In the infirmary...
[It's been a few days since his traumatic 'escape' from Evil Fear, if it can be called that. At least he's regained some use of his fingers, enough to use the radio that Vespa gave him. Part of him wants to call the people he knows, let them know he's alright- at least the one or two he has the frequency for. He's recovering, but still in a bad way. At least he can talk now. The pain is much, much less, dulled by painkillers and gradual acceptance. Still, it's boring here. He's been having trouble sleeping, plagued by nightmares, and the loss of his eye is depressing him even more. He's not his usual sunny self right now. Ivan really wishes he'd been smart enough to stay tied up instead of trusting Ocelot. He wouldn't have changed a thing if he'd gone back, however. If Fear had done to Ocelot what he did to him...]