A/N: Before Raven Sinead gives me more shit for it, the layouts for letting you know the POV of each chapter is completely stolen from her. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, yes?

Also she is awesome and betas this stuff for me so fast.

Ashley

"Ashley."

Ashley turns. She does not know what she has been doing up to this moment, but it does not matter. That voice…

"Dad?"

"Hey, kid." He is smiling, his pale skin smooth, his body muscular, his hair thick and dark just like her own. It has been years since she has seen him in such detail, but never like this. It is almost as if he exists as he did in his youthful prime, when he married her mother and Ashley was barely a twinkle in their eyes. Before life had dragged him down. Before he was blacklisted for his father's supposed crimes. When his life, his marriage, his career, was still full of hope.

"Dad!" She rushes to him, being swallowed up in his embrace like always. The smell of his cologne is the same as it always has been, and it washes over her, associated with warmth and hugs and compassion, and the occasional tough love he doled out when necessary. She smiles, burying her face in his chest. Ashley is tall and strong, but her father is taller and stronger, and Ashley always felt insufficient trying to stand in his stead for her family, her little sisters.

She realizes then that this is not real. Standing back, she looks up into his brown eyes, a mirror of her own. "Dad, you…"

He nods, his happy look getting just a little sad. "I know, kid, I know."

She is frustrated. It is not fair that she cannot enjoy these dreams, this time with him, without making the realization that it will not be real when she wakes up. "Why?!"

He shrugs. "Because that's what happens sometimes, Ashley. Sometimes, people die. You know it – you signed up to die in the line of duty should it come down to it. And you nearly did, kid."

An image of a cybernetic hand coming for her face flashes before her eyes. "I… You mean I made it?"

He grins, nodding. "You did. And you're gonna get married, and you have one proud papa, Ashley."

"Sam…"

"Yes."

She smiles. She's gonna marry that girl.

"Ash?"

Ashley looks up again, focusing on her father. "Yeah?"

"Stop scaring her, okay? I always regretted doing that to your mother. I hurt all of you because I wasn't careful enough. And… remember who your true friends are."

He was disappearing, his form no longer tangible. Or was it her own vision that was fogging? "Dad! Wait!"

"You have to go now Ash. But think about what I said. And know that I wish I could've met them."

"Who?"

"All of them, Ash. Everyone important to you."

Ashley opened her eyes to unfamiliar surroundings. She blinked a few times, finally attempting to turn her head, only to find that it was stuck staring straight ahead. Trying to sit up made pain course all the way through her body.

"Fuck," she whispered, feeling her throat sore and dry. She could move her arms and legs, though, so she supposed that was a good thing, since the thing immobilizing her head meant some kind of neck or spinal injury. Moving her arm, she found a hard casing on her wrist, holding it straight and immovable. It was awkward, but she did remember the crack and shooting pain when that damn robot kicked her pistol out of the way.

"Dammit," she murmured, realizing the gun was probably gone. "I liked that pistol…"

The door suddenly slid open, washing the dim room in bright lights, and it was through squinted eyelids that she looked up at the person entering.

"Oh, you're awake! I'll go get the doctor!" The asari disappeared. A nurse maybe? Where the fuck am I, anyway? This is obviously not the ship's medbay…

Her answer came rather quickly. "Commander Williams! I am so glad to see you awake!"

"Doctor Michele?" Ashley asked, recalling the woman from her first visit to the Citadel three years before. She had first spoken to Garrus because of the excellent shot he'd taken, killing the thug who'd been holding a gun to this woman's head. She'd come so far since then…

The doctor smiled. Her French accent was thick as she spoke English, as it was just the two of them in the room – no need to speak the Galactic Standard language used when members of other species were around. "Yes, hello, Commander Williams. Congratulations on the promotion."

Ash blushed. "Uh… thanks, Doc. So I guess this means they took me to the Citadel?"

Dr. Michele nodded. "Yes. I see there is little loss of cognitive function, if any. Do you remember what happened?"

Ashley frowned. "That Eva Coré… she was actually a mech. Sophisticated tech. She- it jumped out of the shuttle it crashed in and it came for me. It took me by the face, Doc. Particularly brutal, if you ask me – our body's weakest point is that part of the spine."

Dr. Michele hummed. "It is true. But it is an efficient way to kill someone, with very little mess. I am honestly surprised you survived. Commander Shepard mentioned that you held yourself up with your uninjured arm. You nearly tore the muscle from the bone saving your own life, Commander Williams. But even with your efforts, your assailant broke your neck. Your comrades thought well on their feet, locking up your armor and activating the head-stabilizing feature to keep you from moving. They saved you from further injury."

Ashley was quiet for a moment. She had come very close to death. Shepard, Liara, and Vega had saved her. Suddenly, she had a desperate need to see Samantha. "Where are they now? There's someone I need to see. I need to… I just need to see her."

Dr. Michele's expression sobered. "The Normandy is no longer docked at the Citadel, Commander Williams. I am sorry. I hear that Commander Shepard's Spectre status has been reinstated, and I'm sure, with this war, that she has quite a lot to do. They couldn't wait for you to awaken, I'm afraid."

Ashley's heart fell. Sam was on that ship. She suddenly remembered the dream she'd woken from. She'd long ago accepted – but never discussed with anyone, not even Sam – that those particular dreams, the ones in which she realized her father was dead, were the ones in which he was truly there, truly communicating with her. He'd said he was proud. He'd said he approved of her marriage plans.

He'd told her to stop scaring the shit out of her fiancée.

And now her fiancée was on a starship, having never served in combat, with a bunch of people she didn't know, doing God-knew-what with Shepard at the helm, and Ashley couldn't keep her safe.

"Fuck."

"I am sorry, Commander Williams. Perhaps you can try to contact the ship later? In the meantime, your visitors left you gifts. They are on that table. You may look through them after I check you out, yes?"

Ashley's eyes immediately landed on the table next to her bed. As Dr. Michele moved her arms and scanned every inch of her body, Ashley merely stared. There were only two things. One was a book – old, made with paper, the kind in which she loved to bury her face and just inhale the smell. The other thing was a datapad.

"I like your progress already. It will be a few days before you can sit comfortably, but we can probably have a therapist come in starting tomorrow to stretch out your legs and arms. Pull you in all sorts of directions, yes?"

"How long will the halo be on?" she asked, already sick of not being able to turn her head.

"Ah, yes, that. Technically, the vertebrae are healed, though it is tender and there is still some inflammation. But the doctor who performed the surgery was an old friend of yours, Karin Chakwas. You know her, yes?"

Ashley grinned. "Yeah! Chakwas is great."

Dr. Michelle smiled, holding out a hospital gown. "The sentiment seemed to be mutual. She has joined Shepard's crew now, but she seemed to feel the braces were necessary for you for the next several days. Something about stubborn marines trying to do too much too quickly?"

Ashley laughed, pulling awkwardly until she could tie the gown into place. True clothes would have to wait until the halo was off. "Yeah, she's probably right. I've seen Shepard get a good few dressing-downs from that woman for trying to get up and moving too quickly. I got one, too, once."

"Yes, well. She instructed me not to remove the casings for at least two days, and I will follow her lead on this. I am sorry – I am sure they are uncomfortable – but it is probably for the best."

Ashley sighed. "It's all right, Doc. This is cake compared to some of the situations I've been in."

"Yes, combat is uncomfortable, I hear," the doctor joked.

Ashley snorted. "Understatement of the year."

Packing up, Dr. Michelle turned to go. "I will leave you alone so you may finally see what your visitors left. But do not hesitate to call for someone should you feel anything more than the discomfort or pain you feel at this moment, yes?"

Ashley nodded, only to be stopped by the brace holding her head still. Sighing, she answered, "Sure thing, Doc."

The second the door swished closed, she had the book in her hand. Scrawled on the inside of the hardcover was a note in familiar handwriting.

"Hey, Ash. I'm glad you'll be okay. Hope this helps keep you from getting too bored.

-Miriam"

Smiling, Ashley opened the book at random and buried her nose in it, inhaling sharply. The smell brought her immediately back to the first book of poetry her dad gave to her. Flipping it over, she finally read the title: The Complete Works of Alfred Tennyson. The gift made her heart pang with guilt. Her father's favorite poet.

Yeah, okay. I'm still pissed, but I can't doubt this is actually Miriam anymore.

Setting the book aside, she picked up the datapad. There was a password required, the prompting question simply saying "Nickname?"

Ashley furrowed her brows. What? Nickname? What the…

Suddenly it occurred to her, and with a smile, she entered, "Doofus."

"So you figured it out. I'm proud of you. It's important to marry someone who can at least remember what she called you the first time you slept together. And myriad times after that.

I can't even describe how happy I am you'll be okay. With everything happening… Bloody hell, I don't know what to say. I don't know when I'll get to see you again. I don't know what communications will be like. I don't know anything, Ashley. I'm going to try to get a hold of my family, and yours. Hopefully I'll have more news when we can speak. You know, whenever that will be.

I don't know what else to say. I love you. So much. And so far, you've kept your promise. Just… just don't scare me like that again, okay? With all this uncertainty, I kind of need to know I'll have you to return to.

Now get me a ring, dammit.

Love,

Sammy"

Ashley choked out a sob, getting it under control quickly, looking around to make sure no one could see her. Sam hadn't said it explicitly, but Ashley now knew she'd seen it happen, probably through Shepard's helmet camera. It was standard procedure, after all – someone had to see what was going on down there, and it made sense for it to be the person in charge of communicating with the ground team. That meant Sam, at least for that mission; no one else on the ship at that point was qualified.

Her sweet, beautiful, unsullied-by-combat fiancée had been given the worst introduction imaginable, watching as the woman she loved was beat to within an inch of her life. God, she must've felt so helpless, and useless, just watching.

That's when she remembered the last thing she'd heard: Sam shrieking her name over her radio. Holding the datapad to her chest, Ashley began to cry, no longer caring if someone saw. She didn't know anything – if her mom was alive, if her sisters had made it, if she would ever serve on the Normandy again. She knew nothing, the world was going to shit, and she couldn't have the one source of comfort she was desperate for.

So she cried and cried until she was spent, finally falling asleep once more.