A week passed as Elaine walked the long road towards recovery. Chakwas kept her in the Medbay for a further twenty-four hours, to be sure she was okay. It was a little unnecessary, but Elaine was in no position to argue. If anything, she felt shamed they had to go through all of this for her at all. She did not regret the things she did – she had been under the impression she was possessed, and indeed the experience had felt so real… she was still haunted if she stopped for a moment to think about it. And if she had been possessed, Elaine was still of the firm belief that it was the right course of action to prevent more death and take her own life. Yet, now it turned out she wasn't. And she was grateful to Shepard and the others for what they did to save her. She was shamed she'd put them through all this because she couldn't keep a hold of her own control.

Moving on with her life proved to be a little harder than she'd thought. She'd tried to ignore her grief, to pretend she'd never found out the truth. But in the quiet moments when she had nothing to do and no one to talk to, the memories were all she could think about. Then she attempted to just accept them and brush them aside. But that was worse. They demanded to be listened to, to have her full attention. Elaine didn't want to – desperately didn't want to. If she did, she feared it would be like taking a dozen steps backwards and losing herself to the grief once more.

One evening, Elaine grew tired of wallowing in her own self-pity. The crew's quarters were deserted, the rest of them either out at dinner if they were off rotation, or at their stations if they were. It was a rare moment when Elaine found herself alone in this place. And for a moment she wandered if they had given her this time because her misery had driven them away. The silence was the worst. It made her thoughts that much louder. When she could take it no longer, she thought to go and find Tali, for any kind of distraction.

But as she opened the door to step outside, she found herself suddenly face to face with someone she had not expected. Obsidian eyes blinked at her, a forest green chest blocking her exit. Thane stared down at the Warden, hands behind his back and taking a stance so formal and non-threatening, one would never think him an assassin.

She was more than a little surprised to see him. After all, the pair of them had not spent much time together since they'd met; and considering that the last time they'd been in close proximity, Elaine had attacked him. "Oh, Thane, hello,"

"Hello again, Elaine." Thane was as cordial and well mannered as if nothing out of the ordinary had transpired between them a few days ago. "I am pleased to see that you look undoubtedly better than our last encounter."

"Thank you," tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, Elaine plucked up the courage to face her shame. "Thane? I would like to apologise… for if I hurt you, you know, during our last encounter. I was not of my right mind, I was frightened and desperate, and I should have had better control of myself–"

He held up a hand to halt her ramblings. "There is no need to explain yourself to me. I did not come to you now seeking an apology."

She cocked her head, curious yet wary for him to continue.

"I brought with me a prayer book," he said, and from his jacket, he produced a beautiful leather-bound tome, so small it fit snuggly in his palm. At first, Elaine thought it was plain black in colour, but on closer inspection she found that it was a deep purple. "When I lost Irikah, my soul lost its anchor to this world. My body entered a form of battle-sleep. I was without purpose. I wondered if you would appreciate the solace I should have had in those dark times."

"I don't know if there's much point, Thane," Elaine whispered. The very thought of prayer, of turning to the Maker when he had obviously abandoned her and all those she loved, made her sick. "The god I pray to is undoubtedly dead. The rest of my people who prayed to him are."

"I see…" Thane murmured slowly, thoughtfully. Clasping the book reverently in his hands, he caressed the pages between his scaly fingers. "The old ways of my people are dying. The younger generations do not think our gods can help us in such a vast, dangerous and unknown galaxy. But I and a few others still hold to them. There is wisdom in the ways of our ancestors."

Certain words he spoke rang true in Elaine's mind. And she wondered with curiosity what he could possibly offer her at this time. There was a time when Elaine had believed in the Maker, though with a passing interest like any other who had been born to it with no real reason to yearn for divine intervention. It had just been another part of ordinary life. And then her family had been taken from her, her entire world turned upset down, she'd become tainted and then the army at Ostagar had fallen. She'd felt as if she'd earned the Maker's scorn, and she repaid it back to him in kind. When her friend, Leliana, had spoken of how devout in her beliefs she was, and her vision she attributed to the Maker, Elaine had initially scoffed. But slowly, Leliana's unwavering faith, kindness, and the hope with which she looked upon all things, gave Elaine an inkling of her old belief. Then she'd seen the Urn of Sacred Ashes, had walked the path of the Gauntlet, and seen the ghosts she'd thought long gone. She'd returned from that mountain a changed woman. In every stride, every swing of her blade, every word she spoke to her troops that joined her cause, was the hidden belief that the Maker was with her, guiding her, granting her the strength to defeat this evil. And then she'd given her all, had died, wound up here, and discovered the Maker had truly abandoned her and her world. There was no more room in her heart anymore for faith.

Yet still, she stepped aside and allowed Thane entry into her abode. She sat on her bunk, and the Drell sat right beside her, hands clasped in his lap. Perhaps she thought it should be awkward between them. The man was practically a stranger to her and was beside her on her bed. Yet Thane's posture held no embarrassed stiffness, no closed off reluctance. He was as calm and poised as ever, tranquil even in his ever-so-slight smile. Elaine slowly found herself relaxing around him. Though she saw the point of his visit fruitless, perhaps it was her inborn love of all history that pushed her to speak.

"I… What gods do you pray to, Thane?" she asked quietly, and gazed down at the prayer book pressed between his palms. She had not noticed the leather cords binding the spine together, much like the old books in her home used to do. Each chord had a small string of silver wound around it, making it glitter in the soft light of the room.

Thane nodded in approval at her line of inquiry. "That depends upon the circumstance. To find a target I seek, I speak with Amonkira, Lord of hunters. When I act to defend another, Arashu. And when I have taken a life, I speak with Kalahira, Goddess of Oceans and the Afterlife."

"Forgive me, but those last two don't seem to have much in common."

"Consider. The ocean is full of life. Yet it is not life as you and I know it. To survive there, we must release our hold on land, accept a new way to live. So it is with the death. The soul must accept its departure from the body. If it can't, it will be lost."

What an odd yet seemingly flawless way to look at death. Elaine's mind was overtaken with visions of standing upon a rocky shore, a shore that looked strikingly like the Wounded Coast, not far from her childhood home. The ocean sprayed into her hair as it beat against the shore. Naked, bereft of all ties to her worldly life, she stepped into the surf. Though the ocean appeared dark, foreboding, and frightening, where she tread, it calmed. The water encircled her, clung to her, brought her down into its depths with an ease the belied the terrifying depictions of death she had always been told. Elaine was swept away by such a poetic way to consider death. Thane did not speak of promises of glittering cities ruled by a god, or endless peace and happiness in divinity. Instead, he appeared to merely describe the process of death. And it seemed a lot less frightening in his calm and gentle tone.

As if he had monitored her response, and awaited her last reservations to fall, Thane dipped his head. He opened the prayer book, and found a single silver page, the elegant green scrawl indecipherable to Elaine yet undeniable in its beauty. He rested the book open on his knees, and clasped his hands in front of him. Face turned down, he imbodied the very image of a man at prayer. Elaine did not join him, for she did not feel inclined to do so. Yet when his deep melancholic voice filled the room, she was spellbound to it.

"Kalahira, mistress of inscrutable depths, we ask forgiveness. Kalahira, whose waves wear down stone and sand. Kalahira, those once loved have departed from the shore to sail across your endless tides. We ask, Kalahira, that you take those we have loved into your embrace. Wash the sins from them and set them on the distant shore of the infinite spirit. Guide them, keep them, hold them to your side until we too can forgo our earthly ties, and sail with them across the sea."

Though she had foresworn prayers to gods mere minutes ago, Elaine found herself moved that he prayed for her and her family. It made her feel ashamed to think she would not do so. Yet there was something in his tone. He prayed for her situation, yes, that was obvious in his words. But beneath that, in his tone, the very heart of the emotion that spoke the words, he prayed for something that had happened to him. Did he pray for his lost wife? Elaine had to remind herself that Thane had lost all he deemed dear to him. He had known only one life, found love and family, and in one instant lost it all to the cruelness of reality. He'd been mourning for a long time, had lost his son, and only now just found him again, when he was so close to losing it all with what precious time he had.

Realising how similar they were, Elaine couldn't help but reach out and hold onto Thane's slim fingers in her own. Here he was, never faltering, never wavering, and only offered her the same solace. And something in his gaze as he turned to her gave her courage. After a time, she spoke to the Maker, to his prophet and bride Andraste, as she would've in a chantry, begging for the souls of her lost loved ones to be safe and well at the Maker's side. It devolved into an angry tirade. She cursed the Maker as to why he had let her world come to an end, why had he let all her sacrifices and hard work be for nothing. Then her anger had subsided to tears, and she'd spoken instead to her Mother and Father, her nephew, her brother, Alistair and all her friends, one by one. She begged their forgiveness, recounted them tales of her adventures she knew they would've wanted to be part of…

… and then she said goodbye. It was one of the hardest things she had ever had to do. They'd been dead centuries, but she grieved for them as if it had only just happened. Whispers of her final farewells to them echoed around the room as she let it trail into silence. Her final pledge to them being that maybe one day, she would hold a funeral pyre for all of them, as she should have done. One day she would find some kind of item to represent them all, and she'd burn them. It was the closest thing to cremating their bodies as she would get.

When words would pour forth from her no longer, she sat and attempted to regain her breath. Tears slid down her face, and she let them. Something inside of her felt freed. There was no reconciliation with the Maker, her faith was not fully restored. That might take time, if at all. But she felt better to know she'd done something to let her loved ones rest in peace. The urge to speak to them had been so great, she hadn't even realised she'd been choking on it until the constriction finally abated.

"Thank you, Thane." She smiled, and gave his hand one last squeeze before releasing it. Throughout her lengthy monologue he had stayed by her side, holding her hand, supporting her in a way he shouldn't have had to do. But she was absurdly grateful that he had. "For everything."

The smile he returned to her was more than a fleeting gesture. "It has been my privilege, Siha."

The Warden blinked, confused. "I-I'm sorry, I think the translator spell in my head stopped working. I didn't catch that last word?"

"Siha…" he repeated barely above a whisper. His gaze turned introverted, thoughtful. "Forgive me, it was a slip of the tongue. I do not think there is a translation of it in your language."

"What does it mean?"

"A Siha is one of the warrior-angels to Arashu, goddess of motherhood and protection. Sihas are fierce in wrath, tenacious protectors. Isn't that what you are?"

She looked away, withdrawing as the emotions she'd unleashed in his presence left her raw and vulnerable. "I do not think I am worthy of such a title."

"As I once said to Shepard: The measure of an individual can be difficult to discern by actions alone. From what I've come to understand, your entire purpose is to defend the helpless from any threat they face. You were even willing to take your own life, all to protect the ones you've come to care for. If that is not a Siha, then I do not know what is."

Elaine sat, too shocked to do anything. She did not even respond when Thane slowly stood from her bunk and left the room. Perhaps he meant none of it and it was only to make her feel better about herself. Or perhaps there was some truth to it after all. In either case, a hint of pride at his words came back to her. An urge settled in her stomach, similar to when she had been a girl and her father would claim something about her capabilities, and she'd felt the unquenchable desire to meet his expectations, to make him proud. The entire encounter left her with much to think about over the next few days.

Though she was on 'sick-leave' during this time of recovery from her ordeal, Elaine often found herself begging others to let her do things. She didn't want to sit and dwell, she wanted to be doing something that would help to ease her mind. Though all she loved had been laid to rest, it was now time to mourn them. And Elaine didn't want to spend her time crying on her bed, she wanted to help her mind process and move on. She'd heard Joker say once to Mordin that the brain did its most useful thinking when it wasn't concentrating on it – hence why the best ideas come from dog walks or showers. Elaine had no idea if the two were really corelated, but something about the idea appealed.

Jacob let her help with the weapons in the armoury, she continued to train Grunt, Tali and Kasumi hung around her and constantly tried to cheer her up, even Jack tried to pitch in by pulling Elaine down to the cargo hold to work out with her. But at some point during each and every day, Elaine found herself gravitating towards the Battery. Garrus seemed to be expecting her every time and let her come in, sit on his bunk in the corner and just spend time with him. They talked, mostly about nothing in particular, sometimes about personal history: growing up, how being away from family affected them, Garrus even told her about the frustrating letters he was corresponding with his younger sister, Solana. Though he wouldn't say exactly why they were fighting, Elaine got the impression it was something personal to the entire family and it was not his right to tell that information carelessly. In a way, Garrus managed to keep her spirits up, by treating her just as she needed. Most days that entailed treating her as if nothing were amiss, that she was normal and not made of broken glass. And some days it involved letting her have her silence and just staying close by to assure her she was not alone. Sometimes she fell asleep on his bunk but would always awaken to find him still there.

It warmed her to think that at least one thing in her life remained intact, and not destroyed forever.

Samara had heard of Elaine's moping – from Joker, no doubt – and had offered Elaine a few hours of her time. Elaine had agreed rather enthusiastically. She and Samara had not interacted that much since the Warden had discovered the Justicar on Illium. They'd gotten on so well that Elaine found it rather disappointing that they'd not done anything with their initial friendship since. Maybe now was the time to change that. When she reached Samara's room, she opened the door and found the asari woman cross-legged on the floor, a ball of blue fire hovering in the air between her outstretched hands.

"Elaine, thank you for coming," Samara said serenely. She turned her head to acknowledge her, and Elaine was fascinated to see that her usual moon-like eyes were eclipsed with blue-glow of her magic. "Sit with me. It is not often I have comrades to chat with. And I believe meditation might best help you. I find it quite relaxing. And informing."

Whilst this might not have been her first choice, Elaine couldn't deny that she was slightly intrigued. Sitting beside Samara, she tried to make herself comfortable. Legs folded, hands resting on her knees, she closed her eyes and allowed all thought to slip away. The tingle of Samara's magic echoed across her akin and made the hair on her body stand on end. The floor was surprisingly warm, and the dim light of the room allowed a serenity much like sleep to overtake her mind. Thoughts drifted lazily in and out of her consciousness. She thought about everything that had happened to her, fleetingly remarking how it was almost a miracle that she was even alive to be in this position at all. Memories of Thane's time with her echoed around in her mind. His words, their meanings, what they meant to her, it all replayed over and over inside her mind.

"Something has resonated in you," came Samara's voice, gentle and with a hint of a smile even in her words.

Elaine shrugged, though she knew Samara couldn't see it. "Just thinking about something Thane said,"

"And you are undecided on what to think of it. Humans are so individualistic. I've often found that if there are three humans in a room, there will be six opinions."

"Apologies for being so divisive in that regard."

"I find it quite remarkable," said Samara. Elaine opened her eyes and found that the blue fire had died, and Samara was looking at her with a fond smile. "I find it also quite extraordinary when a human can stick to his or her own opinions without faltering. You remind me of one my daughters: Falere, my youngest. She was always compassionate towards others. Willing to see the good in them, to do anything for them even should it be at cost to herself."

"I'm honoured that that's what you see," and Elaine meant it. Samara turned to look out the large window into the great expanse of endless stars. Daring to know more about this strangely honourable yet matronly figure, she said: "I did not know you had children,"

"I spent my youth on the move, adventuring. I killed people, mated with them, or just danced the night away. I learned so much, experienced so much. Then, my matron days came. So I decided I would returned to my homeworld and try to start a family. I could finally sit back, bask, and enjoy my children…" Samara trailed off, her face becoming sombre, and she looked down at the ground. "But in one moment, it was all taken away."

Elaine said nothing. Her brows turned upward in concern, but she dared not move. Samara would not turn her gaze away from directly ahead of her. She spoke as if the words were being sadly recounted to herself, as if this was something strangely private.

"I sat in a Medlab while a near-sighted doctor droned at me. And I learned that nothing was as I thought it would be." Finally, the Justicar stood with fluent grace. She walked to the window, as if the next part of her story laid amongst the stars. Then, she turned to the Warden, her gaze a hardened mask of professionalism. "Do you remember when we met on Illium, I told you about a very dangerous person I was pursuing? She is an Ardat-Yakshi. It is a term from a dead Asari dialect, it means 'demon of the night-winds'. But that is mythology. She is simply a very dangerous woman who kills without mercy. I learned on Illium that she is going by the name of Morinth."

Elaine stood also, though not nearly as gracefully as the asari. "What makes her so different?"

"Morinth suffers a rare genetic disorder. When she mates with you, there is no gentle melding of nervous systems. She overpowers yours, burns it out, haemorrhages your brain. You end up a mindless shell, and soon after you are dead. She confuses her victims, twists their feelings. They will do anything for her favour."

"That sounds more like… mental rape," Elaine whispered, utterly repulsed by the via idea. To think someone could invade her mind, bend it against her will, violate the very centre of her being and then crush her with it… It was an unimaginable horror that sent shivers down her spine. "How could someone be born this way?"

"The Condition is the root of the problem, but the responsibility for her actions lies only with Morinth and her own choices. It manifests with maturity. When one is diagnosed, she is offered to live in seclusion and comfort. If she refuses, it shows her addiction to the ecstasy she gets from killing her mates. There is no redemption for such a person. As far as I know, only three Ardat-Yakshi exist today. Two chose a life of seclusion. The third ran."

"Morinth."

"She ran and I am sworn to kill her."

Not speaking for a moment, Elaine dared to take a step closer, to offer Samara an apologetic look, before she spoke the revelation that had occurred to her in the Justicar's story. "Because she is your daughter…"

A shar intake of breath, and the asari's spine stiffened. For a half second, a pained look eclipsed her. "… Yes."

"How many children do you have?"

"Three. And three Ardat-Yakshi are in existence today. It is as it sounds. Morinth was always the wild one – she was happy and free. But selfish. My hopes, my dreams, were all bound up in my children. Still, my feelings have always come after my duty. The same is true of you." She gestured to Elaine, who begrudgingly had to accept the comparison. Like Samara, she had forgone many personal forms of happiness in the pursuit of her duty. So much so, that Elaine had to wonder who she was without it anymore. Samara turned away from her, staring back out into the abyss of space. "She was the strongest and smartest of my daughters. She would not accept the injustice thrust upon her. When she ran, I gave up all that I possessed. I own nothing, claim nothing. All my knowledge will die with me. Now my purpose is to destroy my own children."

Elaine couldn't let her think like that. She never lost a companion, not to an enemy and never to themselves. She stepped up beside Samara, offering her undying support in this quest in whatever way she could, even if Samara hadn't asked for help. "There's no cure? No way to help her?"

"We are an advanced species, but we don't have magic. When the trait manifests at maturity, it is too late for medication. It only occurs in purebloods like myself. Perhaps that is the root of the stigma regarding asari-exclusive pairings. I don't know."

"And you blame yourself for this?"

"I bore my daughters into this world. My choices caused their suffering. And I've hundreds of years left to live with that…" a lump choked the Justicar and she had to close her eyes to clear it away. "I say too much. Forgive me."

"Samara, I'm sorry you–"

"I do not want pity, Elaine, I do not accept it." said the asari warrior fiercely, stepping away from Elaine's offered hand. The sting of her actions was subdued, however, when she turned back and spoke softly once more. "My daughter's condition is my fault. And my redemption lies in killing her. I will fight and struggle all my life. That is my fate. When I die, it will not be in bed. I am at peace with that."

A few more days went by as the Normandy cruised through the stars towards its next destination. Shepard had set their course for a small uncharted world where miners were being held captive by Blue Suns mercenaries, a mission Zaeed had a personal investment in. It would take them two more days to reach it, and for the time being, the crew of the Normandy were content to make sure their ship was running as perfectly as can be. In that time, Elaine was finally given a clean bill of health from Dr Chakwas. Though she still seemed reserved to do so, the older woman could not deny that Elaine had healed quickly and well, and was deemed fit for duties once more. The Warden could not have been happier with the news. Attempting to reclaim some semblance of normal felt essential to picking up the pieces of her old life and forging a new one here.

To celebrate, Elaine found her way down to Engineering, and after checking in with Grunt for half an hour, she went to find Tali, bringing the Quarian a wrapped-up lunch, as she'd skipped the noon meal. She was prone to do that sometimes when she got too engrossed in something – Garrus was exactly the same. When Elaine had finally managed to pull the Quarian out of her work, the pair ate their small 'protein-bars' and began chatting and talking. Tali's easy-going nature and her want to laugh made it easy to forget one's problems with her.

But Elaine should have known better than to think the Quarian would ignore the Ogre in the room. "You doing alright, Elaine? I know you're all cleared now, but… you know, I know it can be… hard."

"It is," Elaine murmured, fiddling with the wrapper in her fingers with the sudden need to urge to be doing anything with her hands. "But I'm getting through it."

Tali nodded. "When my mother died, my father grew more distant than usual. I didn't have anyone… well, except Aunty Raan, that is. So, I know what it's like, being on your own."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that Tali, I truly am."

"Mother wouldn't want me to be sad for her all my life. So I just take the quiet moments sometimes, you know, to remember." Leaning a hip against her workstation, Tali crossed her arms and stared into the distance. "When we lived on the Homeworld, our forefathers used to make V.I imprints of deceased loved ones. It helped to keep them close, to believe their wisdom never left us. When the Geth rebelled, the ancestor-databanks were destroyed. Now, we instead like to have holo-images. My one of my mother's is still aboard the Flotilla. I hope I can get it back someday."

"You will."

Their talk was interrupted when they heard a commotion from the other side of the room. Ken and Gabby, talking amongst themselves, were powering down their consoles and making their way off for a break. Elaine and Tali watched them, fascinated at how the two stood so close together, leaned into each other when one of them talked. Ken suddenly stopped them, a somewhat serious expression on his face.

"Gabby, you'd say the Normandy is a she, and not a he, right?" he asked in his thick accent.

"Of course," Gabby shrugged and stroked a panel of the wall beside her lovingly. "The Normandy is the sweetest girl there is."

"And EDI's a she. Tali's definitely a she."

"What are you getting at Kenneth?"

"I'm just saying I'm feeling a wee bit threatened here. A lot of female energy. And I'm just one man."

She snorted and punched his shoulder. "You're such a dick."

"See! Look where your mind went," he complained warily, as if Gabby were about to jump on him at any moment. "I've got to watch out for myself."

Gabby laughed and pushed him out towards the door.

Tali chuckled to herself as she watched them leave. "You know, I think those two would be really good together,"

"You think?" Elaine asked, brows raised.

"Yeah, if they ever stopped bickering long enough to work it out themselves."

"Speaking from experience, Tali?"

"No," she said quickly, and if Elaine could look through that pink helmet of hers, she was sure the Quarian was blushing. She looked down and fiddled with her fingers as she often did when nervous or flustered. "The most intimate Quarians can be is when we want to link our suit environments. Sure, we get sick at first, but then we adapt. It's our most important gesture of trust, of acceptance. I haven't trusted anyone enough for that though… except, well, no Quarians. You know what I mean."

"Must be quite the man to impress you so much, Tali,"

"The best man I've ever known…" she sighed almost dreamily. Elaine cocked a brow, and Tali realised what she'd said. "O-Of course, I don't know how that would work. I mean, I don't even know if he sees me that way. A-And, I could get sick! No, I should just–"

"Tali," Elaine reached out and grasped hold of the other woman's hands, effectively silencing her. "If this man is half as decent as you think he is, then he will see you, and appreciate you for the amazing woman you are. Just give it time. No one ever fell in love without being a little bit brave."

She let go, and Tali nodded, her glowing eyes beaming behind her mask. "Speaking of which…" came her voice slyly as a sudden and – dare Elaine think it – mischievous look appeared in those same eyes. "You ever gotten… what's the human word? Cosy? Yes! Have you ever gotten cosy with a man?"

"I wouldn't say so. The Blight offered me little time to distract myself with frivolous things like romance."

"But you're not in the Blight anymore. Come on, Elaine, I've seen you getting close to a certain someone."

Elaine leaned away from her surely-smirking friend, wondering if it were possible Kasumi or someone had done something to the real Tali that had boggled her brain. "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

"Keelah, both you Bosh'tets are blind!" Tali hissed.

Catching the time on Tali's work-station, Elaine hopped off of the counter she'd been sat on. "I have to go, Tali. I promised Garrus we would start sparring again. Frankly, after so much rest, I feel like I need to release some tension."

For some reason, Tali started giggling like teenaged girl. "Just remember not to go for the waist this time,"

"What? Why?" Elaine asked, confounded at such an odd thing to say.

"Turians find things a little… exciting, when you touch them in certain places."

"And the waist is one of them? How so?"

"When I watched Fleet and Flotilla, they said Turians find waists kind-of attractive. The area isn't covered in plates, so it's more sensitive. Or so I'm told."

"Uh-huh."

"Oh! And don't touch beneath his fringe, unless you want to really get him worked up!"

"Yes, I'm sure this is completely legitimate and not a pull on my leg, whatsoever." She muttered sarcastically.

Turning to stroll back out of the doors towards the elevator, Elaine was most surprised when she nearly ran into a collision with Dr Chakwas and Kelly Chambers who were just stepping out of the elevator. The three women barely managed to avoid knocking into each other.

"Miss Chambers, Dr Chakwas," Elaine nodded to each of them in greeting. When they didn't immediately step aside for her, she frowned. "What can I do you for?"

"We were hoping to speak to you, Elaine." Kelly said, her voice filled with pity. "It's about what happened."

"B-But you said I was recovered, Chakwas," Elaine snapped her gaze to the grey-haired woman, her eyes pleading that the pair of them not drag this out. Honestly, all she wanted was for people to not treat her like she was going to break. She wanted to be able to laugh again, talk again, without that cloud hanging over her. And Kelly and others trying to extract information out of her only threatened to send her backwards. "Anyway, I'm supposed to be sparring…"

"Elaine," Chakwas' voice was firm, as she blocked Elaine's attempt to bypass them. "It's one thing to be physically fit for duty. It's another thing to be mentally fit. I think all three of us need to sit down and talk about how you're doing. We need to help you move on."

They would not let her go until this was done. Resigning herself to her fate, Elaine sent a message to Garrus via her omni-tool that she wouldn't be able to make it (Tali had managed to teach her during her sick-leave how this magical messenger system worked). With a defeated sigh, she nodded, and the other two women led her back into the elevator and back to Deck 3. In the Medbay they all set up their seats and began to talk. Kelly led the session mostly, trying to coax Elaine into talking about what she'd gone through, how she felt about everything now, and what this was doing to her mind and emotions. Though it felt invasive and pointless at first, Elaine slowly began to concede that talking through everything aloud helped to find hidden truths of it all that her mind hadn't fully settled on herself. She spent over two hours in that chair, talking with Chakwas and Kelly. And while she'd thought they might've made progress, the three of them cam to an arrangement to keep this up as a weekly thing.

Meanwhile, on Deck 2, Mordin poured himself into his research. Mainly looking at the samples and data he'd gathered from Thedas. The endless research opportunities imbedded in this stuff had even his head spinning. There was more than enough here to keep him busy for the time being, and he might even throw himself into this work properly when Shepard's suicide mission was complete.

Yet, even as excited as he was by the chances for new knowledge he was presented with, Mordin was not ignorant of the goings-on in the ship. He'd heard of Elaine's break down, had heard of her recovery. It sent a little slice of guilt into his stomach. Though he and Elaine hadn't seen eye to eye, he knew he couldn't fault the young woman or wish any of this harm to befall her. Though she was uneducated and wilfully ignorant in his opinion, her heart was always in the right place.

Out of curiosity he compared the Thedas samples to the old data he still had on Elaine's blood. Some part of him kept coming back to his comparison. He felt sorry for Elaine, for the condition he knew was the probably the root of all her woes. A stray thought passed through his mind, which then seemed to catch, ignite, and a wild theory pressed him like a challenge. Immediately, he began to draw out various pieces of equipment and began to run a few basic tests and simulations.

No, Elaine and he didn't agree on a lot of things. But he was a doctor. He helped people. That was his purpose. Someone was sick, and he fixed it. It was his nature. He'd done it a thousand times before, and he would continue to do so again. There was no guarantee he would be successful, or if he ever did get results, that he would be able to produce them in any quick amount of time. But it was a project to do on the side, to see if maybe, someday, he might be able to form a cure for the taint…

Author's Note: Wow! This Story has already got nearly 200 reviews? Can I just say all you guys are bloody awesome! Thank you so much for all the support and love. I really appreciate every thing you guys do.

On a side note, I want to declare that Thane's interaction with Elaine in this chapter is purely Platonic. There is nothing romantic involved. Though I personally love Thane, and his death in ME3 makes me cry nearly every single time, I never really bought into his romance. More than likely because he was talking about his DEAD-WIFE who he's still obviously in love with, right before Fem-Shep is given the opportunity to make a pass at him. Sorry, but I much prefer Thane as a mentor/friend/father figure. Just thought I'd make the clarification so that nobody gets their knickers in a twist.

A little announcement: For the next two weeks or so, I'll be taking a short break from this story. Mostly to update (and hopefully FINISH) at least one of my other stories, work on my own original writing, and also visit my family back home. Don't worry, I will be back soon enough. Early April at the very latest. Until then, I hope you guys are doing great!