After Dr. Chakwas left, Ash got out of bed slowly. The Doc was right, a hot shower would do her wonders. She felt sticky and unclean. Since this wasn't a hospital, there had been no nursing staff to wash her while she slept, so it was something she really needed. Walking slowly to the nearby locker, she took out a towel and standard military issue toiletries. While nowhere near the things she had used on the Normandy, it was welcome nonetheless. Ash locked her room door and moved over to the shower cubicle. She decided to hazard a look in the mirror before she showered. It seemed that a ghost stared back. Her hair was out of its normal bun, in total disarray. Her eyes were bloodshot and there were bags under her eyes. Her makeup had been allowed to stay on far too long. One look at her teeth made her reach for the toothbrush and toothpaste before anything further. Simply doing such a simple task made her start to feel better. The sedatives she had been on were wearing off, which left her feeling more like her old self again.
Making sure the water was quite hot, Ash dropped off her gown and stepped into the shower. The hot water was a simple bliss, and Ash revelled in it, letting it sooth and warm her aching muscles. Eventually her practical side came back to her and she actually started to wash. The soap was harsh, the shampoo terrible and the conditioner nonexistent, but by the end of the shower, Ash felt as if she had washed part of her pain and her former life down the drain. Whatever happened, the old Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams was gone.
Ash gave herself a full body inspection after the shower. Everything seemed fine. Deciding to take the time, Ash shaved her legs and under her arms. The itching feeling under her armpits had been irritating her since she woke up, and look at her legs had her cringing. She felt much relieved after that little bit of womanly maintenance. She reached up almost automatically to do her hair into the bun, but being damp and not in a formal situation, she left it loose. There was no makeup in the bag, but Ash was happy to go without. It wasn't the first time and wouldn't be the last. Taking a deep breath, she looked into the mirror again. She looked a whole lot more human now she had to admit with a chuckle. She had once told Shepard that she liked the sensitive stuff as well, but chose to hide it more often than not. Same thing went for the small comforts woman derived from pampering.
Back in her room, Ash took out plain Alliance casual wear and donned it. The underwear was definitely not her style and felt rough and scratchy after the things she was used to, but it would do. She pulled out a pair of boots and socks, but decided to walk around barefoot a bit. "Probably against the regs, but what the hell" Taking a deep breath, she unlocked the door and walked out. As she did, it occurred to her that she didn't even know the name of this ship she was on.
Ash approached a nearby crew member and found out that the ship was called the SSV Tarsus, a frigate of older and larger style than the Normandy. The helpful crew man also directed her to the mess hall. The small flight of stairs left her head spinning, but not as badly as before. Her strength was coming back. Entering the mess hall, she heard quiet chatter from a few people there. There were nice smells coming from there as well even though it was standard military fare. Ash realised how hungry she actually was. Taking up a tray, she collected a large plate of food and a bottle of juice. As she looked for a place to sit, her eye caught someone in a baseball cap sitting by himself. Joker.
She sat down opposite him and put her tray down. He slowly looked up at her. His face was haunted, a look that she had seen on herself earlier, before the shower. Seeing her now only increased his anxiety, because he believed rightly or wrongly that due to him, Shepard was dead. He had been crying, his eyes were mute evidence to that. No doubt he was also expecting Ash to explode at him. "Hey Joker" "Hey Chief" The awkward silence after that caused Ashley to struggle to say what she wanted to, she just couldn't figure out a way to break the silence. Instead, she slowly started eating, enjoying the feeling of hot food in her system again, even if it was military food. "Ash, I am so, so sorry. My own stubborn belief…." Joker's voice broke off with a choke. He was struggling to control himself. Ash reached over and took his hand. "Joker, it's not your fault. More than you know, it wasn't your fault. It's not even the Council's fault for sending us out there. It is the fault of that damn alien ship and that ship alone."
"You are just saying that Chief, to try and make me feel better" "No Joker, I mean it. If it wasn't for you, we would have been dead after the first shot. Life right now is incredibly bitter, but it is also incredibly precious. Craig taught me that many times, and he showed it in his final actions by helping others before himself. I don't and can't blame you" Joker looked up, and for the first time since she sat down, Joker had a ghost of a smile on his lips "Uh Chief, could you perhaps use some of your fine arts on the gallery staff so that they can get us better food?" Ash could only smile at that comment. The food was healthy, but next to tasteless. They finished the meal in companionable silence. "Thanks Chief, you have no idea what this means to me" "You too Joker, we all owe you a debt as well" "I'll take a permanent rain check on that one Chief" Ashley let out a small giggle as she walked off.
Feeling sleepy but restless, Ash walked back to her room. Instead of sleeping, Ash sorted and packed through the few things she had been able to bring with her during the escape. There wasn't much, but luckily she had all the important mementos with her. With a deep breath, Ash opened one little brown box that she had purposefully left till last. Inside it was a white gold chain, with a Celtic cross on it. It had been a gift from Craig after he had spotted it on one of their missions and had bought it on the spur of the moment for her. She hadn't had a chance to wear it very often, but at least he had seen her wear it once. Of course, she had been wearing very little else at that point, so he couldn't have missed it. Ashley blushed at the thought, but then the sadness was back. She kissed the cross where he had done the same thing and fastened the chain around her neck. She vowed that as long as she lived, she would never take this off. One small part of Shepard would always be with her. He had bought her some other jewellery as well, things she hadn't ever had a chance to wear. Ash decided to keep them anyway, even if she never wore any of it. She could never throw away anything he gave her.
Not knowing what else to do with herself, Ashley decided to look up the poet Dr. Chakwas had mentioned, Dylan Thomas. Wrapping her legs under her, Ash sat at the terminal in her room and logged onto the extranet. There were no messages for her, which was a relief in its own way. She keyed in the search terms and waited. It didn't take long and the first hit was the best of the lot. It contained all of his works, as well as his life story. Deciding to read that first, Ash found herself feeling sympathy for the man. He had lived a long time ago on a very different Earth. Moving on, she read some of his poems. One poem stood out right away and gave her goose bumps and tears at the same time. The poem was appropriate for both her father and for Shepard. How someone who had live over two hundred and fifty years ago could express her very thoughts was downright scary. The poem had no formal name, but was usually called "Do not go Gentle"
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rage at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
After that, Ash found more poems worth trying to remember. She bookmarked these, as she knew it was going to be worth reading when she had a chance. Surrendering at last to the call of sleep, Ash crept into bed. There were no pajamas in her locker, so she slept in her clothes as is. Closing her eyes, Ash said a prayer for Craig and the other crew members who hadn't made it. It just didn't feel enough though when it came to her love, so she added something else, a message for him alone. "Skipper, wherever you are, I want you to know that I love you. You rose me up, cared for me, taught me and helped me. I am just sorry we never had the chance to have more time together as a true couple is meant to have. There is so much I wanted to say, so much I wanted to do with you. I miss you Skipper, my heart is empty. I can only pray that you are sitting somewhere in peace, having earned your rest. Watch over me Skipper, and don't ever forget me. Your love forever, Ashley"