Shepard's head ached from trying to reconcile her memories as the dreams they apparently were to what Dr. Chakwas and everyone on her limited visitors list said had happened. The disparity between her dreams and reality frightened her; the elaborate fabrication she had crafted for herself was…terrifying.
Apparently, Ghur had saved her, and he was now being treated at Huerta Memorial, which was back in business, being a proper hospital.
Anderson was alive, though she hadn't been allowed to speak to him yet.
Vega was limping around.
Alenko was recovered enough that Dr. Chakwas and Councilor Burns had reminded him he had a job to do and practically kicked him off the ship during the work day.
That left her most often with Bakara and Jia as caretakers, Dr. Chakwas having been transferred to Huerta where the need for medical providers was greatest.
It surprised her to learn that Wrex had approached the Primarch about having Bakara flown in especially so Shepard could have 'real family' at her bedside. It was comforting to have the krogan nearby, to hear the chants and prayers murmured throughout the day. Bakara was a good sort to have by one's sickbed.
And Shar, who had come with Bakara (both women looking a bit thicker around the middle than Shepard's memory of them), was cheerful. Grunt had already discovered Shar's presence and took great delight in walking her through the rubble-filled streets of London, or the Citadel. If Shepard saw how much needed to be rebuilt, comparing cities to her memories of them, Shar saw only the great potential for building.
It's such a soft world, Shepard. It will grow back quickly and be beautiful again!
Bakara agreed.
Shepard hated being laid up, although she had to admit that this wasn't actually the worst she'd ever been hurt. That time she'd dropped a building on her head had been the worst but for Alchera. And while the injuries were extensive…they weren't really extreme.
You just need to rest so you can start recovering. We'll rehabilitate you in stages, because right now it's easier to say what's not damaged. Don't worry.
She hated it when Dr. Chakwas said 'don't worry.' It sometimes gave Shepard a weird shivery feeling that maybe Dr. Chakwas was worried.
She found she slept a lot. No one commented, and it had taken a few days for her to realize that she'd been fading in and out of consciousness, because Bakara or Shar or whoever was sitting with her would restart conversation where she'd tuned out.
She wondered if it was a ploy to encourage her to sleep and not to fight it, keeping her isolated from the idea of time.
But Miranda had finally declared herself finished, and Shepard could sit up without too much discomfort.
Less than a week, and Shepard was bored with being laid up. Bored, but still working on her grasp of reality.
No one seemed to think it strange that she'd had hyper-realistic dreams while unconscious. She'd only talked about those to Bakara, Dr. Chakwas and Miranda. No one but her seemed to think them troubling.
But it had all seemed so real, unlike any dreaming experience she'd ever encountered. She shivered inwardly, and again avoided studying the matter too closely.
There were now moments when she found herself suddenly staring idly at nothing, as if her brain had tripped a circuit or something. There was no pain, just a sudden disconnect or break-off that left her staring blankly into thin air with nothing on her mind. It should not have distressed her as much as it did, these vague moments…
Everyone else seemed to think it was just a result of being tackled and rolled by a krogan.
She wanted to find Ghur and thank him, but she wasn't allowed to leave the medbay. She'd already tried to get up and be up—Miranda frowning in a 'you'll figure it out faster this way' fashion—only to collapse on legs that weren't ready to take her weight, on hips that screamed through the painkillers, and muscles all over that protested work.
She looked forward to mealtimes, now she was awake for them. One benefit of being on the Normandy was that someone was always available to share the meal—and because those people tended to be on the ground during the day, they could tell her about cleanup, about progress, about everything going on outside the medbay.
She also suspected these accounts were carefully censored so as not to burden her with too much bad news, but she appreciated the thought. She'd spent nearly a year reading almost nothing but bad news. She could handle an overdose of uplifting, hopeful, positive news. Who was rebuilding. What teamwork was still in effect. How the damages to the galaxy differed between what her dreams prepared her for versus what really happened.
The geth and EDI were alive…most of them. The ones who had actualized the most. EDI had a theory that in becoming less like the Reapers, in developing as individuals, they had become less reliant on the Reaper Code. Like the original code was a trellis. But, unlike a plant with a trellis, capable of sustaining its own weight once the trellis was removed.
Joker usually spent the nights with EDI in the AI Core.
Alenko spent the nights on one of the other medtables.
It brought Shepard's wandering attention back to the kayaking trip they'd planned. That was not happening in the near future. Part of her was disappointed; part of her wasn't sure she was ready for a galaxy without the Reaper War. She hoped she wasn't the only one who was focusing on one day at a time to insulate herself from the sudden change in the galaxy's situation. They'd haunted her dreams and her reality for so long…and now they were gone.
Shepard found her eyes drifting shut again. It was a struggle to calculate how long she'd been awake this time.