Samantha

Samantha felt absolutely wretched. Landing on the Citadel had been a blur, James staying with her in the mess so she could at least look at Ashley through the windows of the medbay. It was not a comforting sight, however: the armor was locked in an unnatural position so that nothing would move.

Then suddenly she was being led to the hospital, James with her, still in his armor, moving the crowds for her, getting her into a seat in the lobby. But they wouldn't let her past the doors yet, as Ashley was in surgery. Now James was gone, having to report to the Normandy for something. He left her in the lobby, awaiting news of her fiancée.

Looking up now, she saw Commander Shepard walk in, and shrunk in on herself, looking away again very quickly. Sam was not willing to face her commander right now. She'd broken protocol spectacularly by screaming Ashley's name into the comms, and on top of it she was involved with a superior officer. While it wasn't really enforced anymore, it was frowned upon by some, and she didn't know where Shepard stood on such things. Better to just play dumb until she was better able to handle all the things going on at once.

First priority was to ensure that Ashley would be all right. She could handle anything else once that was true.

Sam watched Shepard approach the nurses at Reception, knowing the commander would be denied access and wondering what she would do when Shepard either passed by to leave, or took a seat to wait. But she never had to decide, because Shepard was heading through the door Samantha had been barred from, and it left the specialist confused.

Getting up, she approached the desk. "Excuse me?" she said, getting an asari's attention.

"Yes, can I help you?"

Sam knit her brows. "Yes, I… my fiancée is here. I thought she was in surgery, and that's why they wouldn't let me back there, but I just saw her friend go back with no problems. So… so I'd like to see her, please."

The asari frowned. "Which patient did you wish to see?"

"Lieutenant-Commander Ashley Williams."

Consulting her omnitool, the asari's frown deepened. "I have no one on her file. We just let Commander Shepard in, but she is a Spectre, and Commander Williams's direct superior officer. I'm afraid I can admit no one else until she regains consciousness or a listed family member contacts us."

Samantha tried to retain her poise. "I just proposed yesterday, so I won't be on the list. But I need to see her, I-"

The receptionist merely shook her head, cutting Sam off. "I'm sorry, I really am, but I simply cannot allow non-family in to see patients at this time, not with the invasions of Earth and Palaven and their wounded refugees coming here. You will need to wait. Please, step away from the counter."

"But-"

"Please step away from the counter," the asari repeated. "There are others I need to help."

Samantha felt the tears starting. "Please! Can't you at least tell me how she's doing?!" Her volume had risen, she knew, but she frankly didn't care at this point. "The last thing I was told was that her neck was broken! I don't even know if she lived through the surgery!"

The asari's expression softened. "I'm very sorry, ma'am, but I cannot. No information is to be released on military personnel."

"But I'm military personnel, too!" Sam sobbed, finally surrendering to the tears and burying her face in her hands.

The asari began to step around the counter, but was stopped by a platinum-haired older woman, spry despite her clear age, an Alliance insignia on the shoulder of her uniform. "I will take care of her. Help the next person," the woman announced, and then Sam felt a hand on her shoulder. "You poor dear. What is the matter?"

Her British accent was comforting, and yet it undid Samantha the rest of the way. She burst out sobbing again, imagining it was her mother comforting her, wishing desperately that it was her mother. She was steered to a corner, her face guided to the woman's shoulder, and then comforting arms were resting around her shoulders, the older woman making reassuring noises. Samantha was struck by how the woman did not encourage her to stop crying, rather seeming to encourage her in the opposite endeavor. And Sam took her up on her offer, her body wracked with great sobs for several minutes, letting out the pain and the fear and the panic she had only barely suppressed for the last several hours before the crying finally slowed.

Standing back, she sniffed, taking the tissue offered by the woman whose shoulder she had just soaked with her tears. "I'm so sorry," she started, intending to apologize to a complete stranger who had been so kind, but she was cut off immediately.

"Think nothing of it, dear. I am a physician, and I take grief and bereavement seriously as part of my job, both as a doctor and as a human being. Now, please, tell me what's wrong. You were trying to see someone, I take it?"

Sam nodded, dabbing at her eyes before blowing her nose once more. "My… my fiancée. She was injured as we left Sol, brought in here, and they won't let me see her." She sniffed, rubbing her eyes. "But they let Commander Shepard in, and I just want to see her, but they won't let non-family, and-"

"I see. And what is your name, dear?"

"Samantha Traynor, Doctor."

"And your rank?"

Sam's heart fell. "Com- communications specialist, ma'am." In her fragile state, Sam stated her title, rather than her rank, but the doctor didn't seem to care.

"I see. So that is why you didn't speak with Shepard as she walked in." The woman nodded, a warm smile appearing on her face. "Well, Specialist Traynor, I am Doctor Karin Chakwas, and I will be the doctor aboard the Normandy. That makes me your ranking physician, as well as Commander Williams'. And, as it happens, she is an old friend of mine. I take it you are responsible for the lovely ring we found attached to her dog tags?"

Samantha's head reeled. The doctor didn't care about their disparate ranks, even though that put Ashley in charge of her? Her nerves frayed, she just nodded dumbly (quite dumbly). "Yes. I… I proposed last night."

Chakwas's eyes turned down in sympathy. "You poor dear. I am sorry to put you through this, but…. can you identify the ring for me? Describe it to me?"

Samantha blinked a few times in confusion. "I… yes. It's white gold, with a few diamonds. I wasn't sure if I should go with something so cliché, but it's her birthstone, so…"

Chakwas smiled, nodded once, and turned. "Right. Come with me, Specialist Traynor. You have just proven without a doubt that you know our Commander Williams."

Her heart hammered into her chest. "Really? You're taking me to her?"

Chakwas turned, a playful smile on her lips. "Indeed, I am, Specialist Traynor. I wouldn't dare get in the way of love, my dear."

The room was bigger than she expected. She didn't spend any time taking in the details, however, as her eyes were immediately drawn to Ashley's form. The sight took her breath away.

"Oh, Ashley!" she breathed, rushing forward.

Ashley lay unconscious, her head in a small halo brace. Her armor and compression suit had been cut away, leaving the lieutenant-commander naked under the hospital blankets. Ashley's face was a landscape of bruising, her lips full of broken blood vessels and dried blood obvious around her mouth from a bloody nose. She had a line running under her nose, supplying oxygen. The sheet came up just past her breasts, her arms outside the sheets, holding the bedding down.

Reaching out, Samantha traced her fingers lightly over the contours of her fiancée's arms, feeling the relaxed muscles even as she put her hands where there was obvious bruising, needing to touch it though not knowing why. Her hand came to rest on an encased wrist.

"She had a broken wrist and neck, a couple of fractured ribs, some slight internal bleeding, and a concussion," Dr. Chakwas intoned, reading from Ashley's medical chart.

"Oh God," Samantha gasped quietly, reaching up and laying her hand flat on Ashley's exposed skin, needing to touch her lover, feel that she was warm, alive, healing. The last time she'd seen Ashley in person, she had been standing upright, tall, strong, holding Samantha in her arms and making her feel incredibly safe and secure, grounded in a world that was quickly going to shit. Now here she lay, broken, weak, unconscious.

"I know it's difficult to see," Chakwas continued, coming up next to Ashley on the other side of the bed. "I can honestly say this is the worst she's been injured, and I treated her a fair few times on the original Normandy. But, the good news is she will get better, in fact is already doing better. We decreased the intracranial pressure, healed the breaks, and have her on some heavy-duty anti-inflammatory medications."

Samantha furrowed her brows, looking up to the doctor. "You fixed the breaks? Then why the casts?"

Chakwas smiled indulgently. "Because I know Williams, and I do not trust her to take it easy once she wakes up. And since you and I will both be gone aboard the Normandy, this will force her to do so, the stubborn marine that she is."

Samantha chuckled despite herself. Shaking her head, she looked up at the doctor. "Thank you, Doctor Chakwas. I don't… I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't happened along."

The doctor smiled. "Think nothing of it, dear. I will leave you here, so that you may say or do whatever you must privately. Let me know should you need something."

With that, Chakwas was gone, and Sam was alone with her fiancée.