "For now, let's just say that you're somewhere safe. There's someone better suited to explain everything to you, but you'll meet him later."

Caim nodded a little bit and glanced at the bindings again. "Can you… let me go?"

She didn't reply and he looked up to find her staring at him.

"If you don't run, then yes."

"I won't."

She laughed a little and came over to him. "You said that a little too quickly but I'll take your word for it."

She untied the binding from across his chest first and he sat up, though was careful not to move his arms too much as the tubes leading into the needles swayed. Once his feet were unbound he pulled his legs up towards him.

"Thank you," he said, though he didn't look at her.

"No problem. Like I said, you're safe here."

"Natasha?"

The lady - Natasha - looked over to beyond the curtain and Caim followed her gaze, trying to see the man that had spoken.

"Hank, he's awake. He might want a friendly face."

Mr. McCoy came around the curtain, smiling kindly, his glasses perched on his nose.

"It's nice to see you again, Kyle," he said. "Although not under such circumstances."