Katie thought the ride up to San Diego was entirely too short; she hadn't had any time to prepare or calm herself down. And now, it was too late. She sat beside Zaeed, fidgeting nervously as people filed into the church hall and filled in the circle of chairs in the middle of the room.
She was thankful that everyone else seemed to know each other and all but ignored her.
After everyone was settled, a short, middle-aged woman with dark grey hair stood up and introduced herself as Ellie Fletcher, a veteran of the First Contact War and current leader of the group.
"I see we have a few new faces this evening and," for a moment, she glanced at Zaeed with a faint smile, "a couple of old-timers who haven't been here in ages." She sat down again and gestured to the young man sitting to her left. "Andrew, how about you start tonight."
Andrew, tall, skinny, and about Katie's age, nodded once and stood up. Katie's attention drifted in and out as people stood up one by one to introduce themselves; some gave more information than others; the other newbies seemed almost as nervous as she was and barely gave more than their names.
Finally, Zaeed stood up and introduced himself, though he didn't seem all that keen on sharing either. All too soon, he sat down again. He squeezed Katie's hand and gave her an encouraging smile even as he gave her a nudge to the edge of her seat.
Breathe, Katie. Just breathe.
She stumbled a bit as she got to her feet. "Hi, I'm Katie Shepard and I… um…" She faltered as she glanced around the circle, every single pair of eyes focused on hers. "I'm... um…"
It was too much. Too many faces, too much attention. Just… too much.
Her last words came out on a rushed squeak. "I'msosorryIcan'tdothisIgottago."
And then she ran from the room.


Zaeed wasn't surprised in the least that Katie was on the run for the third time in as many hours; she'd been skittish since the moment he'd suggested the spur of the moment trip.

He got up to follow her after Ellie all but stared him down, but a ping on his omni-tool – a note from Katie that simply said "don't follow me, yet." – made him pause halfway to the door. On the one hand, he wanted to respect her wish to be alone; on the other, he was apprehensive that she might do something rash.
In the end, he decided to stay put until the group took a coffee break, long enough to give her the privacy she wanted but not so long she'd get into too much trouble.
Hopefully.
He tapped out a note to her as he sprinted for the cabstand outside the church twenty minutes later, wondering how long he'd have to wait until she replied.
Apparently, not long. The cab he'd hailed had only just landed when his omni-tool pinged again.
He barely resisted the urge to bang his head against the cab's door as he read her reply: "I'm at the Sidecar."
Zaeed knew the Sidecar very well; in the first few weeks after Jason had convinced him to join the therapy group, he'd frequented the Sidecar after each session, and then gone back to the Argo to sleep it off.
But that had been over a decade ago. In the years since he'd last stepped foot in the place, the Sidecar's reputation had gone from quirky to seedy and beyond.
"Why here, of all places?" Zaeed asked, trying and failing to keep the exasperation out of his voice when he found Katie in a back corner booth ten minutes later. "There's a bar not a block from the bloody church, y'know."
Katie rolled her eyes. "That's why, Z. It was too close. I needed space." She shrugged. "Besides, I've been here before. It used to be a favorite hangout for the marines back when I was stationed here."
"Hmm." He sat down across from her and picked up the tumbler she'd just set down. "And why a bar at all. Aren't you supposed to not drink during your medical leave?"
"I'm not." She gestured to the drink in his hand. "Go on, take a sip."
He gave her a questioning look before he lifted the glass, and took a sniff and a sip; carbonation bubbles shot up his nose and he coughed as he slid the drink back to her. "That is not a Jack and Coke."
She snorted. "Told you."
He rolled his eyes and ordered a whiskey from the tableside menu. "So."
"So."
He sighed deeply. "I'm sorry, kitten. I shouldn't have pushed you to come up here when you clearly weren't ready."
She shrugged. "'S okay."
"No. I should have let it go instead of –"
"Zaeed, relax." She reached out to put a hand on top of his on the table. "I'm all right. I needed to do this, even if I didn't make it through."
"If you say so. Will you be coming back next week or no?"
"Dunno yet." Another shrug. "Right now, I'm taking it a day at a time, hell an hour at a time. Y'know?"

He definitely knew that feeling, all too well. It had been the way he'd gotten through the days, weeks, months after Vido's betrayal. Fuck, it was still the way he got through most days, though not lately. Apparently helping Katie survive this current trip to hell had distracted him from his own demons, if only temporarily.
"Screw it," she said suddenly, making a grab for the menu. "I need a drink."
He snatched it out of her reach. "Why?"
"Because I feel like getting drunk?" She snorted a laugh. "You're the last person I'd expect to judge me for that."
"Not judging, kitten, just questioning. Wondering if you've thought about the consequences."
"What, mixing alcohol and painkillers?" She shook her head slightly. "Doesn't matter. I haven't taken any pills since lunch the day I left the hospital."
He blinked in surprise. "Really? I could have sworn…"
"Never got around to taking them again, that first night at the motel, and then just… didn't take them again." She shifted on the bench to lean against the wall, pulling her legs up to her chest. "It's not like I threw them out or anything; they're still in my duffel if I need them."
Before Zaeed could say anything else, a waitress delivered the whiskey he'd ordered.
Katie snagged the shot and downed it, and immediately ordered a double round.
Zaeed held up a hand. "Make that a bottle and a second glass."
As the waitress walked away, Katie's eyes lit up and she smiled for probably the first time all day. "You're the best, Z."
"I'm sure you're the only one who thinks so, kitten."
"That's probably true." She laughed and then raised an eyebrow when their waitress returned almost immediately with the bottle and shot glass. "Well that was quick."
The waitress shrugged. "Don't need the bartender for this, y'know?" She gave them a quick smile and left. "Enjoy."

Katie was quiet as she watched Zaeed pour whiskey into the glass she'd stolen from him and the second the waitress had brought.

She lifted her glass and murmured "cheers" before she downed the shot and set the glass down, looking like she was a million miles away from the bar, from anywhere. "So, who's Ellie?" she asked after they'd gone through a few rounds, her voice barely carrying across the table. "I mean, who is she really?"
The questions caught Zaeed off guard and he faltered for a moment as he poured another round. "What d'you mean who is she really?"

Katie shrugged but said nothing.

"She's…" He didn't have a damn clue what he was supposed to say; he honestly didn't know what she was driving at. "She's exactly who she said she was, far as I know. She was in the First Contact War, maybe a major or captain, maybe a commander, dunno if she ever said. I know she's a few years older than Jason. As far as I know, she was around when the therapy group started."

"And you knew each other back when you were going to the group yourself?" Katie bypassed the glass this time and took a swig from the bottle. "Is she… a good person?"

"Yeah, we knew each other, in that we were in the group together, nothing more than that. And yes, I'd definitely say she's a good person." Zaeed raised an eyebrow. "Seriously, kitten, where are you going with this?"

Another swig and then her head fell back against the wall. A shrug and silence.

"If you're asking, in some roundabout way if we ever dated," he said hesitantly, "then the answer is no."

Katie shrugged again. "Dunno why I asked, really. Just curious." She glanced at him and then quickly looked away, though he could just make out the blush rising up her cheeks. "And for the record, you're the only one around here who mentioned dating."

"Are you –"

"Jealous?" she said, the single word almost spat out. "Of a woman you knew before we'd ever met who smiled for half a second while glancing around a room?"

Zaeed leaned back in the booth, his arms crossed over his chest and waited for her to continue. She hadn't drunk much yet, but she was already in her drunk chat phase.

Or so he thought.

"First of all," she continued after a couple more swigs from the rapidly emptying whiskey bottle, "what would I have to be jealous about? We're just friends. Right? There's no… nothing between us. Probably," she added in barely audible whisper.

Zaeed chewed the inside of his lip to keep from interrupting. Whether she was drunk or not, it seemed like she'd been waiting a long while to say all this.

"Second of all, even if there was something between us, I don't do jealous." She hesitated a split second before she pulled the collar of her shirt aside about an inch or so and jabbed a finger at the gunshot scar a few millimeters below her collarbone. "This is jealous," she said bitterly. "This, and just about every other shit thing in my life happened because that bastard was jealous." She sighed and slumped down further in her seat. "I'd be lying if I said I'd never thought about us, you an' me, but…"

When she didn't continue further, Zaeed decided maybe it was time to call it a night, if only to keep her from bolting for a record fourth time. That was assuming she could even stand; except for three or four shots he'd had at the beginning, she'd drunk the whole bloody bottle of whiskey herself.

He closed their tab and after a small struggle of wills, he finally coaxed her out of the booth, wrapping an arm firmly around her waist to keep her upright. "Come on, kitten, let's get you home."