Wyatt's head felt like it was filled with both cement and feathers. It was too heavy to move but his thoughts were wrapped in something fuzzy. He heard the hum of the machines he assumed he was hooked up to and after cracking one eye open, he was able to confirm where he was. He just couldn't remember how he'd gotten there. The last thing he remembered was hearing Rhonan screaming at him. A warning that hovered just outside of Wyatt's memory. Then he remembered falling. He'd flailed for what felt like forever even though it was only around ten feet or so from the landing to the hard floor below. Rhonan was holding a gun. Wyatt remembered that. It looked so out of place in his hands. Rhonan was all peaceful and tender, sweet even. Did Rhonan fire the gun? Or was that someone else? Wyatt's forehead wrinkled and then he heard the muffled voices as the door creaked open.

He feigned sleep long enough to hear the soft voice, "I told you, Mr. Blackwell, when Mr. Palmer wakes up we will see if he is up for visitors. As you are not family, you cannot be in his room without his consent."

Wyatt opened his eyes and let out what turned out to be more noise than actual words. He coughed and tried again, croaking out, "Please..."

The doctor lifted her head and then held up a hand to the person they were talk to, "Give me one moment with my patient, if he wishes to see you, I will come get you." Whoever it was must have agreed because she turned into Wyatt's room with a smile on her face. "Good evening, Mr. Palmer. I'm Doctor Abbot, how are you feeling?"

Her pale blonde hair fringed her face, giving her an almost pixieish quality. She was barely five feet tall, but her presence was much larger and Wyatt was almost certain one stern look would send people cowering. He motioned to his throat with the hand not covered in tape and tubes, "Hurts."

"Here, take small sips and I will explain your injuries to you."

She handed over a small plastic cup half filled with water and Wyatt took it gratefully with a hoarse thank you. He choked on the first sip, but managed to take another, then another, slowly wetting his throat.

"When you fell, it seems you managed to tuck yourself before you hit the ground, which prevented a lot of injuries and minimized the ones you could have had. However, you are not in the clear. You did hit your head on the ground fairly hard so we are treating you for a concussion at this stage. We did run scans and there was no swelling or bleeding, so that is encouraging. You have a hairline fracture in your left hip from the impact of the initial fall. Again, it could have been much worse than it is. For now, you will need to be on crutches for a few weeks and we will be monitoring it as it heals. You also tore a tendon in your bicep which will require surgery, that is actually scheduled to take place in a few hours. Despite all of that, after hearing what happened, I would say you were extremely lucky." As she spoke, she went through his chart and then double checked his medications, "There are a few people waiting to see you. A police officer and a Mr. Blackwell. I can ask the officer to wait if you are not up for giving your statement just yet. Your friend, Mr. Blackwell is rather worried, but I can tell him to wait as well, it's your decision."

Wyatt frowned as he listened to each injury, he supposed he really was lucky that he wasn't in worse condition. He finished off the water and took his time processing everything she had said. He wasn't looking forward to the surgery or the prospect of being on crutches, but he was alive and Rhonan was here. Rhonan was waiting for him. And he was up and about, which meant he hadn't gotten injured, or at least that was what Wyatt hoped. He flashed a small smile at the doctor and gave a slight nod as he tested his voice. Once he could form the words, he asked her to send Rhonan in, he would deal with the police later.

Doctor Abbot gave a curt nod and took Wyatt's cup from him. "I will send him in, remember though, he can only stay for a short while as they will be down to start preparing you for surgery soon."

After she walked out, Wyatt settled back into the pillows, his eyes pinned to the door as he waited for Rhonan. His brain kept replaying what he could remember since they left the hotel. And while there were a lot of fuzzy edges, he remembered the tightening in his chest when Rhonan was driven away from the warehouse, leaving him alone and vulnerable. He remembered the goon getting shot and bleeding out in front of him. Then he remembered his handler Geoff dragging him off. He had never seen the man before, but the moment Wyatt heard Geoff's voice, he knew he was safe. Or so he thought. What was it Rhonan had said? He wasn't Geoff...something like that. Who else would it have been? Wyatt had spoken to the man on a regular basis for years, he knew the voice well. Rhonan had to have said something else and Wyatt misheard. There was a good explanation. He would have to ask.

Wyatt's brows furrowed deeply and for a moment he wondered how long it would take for them to freeze like that considering felt like he'd been doing that a lot lately. He fidgeted on the bed and messed with the covers to give himself something to do that would hopefully take his mind off..."Rhonan! I'm so glad you're okay. What happened?" Wyatt ran his eyes over the other man, taking in the fresh bandages and bruises that marred Rhonan's face, as well as the deep frown he was wearing and the near black bags under his eyes. That wasn't a good sign. "Sit, you look like you're about ready to fall over."

Rhonan flashed a tired smile as he walked over to the armchair and took a seat. His face twisted in a grimace and he let out a slow breath as he situated himself on the chair until he seemed comfortable. Then his full focus turned to Wyatt. "I'm sorry we didn't get there sooner. What did the doctors say? I tried to ask but you know that whole family only and all that."

Wyatt wished he could reach out to take Rhonan's hand, he wanted to offer something more than words, but right now that was all he had. His voice was soft and scratchy, but he hoped it would carry over. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Rhonan. I'm the one that dragged you into this. After they took you away..." Wyatt shook his head and sighed, "I didn't think I'd ever see you again. I'm so sorry you got caught up in this." Wyatt shook his head slowly again, then he explained what the doctor had told him regarding his injuries. He hated the pity he saw on Rhonan's face, pity that seemed to grow with each word Wyatt spoke. It made him feel even smaller than he already did at this point. When he had finished listing the information, he took another slow breath and tried to fight back the cough in his throat. He wished he could have more water, but remembered the doctor's orders. Nothing further until after his surgery. Rhonan stayed solemn and silent as Wyatt continued on, "Can you tell me what happened? I know the cops want to talk to me, but I wanted to see you first."

Rhonan combed his fingers through his hair, "Sounds like you got quite a bit going on. As for what happened..." He shook his head and chewed the corner of his bottom lip for a moment, "It was, as Pops would say, a shit show of epic proportions." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together. He started with what happened after he was driven away and how they left him, unharmed for the most part other than additional bruising and two cracked ribs. Really, he had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time in their eyes. "After Pops found me, I told him what happened and he called it into the police. We used the tracking system on my phone to see where I had been and gave that information to the cops. Something told me you weren't there anymore though. I made Pops go a different way. That's when he started telling me the information he had found. You're probably not going to like what's coming next, Wy."

Wyatt's stomach twisted in unpleasant knots as he listened to Rhonan. Relief washed over him when he realized they hadn't meant to harm Rhonan, but that glimpse of happiness he had felt at that and the fact Rhonan followed his gut to find him dropped out quickly at Rhonan's final statement. Rhonan's face turned so serious that it was almost frightening. Wyatt fisted his fingers into the blanket to give himself something to hold onto and then gave a slight nod, "Just tell me, Rho. Please. I need to know."

It took a few false starts before Rhonan could finally make the words fall from his mouth. He averted his eyes and stared at his joined hands, "That guy that was leading you to the airport..."

"Geoff, he's my..."

Rhonan shook his head, "No, he's not. I mean, when you were first put into protection, you had a handler named Geoff Summerfield. However, when the case fell apart after the second year of investigation, he was supposed to be reassigned and you were to be cut loose. Instead, he vanished. The case fell apart and you were lost in the shuffle. His body was found about six months later. That's about the time they figure Gershovich got a trace on you. Maxwell Luden, or Geoff as you came to know him, is Ricky's right hand man. Hitman, bodyguard, and all around dirty guy. His husband, Mitch, isn't your typical rent boy either. He's been used on a number of jobs, though this was the first time they had brought Sarah in for a job it seems. She's actually a few rooms down, handcuffed and all while they wait for her to come around. I know she was your friend..." Rhonan lifted his eyes and a flash of concern washed over his features, "Are you okay? Should I call the doctor in?"

Wyatt felt like time had stopped with each word that fell from Rhonan's lips. All those years he had spent in hiding when he didn't have to, pushing people away, running. All that time he could have had a life and instead it was one more thing Ricky had taken from him. Wyatt couldn't bring himself to even ask what condition Sarah was in, it hurt him to the core that he'd fallen for her lies and he didn't want to think about her at all right now. Wyatt wasn't sure what he was supposed to be feeling with each little nugget Rhonan dropped on him. Wyatt shook his head at Rhonan's question. "Just a little bit of shock is all. So what happened at the hanger? I remember hearing you scream before I fell, but after that, it's all a blur."

Rhonan worried his lip again and let out a low sigh. "You didn't exactly fall. Luden shoved Mitch through the door, then spun and shoved Sarah into you as he drew his gun on me. Pretty sure you weren't supposed to go over, Sarah stumbled but then she went over too. Luden panicked. He leveled his gun in my direction and fired. It took four officers to drag Mitch from the plane's lavatory." Rhonan flashed a small smile at that. "Pops managed to give dispatch the location before he passed out from his own gunshot wound and since it wasn't too far from the other location, they managed to get there fairly quickly. Since you were down on the floor, you weren't in much danger for the moment. Luden tried to get away, but was pinned down, he eventually committed suicide by cop rather than face punishment. Gershovich is in custody. When Luden shot him to 'save' you, he missed all the vital organs. They are trying to get him to talk as well as Mitch."

Wyatt was nodding along and then as the words registered, his head snapped up, "Josiah was shot? How is he? Fuck. How did this get screwed up so badly? I'm so sorry, Rhonan. When I get out of here, I will make it up..."

"No." Rhonan was shaking his head as he slowly pushed to his feet. He walked over to the bed and ran his fingers through Wyatt's hair before dropping a kiss on his forehead. "After Pops gets the all clear, I'm going back to Illinois for a bit. I need to process things. This was all too much, too fast. You focus on getting better and living your life, Wyatt. You deserve that."

Wyatt sat speechless as he watched Rhonan walk out of the room without even a backwards glance. When the doctors came back in later to prepare him for surgery, he was never more grateful to be counting backwards into that quiet numbness.