No one had realized. Under Arthur’s clothes, beneath his calm facade—his body was covered in wounds. And despite his injuries, he had still insisted on giving blood to Taylor. So much blood. Was he trying to get himself killed? Arthur remained unconscious, an IV drip attached to his arm. Even in his sleep, his brows were tightly furrowed, as if he were still deep in worry. Sage helped the nurses push Arthur back to his hospital room, while Hugo and Cold Frost stayed behind, still waiting outside the operating room. Taylor’s condition was critical. His injuries were severe, and the delay in treatment only made things worse. Even though Arthur had donated blood, the doctors weren’t confident. Arthur finally woke up. His entire body was bandaged. Nearly every inch of him was wrapped in white gauze. The moment his eyes opened, he asked urgently, “Sage, how’s Taylor?” Sage, startled by how fast Arthur had come to, immediately moved to check on him. “You’re awake—how do you feel? Do you need some water?” Arthur’s throat was dry, but he shook his head. Instead, he repeated his question. “Has Taylor’s surgery finished? Is he okay?” Sage sighed and handed him a cup of water. “The surgery isn’t over yet. We still don’t know.” Arthur’s expression tightened.He glanced at the clock on the wall. It had been hours and the surgery still wasn’t done. His fingers curled into fists. “What did the doctors say?” he asked, voice hoarse with worry. If Taylor died because of him, Arthur would never forgive himself. Sage shook his head. “No updates yet. They’re doing everything they can.” Arthur’s stomach twisted with guilt. “This is my fault. If it weren’t for me, Taylor wouldn’t have been kidnapped. He wouldn’t have gotten hurt.” Sage cut him off. “Arthur, this isn’t the time for self-blame. What happened was because of the Tremo family, not you. You’re a victim too. And I know you’d never want Taylor to get hurt.” Arthur fell silent. Sage was right. What was the point of blaming himself now? He forced himself to take a breath, then pushed the blankets off. “I want to wait outside the operating room,” he said. Sage hesitated. Arthur was covered in wounds—large and small. He should be resting. But looking at Arthur’s stubborn eyes, Sage knew there was no convincing him otherwise. And truthfully, he wanted to wait there too. Taylor was the youngest among them. The most cheerful. The most carefree. He must have been terrified going through all of this alone.When he woke up, at least seeing familiar faces would make him feel safe. Sage sighed and gave in. He helped Arthur into a wheelchair and pushed him toward the operating room. Hugo and Cold Frost were still waiting. The moment they saw Arthur and Sage, they rushed over. Hugo frowned. “Arthur, you’re injured. You should be resting.” Arthur shook his head. “I’m worried about Taylor.” Hugo and Cold Frost fell silent. They understood. They were just as worried. They stared at the tightly closed operating room doors, feeling as if they had been waiting forever. Then, finally— The doors opened. Arthur nearly jumped out of his wheelchair. Sage had to push him back down, rolling him forward instead. “Doctor!” they all called at once. “How is he? Did the surgery go well?” The doctor exhaled, a small smile appearing on his face. “It was a success. The knife has been removed, and the wound has been stitched up. He needs rest, careful monitoring to prevent infection, and proper nutrition. But he’ll be okay.” Relief flooded over them. “Thank God!” The heavy weight in their chests finally lifted. They had been on edge for hours, fearing the worst.And now— Taylor was safe. Arthur’s eyes stung. He looked at Taylor, lying peacefully in the hospital bed. Finally, he smiled. “Taylor… you’re okay.” The anesthesia hadn’t worn off yet. Taylor slept soundly, his face calm. Even now, he looked just like the carefree Taylor they all knew.