Beau's chest was really painful. It was like something heavy was sitting on it, and every intake of breath he was managing now was hurting him. The thing was, these days Beau had a very high pain threshold so when he was in pain enough for him to be distressed by it, it was usually serious business. He could barely even put his finger on the last thing he remembered. His throat hurt and he was coughing a little now he was conscious to it hurting and feeling raw. This was the moment a person regaining consciousness could usually panic when nothing made sense, they didn't understand where they were, or why, or how sick they had been to lead them here.

He was drawing off Austin, though. He focused on Austin holding his hand, and it allayed the initial urge to freak the fuck out at first when he saw Austin and could match the face to the familiar voice. There was a bit of a woozy, unfocused gaze but his vision cleared to make Austin out and he calmed a little. There were wires and tubes every-fucking-where. He wished he didn't have a familiarity with this, but he did. Still all too clearly familiar. Then, "Fuck... knew y'couldn't d'it," he mumbled, sounding like he had laryngitis. He closed his eyes and tried to wet his dry lips. Waking up like this was making him dizzy and woozy, a sick feeling churning in his stomach because everything was bright and buzzing to his sensory perception.