She doesn't say anything when he walks in, Vogel and Beck in front of him. Just watches him grin when he pops his faceplate, concealing a barely noticable wince.

"I know you guys missed me, but don't get too excited. Not all at once!" he says, and Martinez is the first to step closer and slap Mark on the back. Another wince. Beck catches it this time and is on Mark immediately. "Broken rib," he speculates. "Could be worse—could have been scrambled eggs."

"Regardless," Beck says, already guiding Mark in that direction, "let's get you to medical."

He doesn't say anything to her, either, but his smile brightens when he's marched passed her.

Hannah doesn't get to see him for another several hours. Johanssen tells her Beck is fixing him up in his quarters, which she already knew, but she didn't think it would take so long.

His voice startles her. It's been a long time since she's heard it. For a while, she didn't think she'd ever hear it again. For a second, she thinks she had imagined it.

"Dr. Bossy-Beck made me wait a really long time to do a lot of boring procedures," Mark explains, leaning against the door to Hannah's quarters. "Then I went to high-five everybody and they all told me to shower because apparently I smell like shit. The only person left to talk to is you."

"Don't sound so thrilled," she mumbles, sitting up on her cot. He sits down next to her, this time with no pain—wow, drugs!—and watches her eyes rove over his slighter frame.

"Mars doesn't exactly have the best meal plan," he says, smiling again. She wonders how—after everything he's been through—he can still light up like that. "Anyway, turns out I broke two ribs. The best news about that is that I get Vicodin now."

They are both silent for a while, and Hannah realizes—as she steals a glance at him—that he is probably used to not talking. She wants to say something about how she thought he was dead, about the thought of never hearing him laugh again, about the thought of going home without him. Instead, Hannah asks how he feels about still not returning to earth for more than half a year after this.

"At least I'm not on that shithole planet anymore" is Mark's reponse. His head tilts and he closes his eyes. "I think I'm starting to feel the Vicodin, Hannah."

It is in that moment—when he says her name, something normally so arbitrary—in which a spark erupts in her chest. "You should sleep." Mark nods and tries to get up, mumbling about the large dosage Beck gave him. "You can sleep here, if you want," she suggests. "I'm sure Lewis will let me bunk with her for the night—"

"No, I can't take your bed," he interrupts, but he slides sideways, bumping into her shoulder.

"Yes, you can." Hannah manuveurs around Mark, pushing him until he's lying flat on his back. "You've just spent a year and a half on Mars; you can take my bed for the night."

His eyes open briefly, half-lidded with exhaustion, and Hannah is just about to leave the room when he mumbles something. "What?"

A sleepy sigh escapes his lips and he says, "I missed you, Han."

"I missed you, too, Mark."