Vera woke in with a sudden awareness of pain gripping the left half of her chest. Her eyes snapped open to a darkened, unfamiliar room. Around her, alarms beeped and rang out at her sudden outburst. She could hear her heartbeat racing just behind her, matching its painful beats in her chest. Vera tried to breathe, but the breathing tube in her throat prevented her from doing so. She closed her eyes tight. Her fingers fumbled along the sheets of her bed as she tried to reach the tube. She felt hot and in extreme amounts of pain. Every expansion of her chest by the ventilator caused her more and more pain. She needed the tube out now. Her fingers managed to reach her chest before someone grabbed her hand.

"Vera relax!"

Vera opened her eyes to see John standing above her, holding her hand still. She tried to speak, but the tube stopped her, causing her to panic again. She struggled against his grip.

"Vera, Vera relax." John urged. He reached to the side, out of Vera's line of sight.

She closed her eyes tight, not caring of the tears rolling down her cheeks. Her heart beat raced dangerously, her chest seared in pain, her body tensed in the bed. She clutched John's hand tightly and prayed to god to either kill her or bring her past this.

Suddenly Vera felt her strength quickly receding. The pain in her chest lessened, but only slightly. Her body tension eased entirely. Vera opened her eyes, staring up at John. He set the needle on the table beside her bed and gently touched her forehead. His thumb ran over her forehead in a gentle, soothing motion. He held her hand, gently stroking the back of her hand. Vera felt her eyes grow heavy. John's calm face grew blurry with each passing second. A sudden revelation crossed her thoughts, causing Vera to blink, and fight against the drug. She had seen him before. Before Russia, before her transfer. It was a strange way to recognize someone, just by their altered face and voice. Perhaps it was the drug that had caused the revelation, or perhaps it was a combination of similar physical state such as their first meeting. But whatever it was, Vera had learned the truth. John leaned down to her, still stroking her forehead.

"Relax, Vera." he whispered.

There was no denying that was the same voice that had spoken to her back in Somalia. The soldier that had saved her three years ago. Too exhausted to fight any further, Vera let her eyes close. She concentrated on the small strokes from John as she slipped into the dark abyss of unconsciousness. John never let go.

Vera's heartbeat began to stabilize. The alarms finally ceased their blaring, returning the room to its uncomfortable silence. John watched Vera for a few moments and sighed heavily. His own heart rate was slowly coming down from its sudden rush. He lowered his hand from Vera's head and checked the monitor above. Her vitals were stable and holding steady now, the drug had worked.

John sighed again and sat back in his chair, still holding Vera's hand. He rubbed his tired eyes, trying to shake the sudden scare he'd just received. Leave it to Vera to make the simplest act an issue. Granted, John knew all too well how she was bound to act. She had a bad history with ventilators and medication, it was no surprise she'd reacted the way she had. He was just content that he had been with her rather than anyone else.

Looking at her now, John couldn't help but see how small she looked. It was no secret that Vera was the smallest on the team, but her skills had more than made up for it, the fact just slipped everyone's mind. But as she lay in the bed, IV in her arm, breathing tube in her mouth, heart monitor pads on her chest and bandaged in heavy gauze, her small stature was only amplified. She was still pale and the off white color mixed with her white hair made her seem like a ghost. Given that she'd died a number of times before reaching the base, maybe they should change her name to Ghost?

"Station nurse said the alarms went off."

John turned to the door behind him. Sarge stood in the doorway with his arms behind his back. No one from 6 had gone too far from the infirmary since arriving. John nodded. "Vera woke up panicked. I had to put her under to keep her from hurting herself further."

Sarge entered the small room. "Guess that's a good sign she'll make it."

John snorted humorlessly. "Vera's not that easy to kill. And we all know how many times people have tried."

Sarge snorted. "Yes we do." He looked over to John, who was watching Vera. "Get some rest John. You haven't left her side since we arrived. Won't be any good to her if you pass out."

John shook his head and stood up. "Not until I remove the breathing tube."

"Sure that's wise?" Sarge asked.

John looked to Sarge. "She was fighting to breathe and just tried to claw the damn thing from her face. It's safe to say she can breathe on her own. Mind keeping an eye on her while I find another doctor?"

"You got it." Sarge said.

John took one last look at Vera and released her hand. He turned slowly and walked out of her room. His hand felt painfully empty and cold within her small hand in his. There had been many close calls since Vera joined the team. The cliffs, Somalia, India, Congo, and each time Vera always came back just as strong as ever. Nothing like this had ever happened...not since Somalia, and even then the mental trauma had been significant. Vera had lost her closest friend during the mission and nearly lost her life. Could she recover from this traumatic event as well as before, or would this finally be her breaking point? John feared her outcome as he walked down the hall.

I know this was a short chapter, I just thought I should post this now before I finish the longer one. I also kinda wanted to show a different side of Vera in this one. I know I've said that she doesn't like the infirmary but I wanted to show what she's like after certain injuries. so let me know whatchya think.