A/N: Yay, I got a review! Thank you, kind person!

I'm debating on updating the next chapter in a few days. I know it can be hard to get into a story after only a chapter or two, and with the updates so spread out. I'm almost finished writing this story, but I like to have a good buffer so I can update steadily while I work on the next chapters...otherwise, I stress, panic, and abandon the story. Let me know if you guys would like a second update this week and I hope you enjoy this chapter!


Chapter 2:

White lights were the first thing WuFei noticed when he peeled his eyes open. His first thought was death. Such a tragic end would be a welcome relief from the pain-filled misery that was his life.

Then blinding white walls, scratchy bed sheets, and rays of sunlight streaming through prison cell sized windows registered in WuFei's peripheral and drew a deep throaty groan from his lips. Sadly, he realized, he wasn't dead. He was in a hospital and, judging by the feathery feeling in his limbs and behind his eyes, heavily drugged.

Like all the other Gundam pilots, he had a natural aversion to hospitals. Waking up in one during the war meant capture, torture, termination, and, worst of all, a failure to complete the mission. It took a moment for him to calm his nerves and remind himself the war was over.

Vaguely, WuFei recalled the car crash, a mad scramble for control before slamming into the thick trunk of a street light, blacking out and nothing more. He wore one of the loose fitted gowns hospitals were famous for and he could feel tightly wound bandages around his midsection, his left leg, and arms. There was a feeling of puffiness on the right side of his lower jaw as well. He wondered how bad a mess he looked as willowy strands of black hair flitted around his face.

He sensed more than heard the incessant beeping of the heart monitor with its burrowing wire connected to his chest and felt his hand up to vehemently rip it away, sending out a scream from the vile little machine. He tugged out the IV drip as well, and various other wires that were attached to miscellaneous machines monitoring unknown vital signs. It wasn't until he started attempting to sit up, however, when the nurse rushed in, worry streaking her soft features. She put a hand on his shoulder to push him back down but it wasn't necessary as black clouded his vision and he sank heavy into the cot once more. When his eyes cleared again, the woman, blonde and petite, was fiddling with the machines, the heart monitor's screeching had stopped.

"It's alright, Mister Chang," she soothed, "You're alright."

Before he could reply however, the door opened again and another woman slipped into the room. A lump caught in WuFei's throat. She was tall and stately with light brown hair and hard blue eyes, and commanded respect simply with her presence. He hadn't seen Sally Po in a year and a half, the day he left the Preventers. The surprise at her being his attending physician was enough to subdue him.

At the sight of the doctor, the nurse excused herself and left the room. In a few strides Sally was at WuFei's side, manually checking vitals.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, pressing two fingers to his wrist, eyes fixed on her watch.

"Fine," he snarled response, squirming as she checked his bandages. She quirked her brow.

"Really?"

"No. Why are you here?" he demanded. She plucked a clipboard from the side of his bed, glanced over it, lifted the paper and skimmed whatever was underneath. She took a pen from her white lab coat pocket and wrote something down.

The closest hospital to the area WuFei crashed was St. Clarence; he most likely would have been taken there. Sally Po worked at Rosenthal, a Preventers clinic, in the city of Danover nearly seventy-five miles away. At least, that's where she'd worked when he last spoke to her.

Sally held up her hand in a 'V' gesture, "How many fingers?"

"Two. You didn't answer my question."

Pocketing the pen, she pulled a slender black object from her pocket and shined light into each of WuFei's eyes. Putting it away, she retrieved her pen and wrote something else down. Finally, she replaced the clipboard at the end of his bed, and sighed.

"Everything seems to be in working order," she said, more to herself than to him. She smiled warmly his direction, "That was a nasty spill you took on your bike, Chang, hit your head on the pavement pretty hard. The past day has been hell."

"Great. Now answer my question. Why are you here?" Even as the words fell out of WuFei's mouth, Sally's sank in.

nasty spill on your bike.

Although WuFei knew for a fact he had crashed in a car it didn't change that he hadn't ridden a bike in well over a year.

The employers at Hinkley & Deluth put up with WuFei roaring into the office on a motorcycle, like a "common street punk" as they put it, for a few weeks before politely explaining to him that the company had a professional appearance they wanted to keep and advised him to purchase a more conservative vehicle. Thus, the sports car. As he rarely traveled anywhere but work and was a decidedly practical person, he sold his old motorbike.

WuFei chose to ignore the strange mistake. Late nights in the ER were probably starting to wear on the doctor.

"I work here," Sally responded, a puzzled expression lighting her face.

WuFei scrunched his brow, and then relaxed. It had been a year and half since last they'd spoken. Logically, she left the Preventers and transferred. He didn't doubt the pay at St. Clarence was far heftier.

Still he stated, "I thought you worked at Rosenthal."

"I do," she said slowly, a slight smile doing little to hide her evident concern, "But you know that I volunteer at Harrisburg Medical every week. By the way, you're lucky I was here last night; they wanted to transfer you to Rosenthal. Keeping you here meant no report, which ought to keep Une out of your hair for a few days, give you time to recover and report in on your own time. I figure you owe me one now."

WuFei stared at Sally as though she had two heads. He couldn't recall ever knowing that Sally volunteered at Harrisburg. Furthermore, he couldn't understand how he had come to be at Harrisburg or why they would want to transfer him to Rosenthal when he hadn't even been in the same city as either hospital. He didn't even want to bother wondering what possible reason Une would care about his being in an accident. Sally shifted uncomfortably.

"WuFei…are you sure you're alright?"

"I don't…" he murmured before clearing his throat, and tersely questioning, "Why am I here?"

Sally furrowed her brow, letting her worry show. She calmly explained, "WuFei, you were in an accident…"

"I'm aware of that," WuFei snapped, "But why am I at Harrisburg Medical? Why am I not in St. Clarence?"

"St. Clarence? As in…Saint Josephine Clarence Hospital and Research Laboratory?" Sally cut in with surprise, "St. Clarence is all the way in Bergonia! Why would you be there?"

"Because I live in Bergonia and up until I crashed my car into a light pole I was in Bergonia!"

For a long time, they both stared at one another. Sally's expression was blank; WuFei wore a glare that would send a weaker person cowering in fear. Sally looked away first, running a quivering hand over her face, and closing her eyes, taking a deep, shaky breath. She stood, walked to a window looking out at the hallway, turned and came back towards him, sitting in the chair beside his bed.

The next hour or so, Sally asked WuFei questions.

She started simple, asking him to state his name, his birth date, where he was born. The questions turned to the war, asking him about his Gundam, to describe his role in various battles and certain details of historical events.

Then she focused on more recent happenings. She asked him the date first and when he answered she looked momentarily stunned but continued without comment.

The more questions she asked the more concerned she looked and the more frustrated WuFei became. He understood that the accident may have resulted in a head injury and that tedious questions like those she was asking would be expected, but the look she wore and the more personal her questions became were wearing thin.

"Where do you work?"

"Hinkley&Deluth."

"How long have you worked there?"

"Almost two years."

"And what do you do there?"

"I work in accounting."

"Where do you live?"

"Grenadier Tower in Bergonia."

Sally paused there, lowered her eyes and chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully, she asked, "And do you live with anyone there?"

"No. What does this have to do with anything?"

Seeming to steel herself, Sally finally asked, "Tell me about the accident. How did it happen?"

WuFei closed his eyes, tightening his jaw and thinking back. When he answered, his voice was a low growl, "I was driving home from the company Christmas party, and it was not snowing. I'd had a conversation with some prick coworker – don't even know his name or what department he works in – but he had irritated me so I suppose I wasn't paying much attention to the road because I didn't notice the patch of ice. My car slipped and crashed into a street light."

"I see," Sally murmured.

WuFei attempted to sit up again but as that only made his head spin, he glared at her as effectively as he could from the cot and snarled, "What is all of this about, Po? I don't see you in almost two years and suddenly you show up in my hospital room telling me I'm not where I'm supposed to be and asking me idiotic questions? What the hell is going on?"

Sally pursed her lips, making them thin and edged white. She had her hands clenched in her lap and she looked to them, her expression forlorn. She was at a loss for words. She stood, walked to the door, paused, hand on doorknob, looking to her patient.

"I'm sorry. I can't answer your questions…yet. I'm going to have to consult with some colleagues," she told him, "In the meantime, try to get some rest and I'll be back soon."

Without waiting for a response she was gone, the door clicking shut behind her. WuFei stared hard at where she had stood before settling into his pillow and glaring at the ceiling.

"What is going on?" he demanded of the empty room. He hadn't realized how tired he was when his eyes slipped shut and he fell into a dreamless sleep.