"Now hold still." The doctor had a gentle hand, but that didn't prevent Thalassa from wincing in pain. Her wounds were extensive. Burns covered many areas of her body and deep wounds could be found on her abdomen and legs. She'd been shot a couple of times too.
According to the doctors, her under suit had melted onto her skin and it had been a meticulous process of removal. The medical staff frequently told her how lucky she had been to have survived. She didn't want to believe them, she tried to convince herself that they were probably just trying to make her feel better.
It had been almost 5 months since the reapers were destroyed, and a few days since she had woken up.
The first thing she had done when she had become completely conscious was inquire about the reapers.
A sense of disbelief and amazement had overcome her when she was told that the reapers were destroyed. The war was over.
It seemed impossible. Her thoughts had trailed off to wonder about her crew. Garrus, Liara, Ashley, James, Joker... were they all still alive?
Not a single person knew anything about her ship. She had sent a message to the Normandy from a nurse's omni-tool because her own had somehow been damaged. She would have to get an implant for a new one or get her own fixed. Regardless of sending the message, the nurse had informed her that long range comm buoys had been damaged. If the ship was not on earth, there was little chance it would be received.
"Ow." Shepard hissed as the doctor finished patching up a series of burns that originated on her shoulder and migrated up her neck.
The medigel had helped her heal, but her cybernetics had been damaged in the crucible's blast- making the healing process that much slower. Just another reason the doctors would claim that she should be dead.
"Okay. Looks good. We will get you on your feet at 5pm. You'll be ship shape in no time, Commander." He was a kind-faced man, gentle, but sad.
"Thanks, doc. I appreciate it." He left and shortly after, she was up and in session with a nurse for physical therapy. The therapy room was full of people, patients and nurses alike. The room had a wall made of glass that overlooked the war-torn city of London. There were shuttles racing by from time to time and she could see people on the streets. As destroyed as most of the city was, it seemed to be coming alive again. As if the city was rising up from the ashes.
"Alright, Miss. Do you prefer Thalassa?" The Asari gave her a weak smile and accessed Shepard's medical records on her omni-tool.
"Shepard is fine."
The nurse made a note and looked up at her.
"Alright, for today we are going to just assess where the damage is and work on a treatment plan from there. All I need you to do is a few exercises for me." The nurse led Shepard through a series of movements that proved to be a lot more difficult than she had anticipated. She couldn't lift her arms past shoulder height.
It was impossible to even turn her head to either side. Resistance came in her back and stomach when she was asked to touch her toes. The pain was too much- so she resorted to touching her knees instead. It wasn't so much the bodily pain that bothered her- it was her mental state that was hurting her more.
She was stricken with night terrors every time she fell asleep. Being diagnosed with posttraumatic stress disorder by the doctors wasn't reassuring, but it was a road to recovery... or finding new ways to cope.
At any rate- she was ready to be done with everything. She hated to admit it, but she was depressed. Nothing here was easy, and she felt utterly alone in her mental and physical struggles that she faced every day. She continued the physical therapy- it dragged on and she derived no joy from it. In fact, the place seemed to suck the life out of her. How could this be considered living? Granted, she was glad to be alive.
The nurse entered the room during a quiet afternoon on day 153 according to her records. It was August 10th, 2187...
"Miss Shepard, you have a visitor."