White light beat down into my face like someone had turned on the sun three inches from my closed eyes. I did the only thing any sane person could do when waking up to that:

I rolled over and buried my face into the pillow.

That worked for about three seconds before the pain in my side forced me to shift my weight off it, and light blazed into my face again.

"Damn it," I snarled to myself and yanked my head up, looking blearily around. The beep-beep of the heart monitor sounded like a pair of drums, loud and fast.

Ken had risen to his feet next to Gabby's bed, his back to me as knelt over his friend. The door hissed open, and Doctor Chakwas hurried in, breathing heavily. I snatched at the glasses she had given me, jamming them on as the resentment of a petulant child bubbled in me.

Then the heart monitor let out a startling fast series of beeps, then squalled a single long tone. Even as bleary and half-asleep, I knew that sound. Hundreds of movies and tv episodes had conditioned me to recognize a heart that had stopped beating.

"She's crashing! Mr. Donnelly, move!"

Dr. Chakwas grabbed at Ken's shirt, yanking him out of the way, then darted to Gabby's side. Her hand slapped down on something on the bed, and a holographic image burst to life about a foot above Gabby's recumbent form, some kind of representation of what was going on inside the unconscious woman. Two spots of ominous scarlet light stood out on the hologram, and Chakwas let out a blistering oath the like I had only heard from former marines. She grabbed something off the tray on her right—a syringe of some kind—and jammed it into Gabby's chest. She emptied the contents and started CPR, her eyes locked on the hologram.

Ken Donnelly meanwhile, had frozen in place, transfixed with an expression of horror as the doctor worked frantically. His hand shook violently, like he might go into a seizure or some other fit any moment. He moved forward, his hand squeezing Gabby's.

I pushed myself up to a sitting position, unsure if I should stay or leave, memories of yesterday playing through me in a horrid parody of the scene three feet from me. Joker sat up at nearly the same time, and from the corner of my eye I could him trying drawing the same conclusions as we both looked on.

The door hissed open again, and Miranda bolted in, her hair a tangle of dark strands as she moved in on the other side of the bed. She traded off with Doctor Chakwas, giving the grey haired physician a moment to catch her breath. Chakwas looked over at Ken. "Mr. Donnelly, we need space to work.

The red haired engineer didn't even seem to hear her, his gaze frozen in place. Chakwas grabbed his hand, pulling his fingers free. "Mr. Donnelly! Move, please!"

I pushed myself out of bed and my feet hit the floor, the cold metal sending as zing through me that banished the last remnants of sleep. I caught Ken's good arm, and started to pull him bodily towards the door. He didn't fight at first, and only when we reached it did he actually start to struggle.

"Let go of me, god damn it! Let me go!" He sputtered, grabbing at the front of my shirt, trying to shove me back.

"They need room, and you don't need to see this," I snapped at him. I slammed my hand on the open controls for Medical, and tried to drag him from the room. Ken spat something in a language that sounded Gaelic, and dug his feet in, his eyes full of anger and fear. "You can't help her right now! Let them do their job!"

Joker's voice came from over my shoulder, tense and quiet. "Ken, he's right." He stepped up next to me, putting his good hand on Ken's shoulder in a halting motion.

Kenneth Donnelly turned murderous eyes on Joker for a moment, and then seemed to just deflate completely. I guided him out of the room, looking over my shoulder at Chakwas and Miranda as both reached for surgical gloves.

As the door closed on that scene, a wave of nausea and exhaustion hit me as my side thrummed with pain, like someone had strummed a guitar cord linked to it. Joker kept Ken moving, heading away from Medical and turning to go towards one of the ships lounges. I followed a few steps behind, keeping one hand on the wall to keep me steady.

The lounge was occupied when we got there. Kelly and Jenny were sitting at the corner of one couch, talking to each other. They both looked up, neither looking like they had actually slept at all. Kelly's eyes widened, and she rose to her feet. "What happened?"

I looked at Ken then back to her. Either Gabby's condition bothered me more than I thought, or the pain and exhaust had finally caught up to me, because when I did speak, I sounded flat. "Gabby's not doing well. Chakwas and Miranda were getting ready for surgery, I think."

Kelly's fair complexion lost even more color. "Oh, God." She hurried over to Ken's side, and took his hand, tugging him to a seat.

Which pretty much meant my job here was done for the moment, I decided. And I'd been in Ken's place before. To say it's not fun, is an understatement on a cosmic scale. I slid down on far end of Kelly's couch, and settled in to wait.

Hospital waits are the worst. They happen to pretty much everyone eventually, but that doesn't make them any more bearable. It's always a little too quiet, too cold. And everyone there is in the same boat you are in. This might have been a lounge on a starship hurtling at speeds faster than light could travel, but that really didn't change the fact that Gabby might be dying and there wasn't anything any of us could do about it now.

And when waiting to find out the verdict on if your friend or loved one is going to live or die, time seems to stretch on for hours, when only minutes have passed.

"Wibbly wobbly, timey-whimey," I mumbled as my eyelids slip shut again. For a second I can hear quiet conversation. I try and listen to the hushed conversation, but it's distant, indistinct, and I'm simply too tired. My eyelids drift shut for a moment and I listen to voices. After a moment they go silent, and my side starts to ache, a dull insistent throb.

I blinked my eyes open, shifting to take the pressure off and freeze as I look at the window.

Or is it a viewport? Hell if I know, but doesn't the flashy lights bit mean we are at going somewhere? FTL or something?

Halos of cobalt and violet blur together in a kaleidoscope just on the other side of the glass. The flashing colors played across the room, bathing everything in a myriad of pale lights. I pushed myself up, and looked around the room.

Joker and Ken were passed out on the couch across from me, one on each corner. Jenny had followed their example, and had curled up just about in Joker's lap, her mouth open as she slept. Kelly had fallen asleep on the same couch I had been on, though she hadn't laid down, just curled up on the far end, a blanket flopped onto the floor that she had probably had tucked around her.

I eased myself to my feet, and snagged the blanket from the floor as I straightened. Kelly didn't stir when I stood, but she shivered as I draped the blanket over her shoulders, ducking her face into the couch seat a bit more to get away from the light.

I slipped from the room without a sound. They were tired, and if I couldn't sleep at least I wouldn't wake them. As the door closed behind me, the light from the window vanished, leaving me in darkness while my eyes adjusted. It gave me a moment to think.

What am I doing here? People died. Hell, I almost died.

A voice in my head answered me. Where else would you go?

Anywhere but here. I'm not a soldier. I'm not a pilot.

And there isn't anywhere for you to go. Everyone you know is dead. Accept it, and figure out what you will do now. Mourn what you have lost, but don't let it cripple you.

Whispered voices echoed down the hall from me, ending my internal debate. I blinked and headed toward them. I didn't know what time it was, but maybe one of them would know what had happened with Gabby.

As I got closer, the voices resolved themselves into Dr. Chakwas and Miranda Lawson, seated at the mess table. Both of them looked haggard, and Chakwas had her hands wrapped around a mug of something steaming. I caught a faint whiff of coffee and started salivating. When was the last time I had coffee?

Technically nearly 200 years go or whatever. Damn.

Miranda noticed me first, her mouth twisting down into a small frown. "Should you be up and walking around? Ms. Chambers said you were asleep in the lounge."

Dr. Chakwas turned to look at me as I answered, "I was. Whatever you gave me for the pain wasn't enough to keep me under when I rolled over on my side." I looked over at the still lit Medical Bay. "How's Gabby?"

Chakwas pulled her mug closer. "Stable for now. We got the internal bleeding stopped, but we'll need to give her another transfusion in a hour or so. Mordin's sitting with her now, monitoring to make sure we didn't miss something else."

A little part of me that I didn't realize I had been holding tense, relaxed. I leaned on one of the chairs and let my eyes close as relief washed over me. "Good. I … just good."

"Very good," agreed Chakwas as she took a drink. "We'll know a bit more in the morning, but I think she'll pull through."

Miranda meanwhile had been watching me, blue eyes fixed on my face. She leaned onto the table, resting her chin on her interlaced fingers. "While I've been told what happened, I have to ask; Did you really take down that shooter with nothing but a piece of pipe?"

I felt my face heat up, and glanced away. "He didn't see me coming."

"That's not what Mr. Moreau said. He said you came at the guy with a roar that would have made Grunt proud, and that you hit him so hard, you broke his jaw," Miranda pressed, blue eyes drilling into me. "That you saved Goldstein and Chambers' life, and probably everyone else's. And when Garrus got there, you were the one that carried Gabby all the way back to the Normandy before you would let anyone even look at your injuries."

If I could have burst into embarassed flames then and there, I probably would have. "It just happened. Someone had to carry her, and Ken and Joker couldn't." I managed, still not meeting Miranda's eyes. I didn't deserve praise for any of it. I had just told Kasumi that, why did everyone suddenly seem to think I had done something impressive?

"Well, I can't speak for everyone, but as a general rule, we take care of our own. You went out of your way to do that. I think you'll find you made a few more friends around here."

I blinked and looked up at her. "I didn't do anything special."

"That's not what everyone else thinks. If I were you, I would just accept it. You earned some respect, in my opinion." Miranda yawned, covering her mouth with one hand. "Doctor, I'm going to lay down. Wake me when you need me to help with the transfusion. "

"Assuming that Mordin doesn't take care of it, I will. Thank you for your help, Ms. Lawson," Doctor Chakwas said.

"Of course. Mr. Moore, I hope you recover quickly."

I waved a hand in a goodbye. "Good night, Ms. Lawson." I turned my focus back to Dr. Chakwas. "Where are we heading, by the way?"

"Illium. Apparently we are going to find Dr. T'Soni." Her lips formed a thin line. "This seems to be a recurring theme in our adventures."

"Um, you lost me," I said as I slid into the chair that Miranda had vacated. My hip complained until shifted around and found an angle that didn't hurt too much.

"I forget you probably only have had a chance to get a brief history of the last several years." She sipped her coffee, her eyes going a bit unfocused as she thought about her next words. "Liara T'Soni was an archeologist focused on Prothean History. A few years ago, she was one of the original members of Sheperd's team that helped to stop Saren. She and the Commander … became involved. When he was supposedly killed, she vanished, and I didn't hear anything about her, until we showed back up on Illium looking for information on the Collectors. She and the Commander had a fantastic argument, apparently. It's hearsay, but from what I have heard, she sent a message that arrived just an hour or so before the crew was attacked, asking him to come to Illium, that she was in danger."

She took another sip of coffee. "Once he got that message, I'm not sure the Commander even remembered to seal the airlock before we were laying in a course for Illium."

I mulled over that a moment, and looked over at Medical Bay. "Danger like a bomb going off?"

"It's possible, however the timing would have been very tight. They would have had to intercepted Liara's message just as it was sent." She shrugged. "While we might have thumbed our noses at Cerberus as a whole, a retaliatory attack like this seems out of character. "

I shook my head. Trying to keep the names and places and organizations straight was giving me a headache.

Chakwas sighed and stood, leaving her cup of coffee on the table as she did. "I should get a little sleep as well. Did you need anything? You said the pain woke you?"

I waved her off with one hand. "I'm okay. Just … thinking a lot now. I'll come by later so you can dose me again."

She nodded and crossed the room, setting down her cup and getting a new one from the cupboard. She filled it and walked back to the table, setting it down in front of me, a small smile on her lips. I looked up at her, surprised.

"You have been staring at my cup since you got in here. And consider it my thank you for your help yesterday." She slid the mug closer. "Good night, Mr. Moore."

I wrapped my hands around the mug out of reflex, feeling the warmth seeping through to my hands. "Good night, doc." I looked down at the dark liquid as she walked away, giving my mind a moment to try and sort itself out, thinking about a name and what I knew about it.

Normandy. Human space ship. Where I am now.

Krogan. Alien. Strong and tough. Huge.

Omni-tool. Computer and cellphone. And a pain in the ass.

Salarian. Mordin. Smart, tall.

Shepard. Scary. Commander.

I went on that way for a while, trying to keep all the details straight in as concise as manner as I could manage. Memorization had never been easy for me, and simple repetition had always been only real way for me to keep facts straight.

Kasumi Goto. Sneaky. Attentive.

Joker. Pilot. Sick, brittle bones. Sarcastic, funny.

Jenny. Short. Friendly. Hurting.

Kelly …

I stopped trying to quantify the last name and found I couldn't, not in the same manner as I had the rest. I frowned, staring at the liquid as I sorted that thought through. I liked Kelly. She'd been friendly with me, she'd saved my life. She genuinely cared about the people around her, even a complete stranger like me. She didn't fit in all the nice simple categories that I had been working under.

I shook my head, tired. And started again from the top of the list.

Normandy. Human space ship. Where I am at now ….

Author Note: Thanks for reading! Sorry, I had some real life issues come up and I got a bit off my game and writing schedule. I'm getting back in the swing of things though, so should be back on schedule more or less.