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Author's POV
The ICU doors closed with a metallic thud that echoed like a final warning.
Shivansh's choti maa - her doctor's coat still smelling faintly of antiseptic - had rushed him inside, her hands stained with both dust from the road and streaks of blood.
Outside, the hallway was suffocatingly silent at first. A few nurses walked past, but their hurried steps sounded far too loud against the polished floor.
Ranveer stood nearest to the ICU doors, his palm still pressed against them as if willing them to open again. His other hand was clenched into a fist so tight that his knuckles were pale. Aviyansh stood next to him, staring at the floor, tapping his foot in a restless rhythm that betrayed his anxiety.
Shivansh's father stood still, his arms crossed, his lips pressed into a thin, hard line. He was trying to keep his composure, but his eyes... they betrayed him. They were glassy, unfocused, replaying the words Ranveer had told him about the accident.
His uncle was on the phone, speaking in hushed but urgent tones, calling guards to search the road or do anything to get them updates faster.
Shivansh's mother was leaning against the wall, her shoulders trembling. She had kept her eyes closed ever since they brought her son in, refusing to look at anyone. She didn't speak, but a single tear traced down her cheek, and her motherly instincts screamed in her chest.
The grandmother-fragile but stubborn-moved closer to her, placing a firm hand on her shoulder.
"Hold yourself together, beta... he will be fine," she whispered, though her own voice cracked.
Then, a sudden sound broke the tense quiet-Shivansh mother's choked sob. She covered her mouth with her hand, but the sound had already escaped. She stumbled toward Shivansh's father, hugging him tightly.
"Abhi.. please... please tell me he's going to be fine," she said between sobs, her voice trembling.
Shivansh's father's arms instinctively went around her, holding her as tightly as he could. His voice, deep and steady in every business meeting, now shook.
"He will. He has to. My son... my boy... he's strong."
Ranveer suddenly turned around and slammed his fist lightly against the wall-not in anger, but in frustration. "We should've reached him earlier! If I had just-"
"Don't you dare blame yourself!" Aviyansh's voice cut through the tension, sharper than intended. "You were the one who got him out of that car. If it weren't for you-"
"I still heard him, Aviyansh," Ranveer said, his voice breaking now. "He said... he said he didn't cheat... he said he loved her. He was barely holding on. And then... I heard the crash."
Everyone fell silent.
The weight of those words settled in the air like a heavy blanket. Even the beeping of distant monitors seemed to fade under the intensity of the moment. A nurse came outside from the ICU.
Shivansh's mother finally opened her eyes, looking at Ranveer. "I... I want to go inside," she said. Her voice was barely above a whisper.
"Not yet," the nurse at the desk intervened gently, stepping closer. "The doctor is still assessing him. Please... let us do our work."
Shivansh's father took a deep breath, trying to regain control. He turned to his brother. "Make sure our hospital staff is ready for anything. If they need specialists, I want them here in minutes."
"Yes," his chote papa replied immediately, already pulling out his phone.
Minutes passed like hours. Every time the ICU doors swung open for a nurse or attendant, everyone's heads turned sharply, hoping-praying-for news.
Finally, Shivansh's choti maa emerged briefly, her face unreadable, gloves still on her hands. She looked at the family, scanning their anxious faces, then said, "He's alive. That's what matters right now. But he's not out of danger yet. We need to keep him stable."
Shivansh's mother's knees almost gave way, and her father had to steady her. Shivansh dadi sa began crying again, this time silently, tears falling onto the floor.
Ranveer closed his eyes and whispered something no one else could hear-
"Hold on, brother... please... hold on."
The clock on the wall seemed louder than usual, each tick stretching into an eternity. No one spoke much-every few minutes, one of them would glance at the ICU doors, hoping for news.
When the nurse reappeared, she looked straight at Shivansh's aunt.
"You can come in for a few minutes," she said.
His aunt rose immediately, her saree brushing against the metal arm of the chair. She didn't speak to anyone as she walked, but her hands were clasped tightly, knuckles white.
Inside the ICU, the hum of machines was louder than she remembered. Shivansh looked exactly as before-too still, too pale-but there was something in the steady rhythm of the heart monitor that made her exhale just a little. She sat beside him, brushing her fingers lightly over his wrist.
"Shivansh," she murmured, "you've scared us enough. Your maa is crying outside, your father hasn't eaten all day. I know you can hear me, so stop being stubborn."
She stayed longer than she intended, whispering prayers under her breath, until the doctor returned with two attendants.
"We're transferring him to a private ward," the nurse explained quietly. "The critical stage is over, but he still needs close monitoring."
Within minutes, they had wheeled his bed out, IV lines and monitors moving with him. The family rose to their feet instantly, forming a silent corridor as he was rolled past. No one dared touch him, but every pair of eyes followed until the bed disappeared down the hallway.
A few minutes later, his choti maa returned, her face drawn but her eyes steadier than before. Everyone immediately gathered around her-Ranveer, Aviyansh, shivansh parents, even his grandmother leaning forward from her chair.
"He's safe," she said first, as if she knew that we only thing they needed to hear right now. A wave of relieved sighs swept through the group, but she lifted her hand to quiet them.
"Still... we have to keep him under observation for at least 48 hours. The doctors said if he doesn't wake up in that time, it could become... complicated."
Shivansh mother's hands flew to her mouth. His grandmother's eyes brimmed with fresh tears.
"But," Shivansh choti maa added quickly, her voice softening, "I believe he will wake up before that. I saw him-his fingers moved when I spoke to him. He's fighting. He just needs time."
The words settled over the group like a fragile blanket-thin, but enough to keep hope alive.
The nurse finally stepped out from behind the sliding glass doors, pulling her mask slightly down.
"You can go in now... but only two at a time."
The words seemed to jolt everyone out of their silent vigil. Ranveer immediately looked at Shivansh's father, silently asking if he could go first. But his father's hand rested gently on his mother's shoulder.
"You go," he told her softly. "He needs to feel his mother near him."
Her lips trembled as she nodded. She took one slow step forward, and the nurse helped her put on a disposable gown, gloves, and mask. Ranveer followed, his own chest tightening as he adjusted the mask over his face.
The moment they stepped in, the air changed.
It smelled of antiseptic and metal... and the soft rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound breaking the stillness.
Shivansh lay on the narrow bed, his skin pale under the harsh white light. His head was bandaged, a thin trail of dried blood near his hairline. An oxygen mask covered his mouth and nose, his chest rising and falling in shallow, steady breaths. Tubes and wires connected him to monitors, each one silently declaring that his life was hanging by a thread.
His mother's breath caught the instant she saw him.
"Mera beta..." she whispered, her voice breaking as she reached for his hand. It was cold, but when her fingers wrapped around it, she swore she felt the faintest squeeze.
Ranveer stood at the foot of the bed, his eyes scanning every bruise, every cut. His throat burned, but he forced himself not to cry. Instead, he leaned closer, speaking quietly.
"Shivansh... it's me. You're safe now, okay? We're all outside, waiting for you. You... you still owe me a drink, remember? So you can't leave."
For a moment, nothing happened. The machines beeped steadily, indifferent to human pain.
His mother smoothed the hair from his forehead, careful not to touch the bandage. "I'm here, beta... your papa's here, your whole family is here. Please... just open your eyes."
A tear slid down her cheek and fell onto his hand. Ranveer noticed it-and swore he saw the faintest twitch in Shivansh's fingers again.
Outside the glass wall, Aviyansh, Aarya and the rest of the family stood watching, their hands pressed against the transparent partition. Dadi sa's lips moved in silent prayer.
When the nurse gestured for them to step out, his mother lingered for a second longer, pressing her forehead against his arm. Ranveer whispered one last thing before leaving-
"Don't make us wait too long, shiv. We're not complete without you."
As they stepped out, shivansh grand father and grand mother were already pulling on gowns to go in next, ready to take their turn by his side.
The soft beeping of the monitors was the only sound inside the private ward, the slow rhythm both a comfort and a constant reminder of how fragile things were. The doctors had stepped out, giving the family permission to visit him in pairs.
First, his mother and Ranveer had gone in, their tearful voices and hushed words still lingering in everyone's minds as they came back out. His mother's eyes were swollen, her dupatta crumpled in her fists, while Ranveer's normally easy smile was gone-replaced by a clenched jaw and glassy eyes.
Now it was time for the others.
His grandmother refused to wait for someone to escort her; she gripped her cane and walked in with slow determination. His grandfather followed, a hand resting protectively on her arm.
The moment she saw him, her lips trembled.
"Bachha..." she whispered, her voice shaking. "You've never slept so long without talking to your Dadi sa. Even when you were little, you would get up in the middle of the night just to ask for another story. Now you're making us wait for you to wake up."
His grandfather stood at the foot of the bed, clearing his throat to hide the crack in his voice.
"You always told me you were stronger than me," he said softly, eyes fixed on Shivansh's still face. "Now prove it. Wake up, beta. We have so much left to argue about."
His grandmother reached out, smoothing his hair back gently. "We are all here, waiting. Don't you dare make us wait too long."
After a few more minutes, they reluctantly stepped out, their silence heavy but their eyes holding onto hope.
Aviyansh was quiet when he entered, his usual energetic swagger gone. He stood beside the bed for a long moment without speaking, then finally pulled a chair closer.
"Bhai sa," he said, forcing a chuckle that didn't quite land, "this is the longest you've ever ignored my calls. If this is your way of teaching me patience, it's working."
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
"You know, I've been thinking about all the times you've pulled me out of trouble. Now it's my turn. But you've gotta help me here, hmm? Open your eyes and tell me what to do. You're the one who always has the plan."
His voice dipped, quieter now.
"Don't leave me hanging, bhai sa, Not you."
He patted Shivansh's arm gently before leaving, his shoulders stiff as he walked out.
His uncle entered with a deep sigh, hands clasped behind his back like he was holding himself together.
"You know," he began, standing beside the bed, "you remind me so much of your father when we were young. Always stubborn, always ready to take the whole world on your shoulders."
He shook his head slightly.
"That's a good thing, but it's also why you're here now. You push yourself too hard. For once, let the rest of us handle things. Just... wake up so we can yell at you for scaring us like this."
There was a faint smile on his uncle's face, but his eyes betrayed the fear he carried. He gave Shivansh's hand a light squeeze before stepping back.
Aarya hesitated at the doorway, his broad frame filling the entrance. He wasn't family by blood, but everyone knew he was Shivansh's shadow-his right hand in work, security, and life.
When he finally stepped inside, his boots barely made a sound on the polished floor. He stood at the side of the bed, looking down at Shivansh with an unreadable expression.
"You hate when I call you 'sir,'" he said after a long pause. "But that's who you are to me. My sir. My leader. My friend."
He leaned forward slightly.
"I've seen you fight in situations where most men would give up. This... this is nothing compared to those. So don't take too long. We've still got work to do, and I can't do it without you."
For the first time, Aarya's voice faltered. "Don't make me stand guard over an empty chair."
He straightened, gave a small nod, and left quietly, his usual stoic mask cracking just enough for the others outside to see the redness in his eyes.
One by one, everyone stepped in-some speaking to him softly, some just standing in silence, their presence enough to say what words couldn't. Each touch on his hand, each whispered promise to be here when he woke, added another layer to the unspoken plea that filled the ward.
By the time the Aarya came out, the air outside the room felt heavier, thick with shared fear and fragile hope. Every one of them had told him to wake up. Now all they could do was wait-and hope he'd heard them.
The corridor outside the private ward felt unusually still, even though there were doctors and nurses quietly moving about. The only sound breaking the silence was the faint beeping from the heart monitor inside Shivansh's room. Everyone was gathered in a tight circle-Ranveer, Aviyansh, Shivansh's parents, grandparents, uncle, aunt, and even Aarya-each face marked with exhaustion, worry, and the faint glisten of tears.
Ranveer glanced toward the ward's closed glass door, his jaw tightening. "Alright," he said, his tone calm but firm, "you all should go home now. I'll stay here with him. Whatever news there is-good or bad-I'll call immediately."
The reaction was instant.
"What? No! Ranveer, we're not leaving him like this," Shivansh's mother protested, her voice trembling, her doctor's composure cracked by the rawness of being a mother. "He's my son. I can't just-"
"I know, choti maa," Ranveer interrupted softly, addressing her respectfully but with the kind of steady authority that made people listen to him. "But you've been here since the accident. You've been crying, pacing... You haven't even had a glass of water properly. If you collapse, that will make things worse for him."
Her eyes welled again. "But-"
"Shivansh wouldn't want you to break yourself like this," Ranveer added, his voice dropping lower. "I've seen how much he worries about you. You need rest, so you can be strong when he wakes up. Let me handle the night."
His father shook his head. "Ranveer, beta, you've been running around since the moment you got the call. We can take turns-"
"There's no need for shifts," Ranveer countered, his expression unwavering. "I'm staying. You all need to go home, eat something, sleep, and come back tomorrow with clear heads."
His grandmother clutched her shawl tighter. "I won't leave my grandson alone," she said firmly. "Not tonight."
Ranveer stepped toward her and gently took her hand. "Dadi sa... he's not alone. I'm here. And I promise, I'll sit beside him the whole night. If anything changes-anything at all-I'll call before you even pick up your tea."
There was a pause. Aviyansh looked from face to face, clearly torn. "Bhai sa.. I could stay too. Two people are better than one."
"No, Avi," Ranveer said, shaking his head. "You've already been through a lot today. You were there at the accident site, pulling him out of the car. Your hands are still scraped. Go home. You need the rest as much as anyone."
Aarya, standing silently near the wall, spoke up for the first time. "I can keep guard outside."
"You can go with them," Ranveer replied, though his tone was softer now. "Trust me, no one's getting in here without me knowing."
Shivansh's uncle still seemed unconvinced. "Are you sure you can handle it alone? Nights in hospitals are... heavy."
Ranveer met his gaze. "I've seen heavier. And he's my responsibility too. Let me do this."
There was a moment where everyone exchanged glances, silent debates playing out in their eyes. Shivansh's mother still hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the ends of her dupatta. Ranveer placed a hand on her shoulder.
"I'll keep him safe. I'll keep him company. And I'll make sure that when you walk in tomorrow, you'll see him exactly the same-or better."
Her lips pressed into a trembling line. Finally, she nodded, though tears still rolled down her cheeks. "Fine... but if there's any change-"
"You'll be the first to know," Ranveer promised.
One by one, the family members began to move toward the exit. Aviyansh gave Ranveer a long look before clapping his shoulder silently in trust. Aarya muttered something about checking the accident area before following. Shivansh's grandparents lingered the longest, but eventually, even they stepped away.
When the last footsteps faded down the hall, the ward was quiet again. Ranveer pushed open the glass door and stepped inside. The steady beeping of the monitor was louder now, the room dim except for the soft overhead light.
Ranveer entered the room quietly, shutting the door behind him with deliberate care. The smell of antiseptic was sharp in the chilled air. Shivansh lay pale against the white sheets, an oxygen tube resting beneath his nose, his head wrapped in a light bandage. His chest rose and fell in slow, steady breaths, but his stillness was unnerving.
Ranveer pulled the chair closer to the bed and sat down, resting his forearms on his knees. For a long moment, he simply watched his friend's face, looking for any twitch, any sign of consciousness.
Shivansh lay still, his face pale but peaceful. The faint scent of antiseptic hung in the air. Ranveer pulled the chair closer to the bed and sat down heavily. For a long moment, he just studied his friend's face, the rise and fall of his chest.
"You gave everyone a hell of a scare today," Ranveer murmured, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. "But I'm here now... so don't you dare think of going anywhere."
He reached over, resting a hand gently on Shivansh's arm. "You've got 48 hours to wake up, remember? And knowing you... you'll probably take 47 hours and 59 minutes just to be dramatic."
The only reply was the rhythmic beep of the machine. Ranveer sighed, settling into the chair, his eyes fixed on his brother.The night stretched ahead, but he was ready to keep watch-no matter how long it took.
Ranveer softly said "You've scared the hell out of everyone, y'know that?"
His voice carried a mix of irritation and relief, like an elder brother trying to mask fear behind a scolding.
The monitor beeped steadily in the background. Ranveer leaned back in his chair, running a hand down his face. His phone buzzed-it was Shivansh's father.
Father (over call): "Did you get everyone to leave?"
Ranveer: "Yes. They're all heading home now. I'll stay here until morning."
Father: "...Thank you, beta."
Ranveer don't know where he went when everyone was busy meeting shivansh, shivansh father vanished.
When the call ended, Ranveer glanced back at Shivansh.
Ranveer: "choti maa.. she was crying. And Dadi sa-she didn't want to leave. They all think you'll wake up soon. And so do I."
He reached forward, adjusting the blanket over Shivansh. His eyes lingered on the faint scrape along his brother's jawline, the kind of mark that would fade in days but left a lasting reminder of how close things had been.
The night deepened, and Ranveer stayed right there-watching, waiting, occasionally speaking to the unconscious figure as if his words might bridge the gap between them.
Ranveer: "You better open your eyes in the next forty-eight hours, Shivansh. Because if you don't, I'll drag you back myself."
Outside, Aarya, he came back and now paced the corridor, occasionally glancing at the closed door, ready to rush in at the slightest sign of trouble. The hospital lights buzzed faintly, a constant, sterile reminder that time moved forward even in the quietest, most desperate hours.
The private cabin was silent except for the steady, rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor. The air inside felt heavy, almost sacred, like the room itself was holding its breath. Ranveer hadn't moved much since everyone had left last night. His chair was pulled so close to the hospital bed that his knees were almost touching the side rails.
He sat slightly hunched forward, elbows resting on his thighs, hands loosely clasped together. His eyes - fixed on the still figure lying in the bed - barely blinked. It was as if he was afraid that if he looked away for even a second, something might happen.
Shivansh's face looked pale under the fluorescent hospital lights, but the gentle rise and fall of his chest reassured Ranveer that he was still fighting.
Ranveer leaned forward a little more and murmured softly, almost as if speaking to himself.
"Bas... bas ek baar aankhein khol de, Shiv... sirf ek baar. Tujhe pata bhi hai kitna darraya tune sabko?"
( just open your eyes once, Shiv... just once. Do you even know how much you have hurt everyone?)
He reached out and adjusted the blanket over Shivansh's shoulder, tucking it in carefully. There was no response - only the sound of the monitor and the faint hum of the air conditioning. Ranveer sighed and rested his forehead on his folded hands for a moment, letting the weight of the night press down on him.
Hours passed like this. At some point, exhaustion started creeping in. Ranveer's eyes burned, and his body screamed for rest. But still, he didn't move far from the bed. Eventually, without realizing, he leaned back in the chair, head tilted slightly, and closed his eyes. It wasn't deep sleep - more like a fragile doze that could break with the slightest sound.
When dawn began to seep in through the small window, the light was faint and grey. The corridor outside was quiet except for the occasional footsteps of nurses changing shifts. Ranveer stirred, opening his eyes briefly to check on Shivansh, then let them close again.
It must have been an hour or two later when the sound of soft voices in the hallway pulled him fully awake. He rubbed his eyes and sat straighter just as the door to the cabin opened slowly.
Ranveer had just stretched his neck after sitting in the same position for hours, his gaze fixed on Shivansh's pale face. The steady beeping of the monitor was the only reassurance keeping his heart from spiraling into panic.
Shivansh's chest rose and fell in a slow rhythm, but his skin still looked drained of its usual warmth. Ranveer's elbow rested on the side of the bed, his hand lightly gripping Shivansh's arm - not enough to disturb him, but enough to feel that faint, living pulse beneath his fingers.
Shivansh's mother stepped in first, holding a neatly folded blanket in her arms. Her face was calm but tired, her hair tied back in a loose bun. Behind her came Shivansh's father, carrying a thermos and a small bag. And just behind them, aviyansh mother followed, adjusting the dupatta over her shoulder as she entered.
"Ranveer beta," Shivansh's mother said softly, her voice warm but filled with concern. "Tum yahan puri raat baith gaye?"
( You sat here all night?)
Ranveer nodded, standing up quickly. "Haan... main... main jaane ka soch nahi paaya. Kya pata, agar yeh jaag jaata toh..." He trailed off, looking toward the bed again.
( Yes... I... I couldn't think of going. Who knows, if he wakes up.)
Shivansh's father walked over and put a hand on Ranveer's shoulder. "Hum samajhte hain. Lekin tumhe bhi thoda aaram lena chahiye."
( We understand. But you should also get some rest.)
"Main theek hoon, chote papa," Ranveer said quickly. "Main sirf... dekh raha hoon ki kab inki aankhein khulengi."
( I'm fine, chote papa.)
( I'm just... waiting to see when his eyes will open.)
Aviyansh's mother stepped closer to the bed, her eyes scanning Shivansh's face. She reached out and adjusted the pillow under his head, then checked the IV line with a practiced touch. "Inka pulse theek lag raha hai... par abhi kamzor hai," she murmured.
( His pulse seems fine... but it's still weak.)
Shivansh's mother unfolded the blanket she'd brought and draped it gently over Ranveer's lap. "Ye le lo. Thoda toh Sarah Karo. Raat bhar yahan baithoge toh tum bhi bimar pad jaoge."
( Take this. Appreciate it a little. If you sit here all night, you will fall sick.)
Ranveer gave a small smile, almost embarrassed. "Aap meri Chinta kar rahee ho, jabki mujhe inki chinta karni chahiye."
( You are worried about me when I should be worried about him.)
"Chinta dono ki hoti hai, beta," she replied, giving his arm a gentle squeeze.
( I am worried for both of you, beta.)
Just then, a faint sound made all of them freeze - a soft, almost imperceptible groan from the bed. Ranveer's head snapped toward Shivansh instantly. His heart skipped a beat.
"Shivansh?" he whispered urgently, stepping closer. "Shiv.. sun raha hai tu?"
( Shiv.. are you listening.)
Shivansh's fingers twitched against the bedsheet. His eyelids moved slightly, as if trying to lift but too heavy to open.
Shivansh's father moved closer, standing beside Ranveer. "Call the doctor!" he called out toward the door, and aviyansh fatger immediately stepped out to find his wife.
Ranveer leaned in, his voice low but trembling with relief. "Main yahan hoon, Shiv. Tu safe hai. Bas aankhein khol de..."
( I am here, Shiv. You are safe. Just open your eyes.)
Slowly, painfully, Shivansh's eyes opened - just a fraction, but enough to let them know he was conscious.
Shivansh's mother's hand flew to her mouth, and her eyes filled with tears. "Mera beta..." she whispered.
Ranveer let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding and gave a small, shaky smile. "Tu samajhta nahi... kitna intezaar karaya tune."
( You don't understand... you made me wait so long.)
The sound of hurried footsteps echoed faintly in the hospital corridor outside the private cabin.
From the faint reflection in the glass door, Ranveer could see the silhouettes of family members in the hallway. They weren't speaking much - just shifting, pacing, and looking at the closed door as though it were the only thing keeping them from falling apart.
Ranveer stood up quickly, his chair scraping the floor softly.
"How is he?" His voice was low, almost urgent.
The doctor didn't answer immediately. Instead, he moved closer to the bed, checking the chart at the foot of it, then gently pressing the stethoscope against Shivansh's chest. The rhythmic lub-dub of his heart filled Ranveer with an odd, shaky relief.
Outside, the family crowded closer to the door, straining to hear. Shivansh maa hand was wrapped tightly around Aviyansh's arm. The grandparents stood together, the grandmother silently mouthing a prayer.
After a few minutes, the doctor straightened and looked at Ranveer with calm assurance.
"His vitals are stable. He's responding to treatment. But..." - his eyes flicked briefly to the monitor - "he still needs rest. We keep him under observation, make sure there's no internal complication. You can meet him now, but there is no crowding, and keep it brief."
The words you can meet him now were like a gate swinging open. Ranveer exhaled a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. He turned toward the door, nodding for the family to come inside.
The moment the door opened fully, the hallway seemed to shift from silent waiting to restrained motion. Shivansh's grandmother was the first to step in, her saree pallu trembling slightly in her hands. She walked to the side of the bed, lowering herself slowly into the chair Ranveer had vacated.
"Shivansh beta..." Her voice was soft, trembling. She brushed her fingers across his hairline, tears slipping down her cheeks. "We're all here... you just wake up soon, hmm?"
His grandfather stood just behind her, his hands clasped tightly together, knuckles white. "You almost gave us a heart attack." he murmured, though his voice carried the weight of suppressed emotion. "No more of this... reckless business."
Next came his mother, the doctor's composure still on her face but her eyes betraying the ache beneath. She placed her hand over his and squeezed gently. "I'll make sure the doctors keep the best watch on you," she said, almost in a whisper, before kissing his forehead.
Aviyansh stepped forward, awkward but sincere. "Bhai sa, just open your eyes already. I've got so many things to tell you." His attempt at humor didn't hide the strain in his voice.
Even Aarya, the usually composed security aide, stepped forward with his arms crossed, as though unsure how much emotion he was allowed to show. "Sir... we're all waiting outside. Don't make us wait too long."
Each family member lingered a moment before stepping back to let the next one approach. The room felt warmer now, filled with the presence of those who loved him.
Through it all, Ranveer remained by the door, watching closely, his relief tempered with vigilance. He knew this was only the first step.
For a long moment, there was only the hum of the monitor, the slow mechanical rhythm marking each beat of his heart. The family stood scattered around the bed, each clinging to their own quiet prayers. Ranveer stayed at the corner, hands in his pockets, his eyes never leaving Shivansh's face.
And then-so slight it could have been missed-Shivansh's fingers twitched.
It was his grandmother who noticed first. Her breath caught in her throat, and she reached forward, her trembling fingers wrapping around his hand.
"Shivansh...?"
The room seemed to freeze. Every pair of eyes turned toward him.
His brows furrowed faintly, like someone pulling themselves from a deep, endless sleep. Then, slowly, his eyelids fluttered. For a second, he squinted against the dim hospital light above him, his gaze unfocused, almost as if he was searching for where he was.
"Shivansh!" His mother's voice broke on his name. She was at his side in an instant, pressing his hand to her chest as if to reassure herself he was real, warm, breathing.
His breathing deepened, and finally-finally-his eyes opened fully. Those familiar dark irises, dulled by exhaustion but still carrying the same weight they had five years ago, scanned the room.
At first, confusion clouded his face. But then, recognition seeped in. One by one, his gaze found them - the people who had waited, the people who had feared they might never see this again.
When his eyes landed on his grandmother, something inside him cracked.
"Dadi sa, " His voice was raw, barely a whisper.
She covered her mouth to stifle a sob and leaned closer, pressing her forehead to his. "You foolish boy... do you know how long I've been waiting to hear your voice again?"
His grandfather stepped closer, his voice gruff but trembling. "Five years, shiv, Five long years."
Shivansh swallowed hard, his throat dry. The years apart, the silences, the unspoken words - they all pressed in at once. "I... didn't think..." He stopped, the words crumbling.
His mother took his other hand, her thumb brushing gently over his knuckles. "We thought we lost you. Twice. I don't want to think about a third time."
Even Aviyansh's usual sharpness softened. He leaned against the railing of the bed, forcing a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Don't scare us like that again, Bhai sa. You've got... a lot of explaining to do."
Shivansh's gaze moved from face to face, drinking them in like someone who had been starving for years. His lips curved in the faintest, tired smile. "You're... all still here."
Ranveer finally stepped forward, the careful control in his expression cracking for just a second. "Where else would we be?" His voice was low, steady, but his eyes shone with relief.
Shivansh blinked, and something shifted in him — the guardedness he carried like armor fell away for just this moment. "I thought… after all this time… maybe I wouldn't…" His voice faltered again, and this time he didn't fight the tears that gathered.
His grandmother cupped his face, her own tears falling freely. "Even if it were fifty years, you would still find us here, waiting. We are family. Nothing changes that."
For a long time, no one spoke. They simply stayed there — touching his hand, his hair, his arm — as though each needed to confirm that this was real. That he was back.
And though the hospital walls were the same pale shade, and the scent of antiseptic lingered, the air in the room had changed. It was warmer now, threaded with the quiet miracle of reunion after half a decade of absence.
The room was still thick with the relief of having him awake when it happened. His grandmother's hand was still cupping his cheek, his mother's palm resting over his wrist, and everyone was speaking at once, their voices overlapping — soft questions, reassurances, fragments of love after five years of silence.
"How are you feeling, beta?" his mother asked, her voice low and trembling.
"Does it hurt anywhere?" his grandmother added quickly, brushing his hair back.
"We should let him rest," his father said, though his own eyes never left Shivansh's face.
"You scared the hell out of us, Bhai sa, " Aviyansh muttered with forced lightness.
"Careful, careful—don't try to move too much yet," Ranveer warned.
The air inside the private hospital room was thick with a silence that felt almost alive. The beeping of the heart monitor echoed steadily, but beneath it was a tension no one could put into words. Ranveer sat closest to the bed, his body leaning forward, his eyes trained on every twitch of Shivansh's face.
Shivansh had only moments ago stirred from unconsciousness, mumbling words that nobody could quite understand. His lips had trembled, repeating a single name—Isha—but the words had been faint, incomplete, scattered like broken glass on the floor.
Everyone else—his mother, father, grandparents, choti maa, chote papa and his cousin brothers—stood clustered near the wall. They were anxious, desperate to come closer, but Ranveer's sharp order earlier still echoed in their heads:
"Not all of you at once. Give him space to breathe. I'll handle it. Please—just trust me."
They had listened reluctantly. And now, as Shivansh's breathing grew uneven, his eyes fluttering, a strange urgency gripped him. He moved suddenly—too suddenly—his plastered arm jerking upward, his other hand tugging at the IV line.
"Shivansh!" Ranveer immediately pressed his shoulders down, panic rushing through him. "Stop—what are you doing?"
"Shivansh!" his mother gasped, tightening her hold on his hand.
"What are you doing?" Ranveer leaned forward.
But he wasn't listening. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his eyes wide, frantic. "No, no, I have to—she's waiting for me—"
But Shivansh's voice cracked the air, raw and desperate:
"I have to go… she's waiting for me! She was waiting… she's alive—no, no, you don't understand!"
The family gasped in unison. His mother clutched her chest, tears already burning her eyes. His choti maa whispered shakily, "Who… who is he talking about?"
Ranveer's jaw tightened. He didn't answer. His mind was already racing.
Shivansh struggled again, his injured leg jerking despite the bandages. He winced in pain but kept pushing against Ranveer's hold, delirium clear in his eyes.
"She… she said she'd wait… I never went… I should've gone… damn it!"
He pushed at the bed with his elbow, trying to lift himself. His legs shifted under the blanket, but the moment weight pressed down, pain ripped through him. His right leg, tightly bandaged and braced, refused to move.
"Shivansh, stop! Don't!" his grandmother pleaded, trying to hold him down.
But his panic was stronger than reason. He clawed at the blanket with his plastered hand, wincing, trying to throw it off. The other hand, the one hooked up to the IV line, tugged sharply against the tape, making the fluid bag above sway dangerously.
"No, she'll be waiting—she doesn't know I'm hurt—she'll think I didn't come—" His words tumbled out, broken, scattered, his voice rising with each attempt to push himself upright. His eyes darted toward the door as though he expected someone to walk in any second.
Ranveer snapped this time, his voice harsh but trembling beneath the surface.
"Enough, Shivansh! Lie down. You're bleeding under those stitches, do you even realize? Where are you trying to go?"
A shudder swept across the room. His mother's knees almost gave way; his uncle caught her before she fell. Everyone exchanged horrified looks—confusion, disbelief, fear.
Shivansh's mind screamed No… no, not now, not here!
This wasn't the way it was supposed to come out. First I will confirm everything then I will tell anyone.
"Shivansh!" his father's voice thundered for the first time, but even that didn't reach him.
Ranveer lunged forward, pressing both palms firmly on his shoulders. "Enough! Lie down!" His usual calm had cracked into sharp authority.
But Shivansh's answer only deepened the storm.
"To her! To her! She's not gone—she's in Italy! She… she needs me…"
"Who?" Ranveer snapped, his grip unrelenting. "Who the hell are you talking about? You're half-broken, Shivansh! You can't even stand! Where do you think you're going?"
The room was in chaos — his mother sobbing, his grandmother begging softly, his father trying to steady the IV line before it tore out completely, Aviyansh frozen in disbelief.
The room had turned into a whirlpool of tension. Shivansh's breathing grew ragged, his chest rising and falling like a storm trapped in a fragile body. The monitor attached to his side beeped in irregular intervals, flashing red lines that only heightened everyone's panic. His face was pale, eyes darting around, searching for something—someone—that wasn't there.
"Isha… Isha is waiting… she's waiting for me," his voice cracked, hoarse, desperate, the words escaping between shallow breaths. His uninjured hand clawed at the sheets, trying to find leverage to push himself up. But his leg, strapped with heavy bandages and metal supports, betrayed him. He groaned in pain, half-falling back but refusing to stay still.
"Stop, beta, stop!" his grandmother pleaded, hands trembling as she held the edge of his bed. "You'll hurt yourself even more!"
But Shivansh wasn't listening. His eyes burned with stubbornness and a kind of childlike desperation. "She doesn't know that I know she is alive… she thinks I left her… I have to go! She must be… she must be crying… she's waiting for me!" His words turned into broken sobs as he tugged weakly against the IV line taped to his wrist.
Ranveer finally snapped, his voice echoing in the room like a whip:
"Shivansh! Enough! Lie down!" His tone carried authority, but even he couldn't hide the wobble in his throat. He gripped Shivansh's shoulders firmly, pressing him against the pillow. "You're already half-broken, damn it! Where do you think you'll go in this state?!"
Before anyone could respond, the door burst open. Dr. Mehra, the orthopedic consultant, entered with a nurse following close behind, panic written all over their faces. a man usually calm and collected, immediately stepped forward. "What's happening here?!" His sharp tone filled the air.
Dr. Mehra rushed to his side, his eyes scanning the machines and the lines running from Shivansh's body.
His mother, wiping her own tears, quickly answered, "He's panicking… he's not listening… he's trying to get up!"
He took one look at the chaos—the patient thrashing, IV nearly ripped, family on the verge of hysteria—and barked,
"Everyone out. OUT! He's not stable."
"No!" Shivansh shouted hoarsely, gripping Ranveer's shirt with trembling fingers. His eyes were wild. "Don't take them—don't take me away! She's alive—I swear—let me go, let me see her—"
Ranveer grabbed his wrist, locking eyes with him, whispering fiercely, "Who? Who are you talking about? Tell me first—just me…"
But the doctor had already signaled the nurse. The nurse quickly drew a syringe, filled it with a milky sedative.
Ranveer's eyes widened. "Wait, what's that?"
"Midazolam. He'll harm himself like this," Dr. Mehra replied briskly. "We can't risk internal bleeding or further damage. He needs to be calm."
"No—no, stop—" Shivansh thrashed harder, panic twisting into terror. "Don't… don't put me to sleep… I need to… tell… she's—"
The nurse pushed the injection into the IV line before shivansh could react.
But Shivansh kept shaking his head, his breath ragged. "No… I can't… she's alone… she's—" His words stumbled, his voice breaking into sobs.
Shivansh's hand, still gripping Ranveer's shirt, trembled as though all the strength he had left was pouring into this one plea. "Please… don't stop me. I have to go. To Isha."
Dr. Mehra gave the nurse a firm nod. "Do it. He won't stop otherwise."
The nurse carefully inserted the needle into the IV line. Shivansh flinched, his eyes widening in betrayal. "No—please, no! Don't—don't shut me down! She's waiting, I swear she's waiting!"
The effect was almost immediate. His words slowed, his body trembled, and his eyelids began to fall heavy.
"…she's… she's… wait… for me…"
The last syllable hung like a broken thread in the air. Then silence.
Slowly, the sedative began to take effect. Shivansh's thrashing softened, his arms falling heavy against the sheets. His lips still moved, whispering fragments of her name. " she's waiting… she'll be angry… don't… let her cry…"
His voice grew weaker with each breath until finally, his eyelids fluttered closed. The tension in his body melted away, leaving him limp, fragile, like a child finally falling asleep after a tantrum.
Everyone in the room froze, staring at his peaceful face with tears in their eyes. The beeping of the monitor steadied, filling the silence with its rhythmic pulse.
Ranveer slowly loosened his hold, his own hands trembling. He wiped his eyes quickly before anyone noticed, though everyone had already seen. His choti maa pressed her palm over her mouth, stifling a sob, while his chote papa placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
The nurse adjusted the drip, checked the monitors, and nodded softly. "He'll be asleep for a few hours. His body needs the rest more than anything else. Stay calm—he's safe now."
When she left, the family gathered closer around the bed, each one silently broken in their own way. His mother reached forward, gently brushing the damp strands of hair from his forehead, her touch lingering as though she feared he'd vanish if she let go. His father, usually stoic, sat on the edge of the bed and whispered under his breath, "My son… why do you carry such pain alone?"
Ranveer pulled a chair beside him again, sitting down heavily. He stared at Shivansh's sleeping form, his jaw tight, eyes red but unwavering. "Sleep now, brother," he whispered. "Because when you wake up, we'll be here. And maybe… maybe she will be too."
The room fell into silence again, filled only with the soft breaths of Shivansh's fragile sleep and the quiet tears of his family, who finally understood the depth of his heart.
Ranveer's heart clenched as he watched Shivansh sink into unconsciousness, his grip loosening, his lips parting but no sound escaping.
The cabin was heavy with silence after Shivansh's sudden outburst. His words still echoed in everyone's minds—
"she is waiting for me… she must be asking why I am not coming… she is alive… she is in Italy… I need to see her."
Every single person froze. Ranveer, who had just calmed him down, was standing with his hand still on Shivansh's shoulder, his jaw clenched. His mother's trembling hand covered her mouth, while his father sat down on the chair, completely shocked, as if the ground beneath him had been pulled away.
The family erupted.
"Who is she?" his mother shouted.
"What does he mean alive?" his choti maa demanded.
"Ranveer, answer us! You know something!"
Ranveer stood frozen, staring at Shivansh's now motionless body. His thoughts thundered—She? Alive? Italy? Maybe Isha?
No no no it can't happen..
He turned to the doctor, voice sharp: "How long will he be under?"
Dr. Mehra adjusted his glasses. "A few hours. When he wakes, he won't remember this episode clearly. The sedative is strong—it may even cause partial amnesia of the last thirty minutes."
Ranveer's eyes narrowed. Amnesia. That single word echoed in his skull like a curse.
The family pressed closer, demanding answers. Ranveer inhaled deeply, his expression suddenly guarded.
"He was delirious. He doesn't know what he's saying. Head injury, sedatives—it's confusion. Don't take his words seriously."
But inside, Ranveer's hands trembled. Because he knew. He knew those words weren't empty hallucinations. They were too sharp. Too desperate. Too real.
And now, only he had caught the truth buried beneath them.
The room was finally dim, only the soft hum of the ECG and the faint drip of the IV breaking the silence. Shivansh lay on the hospital bed, his head turned slightly, his face pale beneath the harsh fluorescent light. His words still hung in the air—"She's alive… she's waiting for me…"—leaving the family restless, shaken, but too fragile to press further.
Ranveer placed a steadying hand on the side rail of the bed and looked around at the anxious faces gathered there. His voice was firm, low, but calm enough to soothe:
Ranveer: "Alright. Enough for now. Shivansh needs rest. You all need it too. He doesn't have to answer any questions now. If he needs anything, I'll be here. You don't have to think about anything. Go and rest."
For a moment, no one moved. His words seemed logical, but unease lingered.
Grandmother (softly, almost in a whisper): "But… what did he mean? Who was he speaking about? Who is alive? Who is waiting?"
Ranveer (gently but firm): "Maybe it's nothing more than the injury. You all know he hit his head badly. His mind could be confused, mixing the past with the present. We shouldn't take every word literally."
Still, doubt lingered in everyone's eyes. His mother held her dupatta tightly against her chest, tears glistening.
Mother (hesitant): "He looked so certain, Ranveer… not like a man dreaming. It felt… real."
Ranveer stepped closer to her, lowering his voice to a reassuring tone:
Ranveer: "Choti maa, please. He's injured. He's fragile. Right now, pressing him with questions will only make things worse. Trust me—let him rest. Tomorrow, we'll know more."
Slowly, with reluctance, the family began to leave. Some threw uncertain glances back at Shivansh, others whispered between themselves about his words. Still, Ranveer's authority kept them moving toward the door, one by one.
At last, the room emptied—except for Aarya.
He hadn't spoken the entire time. He lingered in the far corner, his eyes sharp, studying both Shivansh and Ranveer.
Ranveer noticed and closed the door softly behind the departing family before turning back.
He leaned against the edge of the bed, folded his arms, and spoke low, his tone shifting from calm caretaker to sharp strategist.
Ranveer: "You've been quiet all this time, Aarya. What's going on in that mind of yours?"
Aarya stepped forward, his jaw tense.
Arya: "I was listening. And I don't believe for a second this was just head trauma. Shivansh wasn't rambling—he was… calling out. Like he was certain someone was alive. Someone he needed to reach."
Ranveer's gaze hardened, but he didn't deny it. Instead, he straightened and walked closer, lowering his voice.
Ranveer: "That's exactly why I need you. Listen carefully. While the family rests, you dig. I want the entire report of that accident. Every angle. Every possibility. I want to know—was it just fate, or did someone plan it?"
Arya narrowed his eyes.
Arya: "You think someone wanted him dead?"
Ranveer's lips curved in a grim line.
Ranveer: "A man like Shivansh doesn't get accidents. He gets enemies. And enemies don't play fair."
Arya exhaled, nodding, but his tone was sharp.
Arya: "And what about what he said? 'She is alive.' Who is she, sir? You looked calm in front of everyone, but I know you—you caught onto those words."
For a moment, Ranveer's mask slipped. His eyes flickered toward Shivansh, still unconscious, chest rising and falling.
Ranveer (quiet, controlled): "I heard them. I don't ignore anything. But until I'm sure… I won't let anyone know. Not the family, not even you—unless I have proof."
Arya clenched his fists.
Arya: "You don't trust me?"
Ranveer (measured): "I trust you with my life, Arya. That's why I'm sending you. But words like these—they can destroy a family if they're false hope. Do you understand? We can't let anyone cling to illusions."
The tension hung heavy. Arya paced, his shoes clicking on the sterile hospital floor, before stopping.
Arya: "Fine. I'll find out everything. About the accident. About who was there. If it was rivals. If it was set up. I'll find the truth. But if Shivansh is right… if she is alive…"
He left the sentence hanging. Ranveer's expression turned unreadable.
Ranveer: "Then the world will turn upside down. But until then—we act as if she's not."
Arya gave one last look at Shivansh, then turned sharply and left the room.
Ranveer stood alone now, the monitor beeping steadily in the quiet. He approached Shivansh's bedside, his hand brushing the cold metal rail.
Ranveer (murmuring to himself): "What did you see, Shivansh? Who were you reaching for…?"
The silence gave no answer, only the steady rhythm of the machine. Ranveer's eyes darkened with suspicion, calculation, and something else—a trace of fear.
The hospital corridor was dim and unusually silent, save for the faint beeping of machines inside Shivansh's ward. Ranveer sat on the leather chair outside, his hands folded tightly against his knees, his eyes fixed on the floor tiles as if answers might appear there. His mind kept circling around the last few hours—Shivansh's broken words, the strange half-sentences about "someone waiting," the accident, and that mysterious file which had been forcefully closed before anyone could know the truth.
Inside, the monitors gave a steady rhythm, reminding them that Shivansh was alive, but his silence was almost unbearable. The rest of the family had finally gone to rest, leaving Ranveer alone with his thoughts, who remained standing at the corner like a shadow, his arms crossed and his gaze sharp.
Ranveer inhaled deeply, trying to steady his mind when his phone buzzed suddenly. The screen lit up: Ragnar shivansh PA?
Ranveer frowned. Why now? He picked up quickly, lowering his tone so as not to disturb the faint quietness of the ward.
Ranveer (whispering): "Raghav?"
On the other end, Raghav's voice cracked with tension, heavy breathing betraying his unease.
Abhinav: "Sir… finally. I've been trying to call you again and again. You weren't answering. Where are you? I need to talk. It's urgent."
Ranveer stood and walked a few steps down the corridor, away from the door.
Ranveer: "I'm at the hospital. Shivansh met with an accident. He's stable now… but unconscious. Why were you calling so desperately?"
There was a pause, as though Raghav was hesitant to reveal what weighed on him. Then, in a rush, he said it.
Abhinav: "Sir, Shivanh sir, he was supposed to come to Italy. After I call him to tell him that I saw Isha mam here, in front of our company but he had and accident how sir? ."
Ranveer froze mid-step, his grip tightening on the phone. His heart skipped. Her? Isha?
Ranveer (cautiously): "What are you talking about, raghav? Who exactly?"
Abhinav (voice low, hurried): "Sir, I know it sounds impossible, but… I've been tracking her records here in Italy. Just yesterday, she came in front of our company, I saw her from my cabin. I double-checked with the CCTV with her photo—it matches. Mam is alive, sir. She's alive."
Ranveer stopped walking, his entire body stiffening. His breath caught in his throat.
Ranveer (sharply, whispering): "Do you even understand what you're saying, raghav? That girl… everyone believes she died. Are you telling me Shivansh knew?"
Abhinav: "Yes, sir. That's why he was coming here. He confirmed and said, 'Make arrangements. I'll be there soon. Don't tell anyone yet.' And then… nothing. Since then, he hasn't answered. I kept calling. Hours passed. I was panicking. That's why I'm calling you now. I had to confirm. But now I got to know he had an accident."
Ranveer leaned his back against the wall, running a hand over his face. His mind was reeling, colliding with pieces of the puzzle he hadn't dared to connect. So Shivansh knew. He knew Isha was alive. He was going to meet her. But then—this accident. Was it just an accident, or was it connected?
Ranveer (lowering his voice, firm): "Raghav. Listen to me very carefully. Do not—I repeat, do not tell anyone about this. Not in the family, not among the staff, no one. As far as they're concerned, Shivansh's accident is just that—an accident. Nothing more."
Raghav (hesitant): "But sir—if Isha mam is alive, doesn't his family deserve to know? They've mourned her for years. They believed she…"
Ranveer (cutting him off, harsh but controlled): "No. Not now. This information could break them, confuse them, maybe even put Isha in danger if the wrong people find out. Shivansh kept it hidden for a reason. Until we know the whole truth, this stays between us. Do you understand me?"
There was a long silence before Raghav answered, his voice subdued.
Raghav: "…Yes, sir. I understand."
Ranveer: "Good. Now here's what you're going to do. Stay in Italy. Keep your eyes open. Collect every shred of information about Isha—where she's staying, who she's meeting, why she's hiding. But do not approach her. Do not reveal anything. Just gather proof. I'll handle things here."
Raghav: "But sir… you'll be alone there. Don't you want me to fly back, to help with Shivansh sir?"
Ranveer (firmly): "No. Your place is there now. I need you to shadow her movements quietly. Shivansh's accident could be tied to this. If someone knew he was about to expose her survival, they might have wanted to stop him. We can't risk losing her again—or letting the wrong people find her before us."
Raghav exhaled shakily.
Raghav: "Alright, sir. I'll stay here. I'll update you daily. But, Ranveer sir…"—his voice cracked—"…this means Isha mam really is alive. After all these years… alive."
Ranveer closed his eyes, the weight of the revelation pressing heavily on his chest.
Ranveer (softly, almost to himself): "Alive… and Shivansh knew. God, what have we stumbled into?"
He ended the call slowly, holding the phone in his hand, staring at the black screen. His mind was in chaos. A secret buried so deeply had resurfaced, and now it lay in his lap to protect it.
Ranveer shook his head, trying to mask the storm inside him.
Ranveer returned to the chair outside Shivansh's ward, but he didn't sit. Instead, he looked at the door, at the unconscious man inside, and whispered under his breath—
Ranveer: "What were you planning, Shivansh? Who were you really protecting? And why did fate stop you right before the truth?"
The corridor remained silent, but the storm had begun. Ranveer knew it. The truth was alive—literally—and hiding in Italy.
And now, everything had changed.
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