Dr. Matthews agrees a low dose of diuretic and increased stool softeners are appropriate at this point in his recovery. Regarding her other concerns, he listens thoughtfully.
"You're right to worry about his emotional and psychological state," he says. "While his physical condition improves remarkably, the trauma of what he's endured may haunt him for some time. Amnesia, nightmares, feelings of fear and isolation - these are normal in such situations, but will require support and care."
He sighs, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Honestly, the best approach is often simply listening without judgment, providing reassurance, and helping the patient feel safe. You seem to have a connection with him that has aided his recovery so far. If you feel able, continue communicating with him, try to draw him out about his feelings and experiences in a gentle way. Let him know you only wish to understand and help. It may take time, but sharing the burden can be the first step to healing."
Marian nods, though the thought of prying into her patient's emotional wounds fills her with trepidation. Still, Dr. Matthews is right - avoiding the issue will not make those wounds heal. She has vowed to aid this young man's recovery in every way she can. If he will allow her to share even a small part of his inner turmoil, it may help lift the shadows from his eyes.
When she checks on Lionstar a bit later, she takes a seat by his bedside with a reassuring smile. His gaze meets hers, wary yet hopeful, and she summons her courage to broach the subject with care.
:Your body is healing well,: she says, :but I've noticed you seem troubled at times, distressed by memories or nightmares. I want you to know I'm here if you ever want to talk about it. Sharing fears or painful experiences can help lift their burden.:
He looks away, hesitating, and she worries she's overstepped. But after a long moment, his eyes return to hers, filled with a grief and fear that make her heart ache.
:The nightmares are of loss,: he says softly. :So much loss. And the memories...some I wish I could forget.:
Her throat tightens at his words, but she nods in understanding, giving his hand a comforting squeeze. :When you're ready, I'm here to listen,: she says. :You don't have to go through this alone.:

...Lionstar isn't entirely sure why he admitted to that – except that it seems like Marian had already noticed that he isn't incredibly okay right now, and so there's no point in trying to hide it.

He spends a long time laying back silently, torn over whether to admit any more to the young not-Healer who's been with him for the last many days. 

...He trusts her, he thinks, as much as he can trust anyone in this strange and alien place. Her thoughts are full of nothing but earnest concern for him. It's still - not safe to have many people know the truth about his life - but he thinks that if she makes a promise to him, she won't break it. 

He opens his eyes, focuses intently on Marian's face. His expression is tense, but not frightened. 

:I want to ask you for something: he sends. :I - would like your promise that you will not share with anyone else what I am about to say. Is that something you can agree to?: 

Marian hesitates at his request, unsure of what he may reveal that demands such secrecy. But she sees the desperate need for trust in his eyes, and knows she cannot refuse him.
:You have my word,: she says. :Anything you share will be kept in confidence.:
He searches her eyes a long moment, as if judging her sincerity. Then he takes a breath, seeming to steel himself before continuing.
:My name...is not what you call me here,: he says. :It is Lionstar k'Leshya. I am...not from this place. The world I knew is gone - destroyed in a great war. I used magic to escape, but became trapped in an in-between place. I don't know how I came to be here...but I know I can never return home.:
His words spill out in a rush, as if afraid he'll lose courage to continue. Marian sits stunned by his revelations, struggling to make sense of a tale that seems implausible yet rings with truth. His expression is pained but earnest - and his eyes hold a grief beyond imagining.
:You believe I'm delusional,: he says, mistaking her silence. :I should not have told you. Forget I said anything.:
:No,: she says quickly. :I promised to listen without judgment. Your story is...difficult to grasp, yet I sense you are being honest. I believe you have endured a great ordeal, and come from a place far beyond my understanding.:
He searches her eyes again, tension slowly easing from his face. :Truly?:
She nods. :Truly. You have trusted me with your truth, and I will keep your confidence as promised. What matters now is that you are here...and safe. The past cannot be changed, but in time, new purpose and meaning can be found.:
Lionstar releases a long breath, seeming to sag against the bed in relief and exhaustion. :Thank you,: he whispers. :For listening, and understanding.:
Marian gives his hand a comforting squeeze. His story defies belief, yet in her heart, she knows Lionstar speaks truth. Wherever he came from, whatever brought him here, he has found trust and solace. For now, it is enough.

Unsurprisingly, "Lionstar k'Leshya" is worn out after the emotional conversation, and falls asleep within a couple of minutes. 

Marian sits by his bedside, watching his steady breathing, and worries about him. It's now nearly 6:30 pm; in just half an hour, she has to hand off to the night nurse and go home. And she's not scheduled to work tomorrow, though she might end up calling in and offering to do overtime for a fifth shift. She hates the thought of leaving Lionstar alone here with a nurse he doesn't know or trust yet. 

She can't reveal what she said. She's a mandated reporter, and proooooobably should have admitted to him that if anything he said convinced her that he was a danger to himself or others, she would have to tell someone. She hesitated because it seemed so clear that he needed to talk to someone, and she didn't want to spook him into shutting her out again. 

She believes what he said, though she's still unclear on exactly what happened. She - doesn't think that any of the mandated reporting rules apply here? He's obviously grieving and upset about - whatever happened to his world - but she doesn't think he's suicidal about it. If anything, he must have been impressively determined to survive. And - while she definitely suspects that he's not telling her everything, and wonders if he was more directly involved in this destructive war then he's explicitly admitting to, she doesn't think that makes him a threat to her, or to any of the staff here. He's been nothing but cooperative with them. 

So she can't tell the night nurse, or put anything down in his chart about his horrifying past. It's up to Lionstar whether he decides he's comfortable speaking of it with anyone else. (Marian was earlier really wishing that Dr Matthews had gone ahead and ordered a psych consult, rather than expecting her to handle it, but she's glad now that she was the one to talk to him. He seems to take a long time to get comfortable with people, and - no wonder, if that's what he's been through.) 

She documents all the other observations in the chart, writing down clearly that he has nightmares and seems distressed and frequently scared. (There's also a very long note from the neurologist about his 'telepathy', with some recommendations for ongoing neuro assessments.) 

At shift change, Lionstar is still deeply asleep, peaceful for once. Marian feels bad about leaving him without saying goodbye, especially when she's not sure if management will agree that she can come in tomorrow and be paid overtime for it, but she really doesn't want to shake him awake when he needs his rest so badly. 

She'll sit down with the night nurse to give a report on the day's progress. It's been a very eventful day. 

The night nurse, Clara, listens attentively as Marian provides report. She goes over Lionstar's improved condition, decreased oxygen needs and successful extubation, as well as the increase in diuretic and stool softeners. His vital signs have remained stable, and he continues to be compliant with treatments.
When it comes to his emotional state, however, Marian hesitates. She cannot reveal details of their conversation, but Clara should be aware of his ongoing distress.
"He continues to experience frequent nightmares and periods of fear or confusion," she says. "Reassurance and a calming presence seem to help settle him. Be sure to check on him regularly through the night, and speak in a gentle, compassionate tone. He's been through an ordeal we have yet to fully understand."
Clara nods, her expression thoughtful. "Poor thing. Don't worry, I'll keep a close eye on him and do my best to provide comfort. You've done well with this patient so far - I can see why you're concerned for his wellbeing."
Marian manages a smile, hoping she's made the right choice in what to share - and what to keep private. "Call me if there are any issues overnight," she says. "I may come in to assist if needed."
The drive home is filled with worry over leaving Lionstar in another's care. She had just gained his trust and confidence - will he come to feel as at ease with Clara and the other nurses? His recovery is still so fragile, in body and mind. She can only hope that with each small step forward, the shadows behind his eyes will lift, allowing his true self to shine through. The self that trusted her with a truth so improbable, yet pierced her heart with its sincerity.
For now she must have faith in her colleagues, and the work they have all undertaken to aid this mysterious young man. Home may be forever lost to him, but in time, she prays he will find solace here - and people in whom he can confide without fear of judgment. People, perhaps, not so very different from herself. Until then, she will return each day to walk beside him, sharing comfort, compassion, and silent understanding of a grief beyond words.

Lionstar is clearly worn out after the day's activities. He sleeps through until nearly 9 pm, and wakes groggily for Clara's evening assessment, blinking unhappily when she turns the lights on. He answers questions in Mindspeech when Clara thinks them at him - he remembers that he's in a Healing center in a place called 'Reno' in 'Nevada', and that he was injured when he arrived and had a breathing tube in for several days - but he seems reluctant to talk and eager to go back to sleep.

He does admit to some mild abdominal discomfort - despite the stool softeners, he still hasn't had a bowel movement and doesn't remember passing gas - and at around 11 pm he complains of nausea after Clara gives the hydromorphone down his feeding tube. There's a standing order for IV diphenhydramine in his chart, which does seem to help, but also conks him out for the next five hours. 

...At 4 am, his heart rate abruptly spikes to 160. Before Clara can make it to the room to respond to the monitor alarm, he wakes up with a panicked yell, groggily throwing a burst of magic at some dreamed-of enemy and instead accidentally setting his blankets on fire. 

Clara races into the room to find the blankets smoldering, her patient struggling against imagined foes. She hurries to extinguish the small flames before hitting the call light.
"Easy now, you're safe," she says, keeping her tone calm and even. "Just a nightmare. I've put out the fire, no harm done."
Lionstar gasps, eyes flying open as the haze of sleep and magic recedes. He stares in confusion at the charred blankets, then up at Clara in dismay. "I - I didn't mean - "
"Hush, it's all right," she soothes, resting a hand on his arm. His heart rate begins to slow as awareness returns, though fear still lingers in his eyes. "You were dreaming. No permanent damage, I promise."
Just then Dr. Matthews rushes in, alerted by the call light. He takes in the scene with raised brows, looking to Clara for an explanation. She relates the events calmly while checking Lionstar's vital signs, assuring the doctor his condition has stabilized.
Dr. Matthews turns to the patient, who avoids meeting his gaze in embarrassment. "You had us worried for a moment there. How are you feeling now?"
"I apologize," he says quietly. "The nightmare...I reacted without thinking. It won't happen again."
The doctor sighs, expression thoughtful. "Don't worry yourself over an accident. However...your abilities do present certain challenges in treatment we hadn't anticipated. Do you have full control of them, even in distress?"
Lionstar hesitates. "Usually...when awake. But in dreams or confusion, instinct may take over before I realize. I will be more vigilant - it is the only way to prevent another...incident."
Dr. Matthews nods. "Very well. Get some rest - we'll speak more on this in the morning." He turns to Clara with a wry smile. "And you wondered why I cautioned for 'unique precautions' with this one. Never a dull night, is it?"
She shakes her head with a soft chuckle. Lionstar's gifts have certainly kept them on their toes. But she cannot find it in herself to see him as a threat - only a lost soul struggling to find his way in a world not his own. Once the doctor leaves, she turns back to her patient with a reassuring pat on his arm.
"Pay the doctor's worries no mind," she says gently. "Gifts or no gifts, you're still just a man recovering from injury and distress. We're here to see you whole again as best we can."
The fear fades from Lionstar's eyes, replaced with something close to hope. "Thank you," he whispers. And this time, Clara knows for certain - his thanks encompasses far more than words alone.

Marian's sleep is troubled as well; she can't get her mind off Lionstar.

At 5:30 am, she finally gives up on sleeping, and gets up to make herself a coffee. She calls the ICU unit manager. "Uh, excuse me, it's about the patient in 110. John Doe, or, uh, it might've been changed to his real name by now, Lionstar. ...I just wanted to find out how he's doing. And, um, I - know him pretty well - I wouldn't mind coming in for an extra shift, as long as he's still needing ICU care..." 

She waits worriedly for an answer. 

The unit manager, Denise, sighs at the call. "You must have a sixth sense. There was an...incident with your patient early this morning. Minor fire caused by accidental magic use in response to a nightmare. It's been contained, no injuries, but as you can imagine it gave us all a scare."
Marian gasps, heart clenching at the thought of Lionstar distressed and lashing out without meaning to. "Is he all right? Please, let me come in - I may be able to help keep him calm."
"He's stable now, quite upset over the accident," Denise says. "Dr. Matthews wants to assess how to better control for unexpected outbursts, but your connection with this patient is undeniable. If you're offering to come in on overtime, I won't turn down the help. Especially given the...unique challenges of this case."
Marian breathes a sigh of relief. "Thank you. I'll be there as soon as I can."
The sun is just peeking over the horizon as she arrives at the hospital. Clara relays the morning's events, listening thoughtfully to Marian's concerns. Finally, she moves to wake the still-sleeping Lionstar.
His eyes blink open and widen at the sight of Marian. "You came back," he whispers.
"Of course I came," she says with a gentle smile, taking his hand in hers. "I heard you had a difficult night. How are you feeling?"
He looks away, ashamed. "I'm sorry for causing trouble. My control slipped...I never meant to endanger anyone."
"Hush. No permanent harm was done, and no one blames you," she soothes. "Nightmares and distress are only natural after what you've endured."
Lionstar shakes his head with a sigh. "Natural perhaps, but dangerous when magic is involved. Your healers now see me as a threat...they may want me gone as quickly as possible."
"Nonsense. Their goal is to aid your recovery, magic or no magic," Marian says firmly. "And I'll not leave your side again if that's what it takes to keep you calm. You've come too far to lose hope now."
He searches her eyes, finding only compassion. Slowly the tension eases from his face, and he nods. "Then I will focus on control. The past cannot be changed...but with patience and care, perhaps the future can still be what we make of it."
Marian smiles, giving his hand a proud squeeze. "Now that is the spirit I like to see. One day at a time, my friend - together we'll get through this."