The ward was quiet tonight as Dr. Chakwas did her final round of the day. It was late, or technically early depending on how you looked at it. It was still dark outside but she knew the sun would start to rise soon, and she might be able to catch a few hours sleep before the early shift.
She laughed at the thought. She ran this place like she'd ran her team at Huerta Memorial, like she'd ran it on the Normandy. But this infirmary was neither of those places. It was a rather ramshackle building somewhere in the suburbs of London instead.
It had been chosen as it was one of the few around that had still been standing and was structurally sound...more or less. But for all its superficial damage, it was relatively clean and dry, though a veritable army of medical technicians did their best to either keep it that way, or try to keep the mess and dust at bay.
She had been stationed here a while ago by Admiral Hackett, along with a contingent of other doctors and medics. He'd said he needed the best on the ground to keep the marines and the civilians alive and fighting. He hadn't ordered them to come to Earth, they had volunteered for it. It had taken almost three months of suicide drop missions and covert insertion ships to get ten doctors to the ground under the noses of the Reapers. However, the cost in terms of pilots and marines had been stupidly high and she wondered if it'd been worth it. But then the real work had begun.
It had been hard and brutal, but those that made it down did everything they could for those who were injured. However, the Reapers were exceptionally efficient when it came to their enemies. Those that couldn't be taken were killed, usually torn or blasted to pieces. If they couldn't take prisoners, they made sure they didn't leave survivors. A few of her fellow doctors had been killed in action. One or two of the medics had lost their nerve and their minds and disappeared. Many had their suspicious they'd committed suicide, a few of the more optimist theories they'd gone into hiding, but no one really believe that.
The machines beeped quietly but steadily as she checked their readouts and made notes on the datapad for this patient. Their injuries had been quite severe when they'd been brought in. Burns, some crushed bones, gunshot wounds...and like quite a few that were currently in her charge, the patient had been suffering from dehydration and malnutrition as there was many injured who had been found but had had to be dug out of rubble.
However, with the severity of this patient's injuries and the level of dehydration and malnutrition, a medi-gel coma had been induced to keep them alive. It had been a difficult decision for the Doctor to make, as it was very possible the patient would not woke up from the coma, but there was a marginal chance they would, and so she had made a judgment call...and, so far, it seemed to be working.
Vitals were low but getting stronger every day. The surface burns were starting to heal and the internal bleeding had stopped from the gunshot wounds. It looked promising on the surface, but Doctor Chakwas was more concerned that she let on.
This patient had severe complications, complications that were beyond her expertise, and so she'd been searching for someone who might be able to help. But so far, even that seemed like a very slim hope, just like the medi-gel coma. But that hadn't stopped her from trying. She was known to many of the men and woman serving on Earth. Some of the aliens too...like Wrex and Grunt, whom she had served with aboard the Normandy. And others she had treated over the course of the war and felt owed her a debt for what she had done for them...though the Doctor didn't believe the people she healed owed her anything.
She sighed as she put the datapad down. The improvement in the patient's vital signs was promising as it meant they were regaining their strength, but this was merely a short term improvement really. The patient would be in recovery for a very long time, even longer if help couldn't be found...if they'd ever recover fully at all. She had seen it before, but not often. A marine gravely injured and although the body had healed, their mind and spirit had not. She understood such feelings, she felt them herself.
'Are you ok Doctor?'
She jumped at the voice behind her; she hadn't heard the orderly come in.
'Oh, yes. I'm alright. I was just making one last check before bed.' She smiled in a reassuring manner to show she was alright, although she didn't feel it.
'Don't worry Doctor, I'll keep my eyes on your patients and notify you the moment there's any change.' The orderly smiled back brightly.
'Thank you.' She replied, handing over the datapad '...and goodnight' she offered before slipping out.
She almost felt stupid at her feelings of terror at that moment. But she knew she was not...no one should've had to witness such things. No one. Her feet took her to the small console station that had been set up for messages now that the Reapers had been defeated. It had been too risky to have such things when they were crawling all over Earth, for who knew if any lines of communication other that the QEC was secure from them? So they'd relied on Runners, brave people who ran the gauntlet every time word had to be sent. Doctor Chakwas was always deeply respectful of those who did such things, and always had to patch them up before, with a heavy heart and a lot of guilt, sending them back with the reply. But they had helped form the very backbone of the Resistance movement and they were heroes, each and every one of them...just like Shepard.
Shepard.
The Doctor swallowed when she thought about the Commander. She had been a wonderfully courageous woman and the Doctor was proud to say that she had been able to call the Commander a friend. She missed her greatly, she missed all the Normandy crew greatly...but the ship had held too many bad and horrifying memories for her and so she had declined Shepard's request for her to return there. The Commander had said she understood her reluctance to rejoin, and for once, Doctor Chakwas felt that Shepard really did understand. How could she not, with all the things she had faced in her life...she'd never faced death, in the truest sense before Cerberus rebuilt her. But there was still a part of the Doctor that also felt that Shepard could never understand. Shepard could never understand what it would be like to wake up in the middle of the night screaming, being too scared to close her eyes because of what she'd see in her dreams. Doctor Karin Chakwas was no coward, but she had known true fear that day the Collectors had attacked. She had seen real horror in the bowls of their ship and it had shaken her down to her very core. It was a fear that would never ever leave her for the rest of her life. She had done what she could to try and ease it by doing all she could to return to her life beforehand. But she did not forget the terror. She couldn't.
However, working at the hospital on the Citadel had brought a sense of calm to her that she had missed. It wasn't jetting around the galaxy, visiting places she'd only read about or pushing back the frontiers of space like when aboard a ship...but the hospital had provided a sense of security and safety but didn't lack for variety. All races seemed to pass through the Citadel, with one or two exceptions, and some ended up needing medical attention. She had learned a lot working at Huerta Memorial, almost as much as she'd learned aboard the Normandy, if not more in some cases. But, despite the horrid association that ship had now, she missed it. She missed the ship, she missed the sense of freedom travelling across the stars...and she missed her friends.
'Ma'am.' The tech stations by the console station stood and saluted her when she approached and the Doctor waved him to sit back down, not unkindly. She could never get used to being saluted like that, she held no real rank so there was no need, but the Alliance techs and marines did. She suspected it was merely their way of showing respect and thanks for what she did, but it still felt wrong.
'Have there been any messages for me?' she asked.
'No Doctor' that was better, she thought. 'There hasn't.'
The Doctor sighed, clearly disappointed. 'Ok, but can you let me know the moment anything does?'
'Of course ma'am...I mean Doctor.'
Oops, she thought, I must have let that grimace show on my face.
'Thank you.' She replied and left him to whatever he was doing before she'd turned up and made to her room.
It wasn't much really, just a small space with a door, but it had enough room for a small cot and that was all she needed. It reminded her of being aboard ship, the lack of space and room for anything other than the necessities. A few datapads were on the floor, just things she kept to hand should sleep choose to elude her, or should she choose to keep it at bay, along with the nightmares it brought with it. But not tonight; tonight she was tired and she felt sure that oblivion beckoned to her, the dreamless sleep of the truly exhausted. It happened to her every so often and she would wake refreshed and ready for the galaxy, but they were yet to balance out with the waking up with tears streaming down her face and sweat pouring from her brow.
And she was right. For once, oblivion did await her and she slept like the dead, but not for long.
Just before sunrise, no more than two hours after she had closed her eyes, the Doctor woke with a start, not jolted by some night terror but by...something else. Something was…wasn't wrong, no, that wasn't right...but something had changed. She lay there, in the gloom trying to piece together why she had woken but the reason was elusive to her. The feeling to get up and find out what had changed was more compelling than her desire to return to sleep.
Silently she slid through the halls of the wards, her eyes sharp in the gloom. The whole place was quiet. A few of the medical staff were aboard and nodded to her as she passed as if nothing untoward had happened. It was a rather disconcerting feeling, but the Doctor was at a loss to explain it but at the same time...she had to discover it. And yet, everywhere she looked, everything was peaceful, calm and in order.
She sighed again, clearly she had just been imagining things, after all she'd looked everywhere and found nothing...she stopped dead. No, she thought...not everywhere.
With slow but purposeful steps, Doctor Chakwas made her way back to the room of the last patient she had seen before she turned in, the one in the healing medi-gel coma. It seemed impossible that anything couldn't happen or changed there. But all things considering...who knows.
Taking a deep breath after seeing that the orderly who had startled her early had gone, the Doctor steeled herself before she pushed the door open and confronted what was in the room and found herself stopping dead at what she saw.
The very person she'd been searching for!
