Jasper sees the flash before he hears the gun discharge. He turns on instinct, trying to push Robert down, but his legs won't support his weight, and Robert is backing up anyway, and then Jasper is lying alone on the dias. He hears people shouting, sirens, his pulse ringing in his ear. He hears his phone ping, but he can't tell from where. Can't reach it.

He is cold, and his chest hurts. He tries to sit up, but hands and voices are pushing him back down. They are talking to each other, calling out short, brusque instructions into handheld radios. These are cops and paramedics, not Palace people. He had assembled a team. They must have secured Robert, locked the scene down. There are protocols.

Jasper knows he's bleeding, but time isn't passing properly. It's slowed to a crawl while he feels someone tape a plastic seal onto his torso. It hurts to breathe, like his lungs won't expand. There is a cop in his face now, talking to him. It's the same tone that James Hill uses when he's telling him off, but he's trying to not be a dick about it. "Stay awake! Keep your eyes on me! Please DON'T feed her fistfuls of Maltesers right before bed!" Jasper wants to explain that Sarah Alice's fists aren't that big, but he loses the train of thought.

He feels like he's been lying there a very long time, and then suddenly, someone lifts him, and he's rolling away, looking at sky and then white metal, and then ceiling tiles. Everything is happening too quickly, like the clock is hoping to make up for it's earlier mistake before anyone else notices. That won't work, Jasper knows. Someone is always watching, they always notice. He tries to laugh, but there is blood in his mouth.

He wakes up in a dark, quiet room. His body feels heavy, and his limbs aren't following instructions. Jasper can see Brandon Boone sitting in a chair near a door, frowning. Jasper wonders if he's died and Boone is some sort of demon that will haunt his afterlife. Better Boone than Robert, he thinks, before the room fades away.

The next time he wakes up, he feels lost. Something, no… someone, is missing. The air smells artificial, institutional, which is wrong, because just before he'd opened his eyes, he was sure he'd smelled cucumber and mint. It's the shampoo Eleanor uses in her hair, but it couldn't be here. The room is brighter than it was before. He hears footsteps, steady and precise. He knows the sound, and he's relieved. James Hill is pacing at the foot of the bed, and if he's here, then Jasper figures he can't be dead. He isn't especially spiritual, he'd seen too much corruption masquerading as organized religion as a kid. But he does remember enough from church basement Vacation Bible School to be sure that when the end ultimately comes, he and James Hill are unlikely to end up in the same place.

James pauses in his route around the bed and sees Jasper's eyes open. He smiles and puts one hand on Jasper's forehead. It's a paternal gesture, and Jasper wonders if he should shrink from it, but he can't move fast enough. "You're fine, "James tells him. James looks like hell, his eyes are bloodshot, and his skin is puffy, like he hasn't slept. "She's here, been here for days, I just sent her to get some air. She's home and she's here, and everything is fine." Jasper tries to answer, but his mouth still isn't working and his eyes are heavy, and he thinks if he closes them again the cucumber smell might return. "Just rest," James says. So he does.

"You're going to wake him up!" Eleanor hisses in a whisper.

"You've been crying over him for three days to wake up. Isn't that why we're here?" Brandon Boone fires back, but his voice is low, and there isn't much heat in his tone.

"Shut up!" Eleanor insists. "I don't even know why you're here!" There's no heat in her tone either, and Jasper realizes how nearby she is. He can smell her hair. He can feel her, she's right there, holding his hand. She'll talk to him if he can just make his eyes open.

"To watch over your man there, that's why I'm here. I told Hill I'd watch you both."

"I can watch over myself! And Jasper!"

Boone laughs. "You can. You have the pair of you covered, but I told Hill I'd stay. Just in case you nod off or something."

Eleanor scoffs, "I'm not tired." Jasper can picture her flipping her hair in annoyance.

"You're shattered. But it's working. Look at the monitors."

"Oh my God!" Jasper can feel her hand tighten around his. "Jasper? Can you hear me? Wake up! Please, Baby, I'm right here, please wake up!" He hears every word, but he's still so tired. It takes tremendous effort, but he squeezes her fingers.

He can feel her head hit his shoulder. Her hair is in his face, and his free hand moves to brush it off. He opens his eyes, blinks them shut, then tries again to keep them open. He's awake and she's here. She's crying, which is obviously his fault, but he can't think of what it is he's supposed to have done.

She cups his chin with one hand, turning him towards her. "Hey," she says softly, smiling broadly,

"Hey," he answers back. His voice sounds funny in his ears and his mouth is dry. Eleanor is beaming, and she's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

She's not supposed to be here. She's travelling somewhere, she was in Italy…. "What are you doing here?" He's disoriented. Where is here?

She laughs at him, still crying, and swipes at her eyes. "I wanted to see you." She laughs again, which makes him smile. They are sharing a joke, that much he knows. Memories are coming back, this is supposed to be funny, and maybe important, but he doesn't recall why. Her makeup is a mess, and her eyes are red. She leans in to kiss him and he laughs with her. She came back. And she's with him now, and it can't be because of any trick or game he's played because he hasn't spoken to her in months – he knows that much – but right now, she's here.

Jasper's senses are overloaded. The monitor, which he hadn't noticed until Boone talked about it, is blaring. The light from the windows is too bright. The bedding is scratchy and stiff. He wants to shrink away from all of it, but Eleanor is anchoring his consciousness to this time and place – and he can't be anywhere else but where she is. She's still crying, but she's laughing too. And then Boone is laughing, which, really, should be scary as shit, but somehow isn't. There are a lot of people in the too bright room now, faces he doesn't know. Someone closes the blinds, someone else shuts the lights off. The beeping behind his head stops. It's better, but Boone doesn't like it. His tone is aggressive, and his body language more so. He's moved across the room and is somehow standing between Jasper and a nurse, his body between her and the IV pole that Jasper has just become aware of. Boone barks a few questions, and he seems satisfied with whatever answer he gets, because he moves to stand close to Eleanor. Boone isn't in the way, exactly, but he's clearly there. Eleanor flips her hair again. She never lets go of Jasper's hand, but he sees, though half lidded eyes, that she puts her free hand on Boone's wrist. Just two fingers, her thumb on the other side. Jasper knows this gesture, 'Relax, Bodyguard.'

Boone is either much better, or much worse, at this role, because he's having none of it. He flicks his arm out of Eleanor's grasp. "Right," he starts…. "no new meds." He reaches around Eleanor and separates the tube which is connecting Jaspers arm to the IV bag. He makes eye contact with the doctor who has just joined the crowd of strangers around Jasper's feet. "Have at it," he invites,.

The man smirks. He's not intimidated, which Jasper thinks is maybe not too smart. "When did you finish up med school, Boone?" he asks, moving towards the head of the bed. "This is South London, not Helmand". He nods at Eleanor. Eleanor looks back towards Boone with an exaggerated eye roll, that Jasper can feel better than he can see. She beams at the doctor, an expression on her face that she's plainly copied from her mother. It's full-on Royal. She never lets go of Jasper's hand.

The doctor, he's no older, really, than his patient, stoops down to meet Jasper's eye. "I'm Dr. Walsh," he introduces himself. "I was your surgeon, and before that, I served in Afghanistan with your mate back there." He looks back at Boone.

Jasper is still dazed. "We're not really…" he starts to correct.

Walsh laughs, "You've had a rough couple of days, but you are about as well as can be expected." He walks through the examination. He shines an annoying light in Jasper's eyes and asks the nurse at this shoulder to make a note. He makes Jasper move his fingers, and wiggle his toes. Jasper's mouth still feels fuzzy, but he can answer questions, proving that he knows his name and roughly where he is. The doctor pours him a glass of water from the sink on the wall, smiles, says he's doing well, and promises to come back later. He reconnects the IV tubing. Eleanor grins again, Boone scowls. The crowd around Jasper's bed disperses as quickly as it arrived, with a few sideways glances at the former soldiers now squaring off at the side of the room

"Look," Dr. Walsh addresses Boone. "I know you're being cautious, but he needs meds, and fluids, and now that he's conscious, we're going to give him proper food. I don't want him to die in here anymore than you do, but you have to let us work."

"Someone's tried to kill him." Boone says flatly. "They're not likely to stop trying now."

"I understand that. But no one here tried to kill him. You're going to have to give a little, so that he can heal up and get out of here."

"Brandon," Eleanor cuts in knowingly, "You have to trust somebody, sometime."

"Hill is with me on this one, Dorothy." Boone retorts. Jasper is lost. James Hill and Brandon Boone don't agree on much, and Boone and Eleanor do not, last he checked, chat calmly with friendly nicknames. Also, the short list of people who might want to kill him are far away and not well financed. Probably. Maybe he isn't really awake.

"I know what you and James think." Eleanor is placating. "How soon can we take him home?" She asks Walsh. She's woven her fingers into Jasper's, and her fingers feel cool around his. Jasper is awake, but he's way out of step.

Walsh turns back to her. "Maybe tomorrow, if his vitals check out. That left lung isn't great. And he's still pretty out of it. He lost a lot of blood. Maybe the day after."

Eleanor squeezes Jasper's fingers. "Did you hear that?" She asks. "You can come home tomorrow."

"Yeah, that's not exactly what I…"

"We heard what you said." Eleanor's voice is firm. "Mr. Hill and Private Boone are concerned about Mr. Frost's safety whilst he's in hospital. There are people coming in and out, medications we don't know about, too many opportunities to hurt him. We'll take him home tomorrow. You, and your staff have been spectacular. Someone from the Palace will call you in the morning, to make arrangements for appropriate care there. It will be better, for you and your other patients, to have us out of your hair."

Walsh looks like he wants to object, but Boone cuts him off. "She's determined AF, Walsh. Just give the Princess what she wants."

Walsh shrugs. "We'll see. Keep him sitting up, and talking. Get some food into him, I'll come back in a bit."

"Thank you," Eleanor says sincerely.

He turns to Boone, "You're scaring the shit out of the nurses. Knock it off!"

Boone's not even slightly bothered. "That's not very nice. I'm not scary if they'd take the time to get to know me."

Jasper makes a sound, and it becomes a cough, which hurts like hell. Eleanor looks down, concern flickering across her face. Boone smirks, like he knows what Jasper was planning to say, and thinks he deserves the pain. He turns to Walsh, "His nervous system's working great."

Walsh shakes his head, "Nice patient care. Even he," Walsh nods at Jasper, "thinks you're a psychopath. And he's only been conscious half an hour." He sighs in quasi-defeat, "I'll be back for rounds. Page me if you need anything." His tone is friendly, even if the words are obviously not. Whatever bromance is happening here, it seems well established, and Eleanor seems totally comfortable, so Jasper is not going to add it to his list of worries. The longer he's awake, the longer that list gets.

This short interaction has exhausted Jasper. He's overwhelmed that Eleanor is even here. He has a million questions, and he can't prioritize them. Belatedly, it occurs to him that he wasn't alone on that dias. "Where is Robert?" He asks.

"At the Palace. He's fine." Eleanor tells him. "Everyone else is fine."

"What the hell happened?"

"Well, that's the question of the week, innit?" Boone replies.

Eleanor flounces in her seat, glares at Boone. "It doesn't matter. Everybody is okay, and you're coming home. That's what's important."

Boone shakes his head, and walks towards the door. "It will do for now. I'll be outside if you need anything."

Jasper manages a nod. Eleanor leaves the bedside and kisses Boone's cheek. "Thank you," she tells him. Boone blushes, and pushes her off. "Welcome back, Frost. 'Night Dorothy." He closes the door softly behind him.

Eleanor takes Jasper's hand again. "I read your letters. Every one of them. I'm sorry I didn't write back. I couldn't. But I didn't give up on us, and I promise, I won't go anywhere again." She's right there. He could kiss her if he moved his head a little.

"Okay," he says. He knows he's smiling like an idiot. He doesn't mind if she doesn't.

"Okay," Eleanor agrees. Lucky for Jasper, she's not like most people. She won't give up, and together, they will figure this out. This is their second chance, and they are going to seize it.