Disclaimer: I do not own or make any claim to the Mass Effect universe or the characters contained in this story, all of which are owned by BioWare and Electronic Arts.
Redemption: Come What May
Chapter 7: Rest In Peace...
Consciousness returned to John's mind quickly, instantly making him aware of the larger world around him. His body, however, was much slower to respond. His eyes felt glued shut, most of his body was numb and what little he could feel ached uncomfortably, particularly his face.
With a bit more persistence, he managed to get his right eye to crack open ever so slightly, and it was immediately assaulted by a familiar harsh white glare that could only come from an Alliance Medical Facility; between injuries sustained at N-School and the gene therapy treatments all Alliance Soldiers underwent, he'd spent enough time in them over the last few months to become rather familiar with their appearance.
He really hoped that wasn't an omen for the rest of his time as a marine.
Still, once his sight had adjusted to the strong lighting and the sterile white walls, he began to make out more details. Firstly, he was in a private room, which meant that the ward was much bigger than any ship-board Medical bay could afford to be, even the one on the Einstein couldn't afford separate rooms for its patients. That meant he was either on a station or a planet, but the faint, familiar hum of a Mass Effect Core implied the former. Secondly, he was hooked up to quite a few machines and even more Intravenous Drips. Thirdly, he still couldn't open his other eye.
Willing his numb arm to move in an attempt to get some feeling back into it, he eventually managed to direct it, gently, towards his aching face and recalcitrant eye. At first all he could feel was heavy gauze and the cool, comforting press of medi-gel; then came the pain.
Fire ripped up the left-hand side of his face as the dull ache became an intense throbbing that forced all other thoughts out of his mind. As the immediate intensity of the pain began to drop it was like a portion of his memory had been unlocked and the events of Akuze came flooding back; the loss of the Gallipoli, Toombs, Jenson and Gibson, all of the other marines, and finally his own injury.
He bolted upright and the screaming of the machines next to him echoed his racing pulse as another wave of pain hit him, this time from his torso. Doctors began to rush in and surround him as he writhed on his bed until darkness began to claim his sight once more.
Arcturus Station, Barton Medical Clinic (October 25, 2177, 1815 hours, Station Time):
The next time he awoke, it was much more carefully, with full remembrance of his injuries. He was still in the same room, but he didn't feel quite so weak this time; not as numb either, unfortunately, if the sharp aches and twinges of pain across his body were anything to go by.
Not wanting a repeat of the last time he had tried to sit up, he reached for the nearby bed controls and adjusted it until he was at least sitting slightly up. Next he looked for the call button, but almost as if just thinking about it had summoned her, one of the doctors, a dark skinned, dark haired woman in her mid-forties walked through the doorway, followed by a pair of nurses.
"Good to see you're awake again, Lieutenant, and in less pain this time. My name is Dr. Du Plessis and I'm in charge of your care while you're here I know it's a pretty standard question, but how are you feeling?" The doctor asked as the nurses busied themselves with his IV's and waste bags.
"I've been better," he replied honestly, surprised at how painful his voice was to use.
"Huh, you really must be green; normally I have to spend fifteen minutes trying to explain to you soldier types that 'I'm fine' isn't a valid response when they've got more holes in them than a colander. I'll go get you a drink of water and then I need to ask you a few more questions, I'm sure you've been through this process before."
Shepard nodded in agreement and laid back as the doctor left, soon followed by nurses once they'd finished their various jobs. Taking the opportunity to actually assess how he felt, he found that beyond the general muscle weakness and raspy throat his torso itched and burned in random places along with portions of his legs, his ribs felt extremely sensitive to movement and his face still throbbed and ached.
All in all, he wasn't feeling so great.
Dr. Du Plessis came back soon after his little analysis and John gratefully accepted the provided water, letting the cool liquid soothe his parched throat.
"Now then Lieutenant, are you experiencing any nausea?"
He shook his head.
"Good, how about numbness or paralysis?"
"I felt a little numb when I woke up, but it's all gone now," he stated. The doctor made a note on her omni-tool.
"Any sudden or intense pain?" She asked.
"Just around the ribs on my right side."
"Not surprising since you managed to break three of them. What about headaches? Any memory loss or fuzziness of thought?"
Shepard considered it for a moment, trying to see if there were any gaps in his memory, but it seemed that, rather unfortunately, he recalled everything up until he blacked out.
"No, nothing like that, just a bit of throbbing here," he said, gesturing to the heavily bandaged side of his face.
"I see, we'll have to do some more tests to be certain, but… well it seems you're in remarkably good condition considering the extent of your injuries and the time lost before treatment, particularly if you escaped without any brain damage," the doctor stated as she made a few more notes on her tool. "Now do you have any questions you want to ask?"
His first and most pressing question was obvious.
"Did any of the other marines survive?"
"I couldn't honestly tell you, but we are treating a couple of other marines with injuries that are similar, if less severe, than yours. When we're finished here and if you're feeling up to it, you have a visitor who I imagine could give you a proper answer. Is there anything else you wanted to know?"
But John was still trying to process the doctor's response. At best, it meant that nearly the entire platoon had been wiped out. He had known the situation was FUBAR before he lost consciousness, but the prospect of losing almost everyone… he suddenly began to feel rather nauseous.
Noticing the signs, Dr. Du Plessis grabbed a nausea bag and shoved it in front of him just in time, as his empty stomach spasmed violently, forcing caustic bile out while also contracting painfully on his broken ribs and turning the mild burning on his skin into a thousand needles piercing his flesh.
When it was finished, he collapsed backwards, on the verge of hyperventilating from the pain, as his ribs hurt too much to take full breaths.
"Lieutenant, I need you to calm down. I know it hurts and I'm going to give you another dose of pain medication to help with that, but if you don't get control of your breathing you're going to pass out again and I'm not sure how much more oxygen deprivation your brain can take at this point, so I need you to calm down."
Slowly, Shepard could feel the pain lessening and the rigid muscles in his abdomen relax somewhat. Eventually, his breathing began to even out.
"Alright, that's better. Now, I've given you a muscle relaxant and I'm about to give you a general anaesthetic because you need to rest after that last episode, but when you wake up again, just hit that call button on the panel to your right and I'll come and check on you," and with that she pressed another button on his IV interface, and John began to feel quite sleepy…
Once she was sure that the lieutenant was well under and that there were no more complications, Dr. Du Plessis made her way down to his waiting visitor to tell him he would have to come back another day.
Spying the strongly built afro-european man in the waiting room, which wasn't a hard feat given his Alliance uniform and military bearing, she greeted him with a handshake as he rose from his seat.
"Hello Commander, I'm afraid you will have to re-schedule a time to visit Lieutenant Shepard. He is doing quite well, all things considered, but he just underwent a sudden bout of nausea, which in turn triggered his other injuries, to the point that I thought it best to give him a light sedative so he could have a chance to recover. You'll probably have to return tomorrow if you want to see him."
"Of course, though I would ask that you contact me when he does wake up. In the meantime, what's his prognosis?" The Commander asked in a smooth baritone.
"Very good, exceptional actually, considering the report from your Chief Medical Officer about his original state. He shows no sign of permanent brain damage or memory loss, the broken ribs are trivial to repair and they didn't puncture any organs, the skin grafts to cover the acid burns are taking well and your CMO's work almost certainly saved his eye; so far there's no sign of infection and while we'll have to wait for the bandages to come off to really see how it's going, there are strong odds that some minor laser corrective surgery will be all that's needed to return his vision to what it was. Worst case scenario is some cybernetic augmentation, but that's unlikely, the wound was shallow and didn't damage the retina or optic nerve. I'd say he could be released within a week, depending on the psychological evaluation."
"Well that certainly sounds promising, but what about that nausea you mentioned before, any idea what might have caused it?"
"I think it was probably stress or anxiety, he'd just asked me if any other marines had survived. I had no idea, but I told him that there were a couple of other marines being treated as well, then he started vomiting. Do you have any idea why he reacted so strongly? I've treated a lot of soldiers, and none of them have had such a violently sudden response to the loss of some of their squad."
"That would be because Lieutenant Shepard did not just lose some of his squad; that man up there is the last survivor of his entire platoon and I think the reality of his experience just caught up with him."
The doctor was stunned, she had had no idea the situation had been so horrific.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"
"It was an honest mistake, doctor," the man interrupted with a raised hand, "just... tell me when he wakes up again, he'll have a lot of questions that need to be answered."