The second Defiant's familiar smell filled Commander Rzepka's nose, she felt a small yet welcome sense of comfort. A tiny piece of home that wasn't destroyed. A flood of thoughts and emotions from the crew members on the bridge suddenly hit her like a ton of bricks and a wave of dizziness came over her. A trembling hand instinctively reached out for the back of a chair as she steadied herself.

"Commander, glad to see you're alright," Lieutenant Prynn Tenmei announced happily, looking up from her console. Her dark-features portrayed a strange sense of calm. She sat in the captain's chair, overlooking the bridge. "We have you in section K level 2. There is a replicator in those quarters. Do you need anything else, sir?"

"I think that will be it, Lieutenant. Thank you," the commander replied quietly. Hips popping in her pelvis, she lowered herself into a science station chair at the back of the bridge, took a few deep breaths and pushed the dizziness aside. As she took a second deep breath, the turbolift doors hissed open and a welcome sight filled her eyes.

Dr. Bashir immediately grasped the commander's tired body in his arms, holding her with most of his strength. He pressed his cheek to her temple and she felt the comforting prickles of his salt-and-pepper beard. The way he held the back of her head with his protective hand helped her feel secure– a feeling she didn't even know she craved. She breathed deep his scent, the warmth of his body crept through her uniform. Stinging tears met her eyes as she squeezed them tight, holding onto Bashir tighter and laying her cheek on his chest. She thought about how her nose fit perfectly in the crook of his neck as she nuzzled deeper into him.

"My god," he whispered into her ear, fighting back tears himself. "I didn't think you made it out in time." His relief and worry streamed into her consciousness. She never wanted to let him go again.

"I didn't think you did either," Rzepka finally whispered back. Her body trembled, both out of relief of seeing her lover and pure exhaustion.

Finally, the doctor released his grip on her, holding her out at an arms' length. "Are you alright? Were you injured?"

"No, I wasn't injured. I'm just..." the commander paused. She looked her Imdazi in the eye. She wanted to tell him exactly how she was feeling, but not infront of the entire bridge crew. "Can we talk in private?"

Bashir nodded. "I'll walk you to your quarters."

In the turbolift, the random bridge crew voices quieted. Her head cleared a bit and she realized the anger and sadness were her own emotions. The worry and the relief belonged to Bashir.

"I'm just... having a hard time with all the emotions. I'm not able to block out everyone's thoughts. It's a bit overwhelming," Rzepka started.

"Did you go to the Senior Officers' Meeting?" Bashir asked gently.

Rzepka nodded. "I had to leave." She looked at the floor, noting his inquisitive thoughts. "I vomited on their perfectly manicured lawn."

The turbolift fell quiet for a moment. Bashir tried push aside the worry, but found it nearly impossible. He had no idea the difficulty of dealing with everyone's emotions during a tragedy. Dealing with his own was hard enough.

"Didn't you work overnight last night?" the doctor finally asked. "I bet you're tired, aren't you?"

"Very."

"Perhaps after some rest, you'll feel a bit better. Your telepathy is always much more... unpredictable... when you're tired."

He was right. Twenty-six hours had passed since the commander slept. Once the turbolift reached section K, it stopped, allowing the doors to hiss open. The Doctor and the Engineer stepped out of the lift, turning right for her quarters.

"Would you like to share quarters with me? I'd really like to have some company," Rzepka quietly asked, ignoring the ship's bunking rules. Bashir nodded.

"Of course. I'll let the quartermaster officer know on my way back to sick bay," he replied, then he smiled. "Besides, I don't think my quarters would have a full-service replicator."

Once inside her quarters, Rzepka once again absorbed the comforting smell of Defiant - a keen smell of sanitation and leather. A Starfleet smell. An officer's quarters smell.

"Please, try to get some rest. If you have trouble falling asleep, let me know. I'll be back in three or four more hours. I just need to get everything straightened out in sick bay," Bashir quickly explained, reaching out and clutching his love in another embrace. "I know it seems very bad now, but it's going to be okay. We'll get through this together. All of us."

Rzepka nodded, smiled, and looked Bashir in his dark brown eyes. "I love you."

"I love you more," he breathed and with a kiss on the lips, he was out the door and back to work. The quiet quarters consumed the exhausted commander as she laid her head down on the bottom bunk bed.

"Computer, lights."

The lights went dim and her mind lit up. She suddenly realized everything was gone. Her favorite purple nightgown. Her mother's confirmation ring. Her father's favorite coffee mug. Kukalaka. What she wouldn't have given to see that silly old bear again. Staring at her from the nightstand. Grinning like he kept a juicy secret he was about to share.

She still didn't know how many of the crew checked in yet or not.

She wondered what happened in the meeting she missed.

How safe is the Defiant in orbit? Is the Typhon Pact after someone in particular? Are they after anyone at all?

I wonder if my mother knows yet. Perhaps I should call her. What would I say? Hey, Mom, I'm okay?

Yes, that's a good idea.

Now wide awake, Commander Rzepka rose from her bed and turned back on the lights. She sat at the console to the left of the room and flipped the power switch for the console.

"Computer, send a priority one subspace transmission to Ama Rzepka, Melorin Province, Betazed."

The computer beeped in response as Rzepka realized it was the middle of the night on Betazed at her mother's house. She would be waking her mother out of sleep. No matter, the call was already placed and she would hate for her mother to hear about this happening from someone else.

"... Oh, Kimmie. This is horrible... I'm so sorry. My goodness, child, you don't look well."

"I'm safe, Mom. I just wanted to tell you before you heard it on the news tomorrow..."

Rzepka talked with her mother for a half hour before closing the transmission. She felt blindingly tired now, so she returned to the bottom bunk. Her head swam with thoughts, flashbacks, and emotions of the day. Visions of terrified officers running toward the loading dock as she was running in the opposite direction toward the fusion reactor. Recollections of her own crackling voice screaming orders to Nog to get the crew out of the engine room and to the Defiant. The odor of the overloading fusion core still lingering in her nose. The faces of the men and women she didn't even know who didn't make it to the transporter rooms or the runabouts still hanging in her memory.

It all haunted her.

Now having been awake for 28 hours, she craved a cup of coffee and... oatmeal? Her stomach grew hungry for comfort food and oatmeal resembled the closest thing to graswa, a Betazoid food made from the bark of the Bezet tree. She remembered the mornings her mother made graswa for her before school. Before she could bring her tired, weary body upright out of her bed, she heard the code panel for the door.

Dr. Bashir quickly appeared in the doorway and spoke with a constant soft voice. "Why are you still awake, Love?"

"Why are you back so early?" Rzepka gently questioned back, curling her eyebrows against the pulsing pain in her head as his emotions flooded her consciousness. She realized her voice crackled and sounded hoarse from screaming orders earlier in the day. A sick, twisted feeling formed in her gut which felt strangely like hunger again, yet she ignored it. She laid back down on the hard bed and draped her arm over her eyes. "Everything okay in sick bay?"

"Oh... yes," Bashir replied, sitting in a leather chair to remove his boots. He felt tired, too, both physically and emotionally. "Just standard operations during a... crisis."

The doctor placed his boots aside and sat back in his chair in relief. He glanced over at Rzepka lying in the bottom bunk, arm still draped over her face. He could tell she looked pale and her breaths were shallow - obviously uncomfortable. Bashir slowly leaned forward in his chair, placing his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together. "Are you feeling alright? Can I get you anything, Kym?"

The commander thought for a moment. She suddenly knew she wasn't hungry any more. She suddenly wasn't anything anymore.

"My throat hurts." She sat up on the edge of the bunk, but her body refused to move any further. She looked up at her Imdazi's face – the face she feared gone just a few hours prior. More than anything, she wished she could go back. Tears stung her already burning eyes and her eyebrow furrowed with emotion. Her broken voice sunk to a whisper. "And my heart hurts."

The doctor stood from his chair and sat beside the commander, putting his arm around her shoulders. He held her close as she started to cry large tears, released heaving sobs, and gasped large gulps of air. Bashir couldn't help but feel the sting of his own tears come back to his own eyes, and through a soft voice, he said the only thing he could think of that could comfort her.

"I know. Mine, too."