Hospitals had never been great in his experience. Levy usually did anything in his power to keep out of them, which usually meant enduring a lot of pain that might have been deemed unnecessary by most. This time, he didn't have a choice in the matter and simply woke up in one, but it was very likely even if he had been conscience he wouldn't have had much of a choice.

There was at least some relief in the shoulder joint he'd attempt to put back in its socket on his own. There was a distinct memory of pain, which had resulted in the second blacking out. Something else happened before that, but he wasn't sure what. Still, he could recall the world they'd uncovered under Littleroot, getting dragged down there by Zev Harcourt and being unmercifully targeted by the most unearthly song. The same song he woke up to in the hospital room, only then to be drowned in the vacuous whitespace and vacancy of the sterile atmosphere. Blood in the back of his throat, dried in the cracks of his teeth, the ache of bruises and what might have been a broken rib and the burn of a barely avoided infection to the deep cut on his leg.

Okay, so he was a bit of a wreck. Kind of what happened when one was caught up in an explosion they couldn't prevent. He'd stayed there long enough, even if he had no idea how long he had been there for. That didn't matter, any time was too much for a scrawny dog like him that spent a long time on the streets avoiding places like this. Now, it was time to escape. He pulled the IV free, the pulse monitor, the multitude of cords they put in him, wincing as he pried the covers away. Hospital gown, of course, not great.

He froze then as the door knob jostled and a body stepped in. Certainly not caught in the precarious state of looking like he was running away. It wasn't a doctor though.