A/N: WOW! In the few months I've been posting stories here, I've never had one of my stories hit such a high story count so fast or gotten so many reviews so quickly! You guys are awesome! Anyway, I figured the drama and angst have been getting a bit out of hand, and I know there's gonna be a lot more before this story ends, but I decided to put a little comic relief in this chapter to lighten the mood. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed, you totally made my week! And to the anonymous guest who reviewed the previous chapter, yes, Zack will eventually get the girl, but he's not so scummy and low as to make a move on her in her current state. Have fun, everyone!

Chapter Three

Two hours had passed before Amy was finally released from Medlab. Dr. Franklin had insisted on giving her pain medication to Zack, flatly refusing to allow her to administer it to herself. She had taken the instructions and orders without any protest, which only made the security officer worry about her state of mind even more, then followed him out of Medlab, awkwardly handling her single crutch and two limbs in casts. It wasn't until they were inside the transport tubes that she finally spoke.

"I get it, you know." Zack looked at her, confused.

"What do you mean?" She sighed heavily and looked down, her expression sad yet strangely calm.

"That doctor thinks I'll try to OD," she said simply, then looked up to meet his gaze. The corners of her mouth twitched at the look of concern he wore. "It's not the first time I've had someone handle me like I'm made of glass, you know."

"So…what happened before?" he asked softly, his curiosity mingling with the concern of what horrors her past held. Before she could answer, the doors opened, and she followed him silently to his quarters, where, for the time being, she would be staying as well. After she settled down on the couch, she motioned to him to sit and took a deep breath.

"Josh…he was more my oldest brother's friend than mine, but he was like a brother to me too. It was when my little brother died…I didn't have to say anything for him to know where my mind was. If I needed medicine for a headache, he got it for me himself. Hell, he wouldn't let me touch anything sharper than a butter knife for weeks…so yeah, I know the drill," she finished, looking down at her hands as she spoke.

The silence that followed seemed like a physical weight on Zack, and he took the opportunity to really look at her. Her appearance was a paradox in itself; in a way, the grief and pain made her seem old—but at the same time, the loss made her look extremely young. It was then that he realized he had no idea how old she was, then caught himself wondering why her age even mattered.

"How long has it been?" he heard himself asking. She shook her head, still staring at her hands.

"Ten years…he died exactly two weeks after my sixteenth birthday. It was a car accident," she added, finally looking at him again with fresh tears welling up in her eyes. "He'd just turned seven the month before."

All Zack could do was take her hand and squeeze it reassuringly. Words were lost on him as he tried to imagine the pain that loss has caused her, but after a moment he knew that he never could. It took several moments, but she finally sniffled and brushed the tears away from her eyes with her free hand.

"I need to lay down," she said quietly, squeezing his hand before pulling away. "Can you get me a pillow and blanket?"

"No, but I can let you sleep in the bed," he replied as he stood up, then leaned down to pull her to her feet. However, she pulled away again.

"Come on Zack, I'm the guest here…I'm not putting you out of your own bed."

"You're not—I'm offering."

"And I'm refusing—the couch is fine for me."

"You're injured-"

"It's not my bed-"

"Just take it!"

"No!"

The chime from the door effectively interrupted their spat, and Zack turned away from Amy for the first time to look at the door.

"Who is it?" he asked, his voice slightly louder than what he normally used.

"Commander Sinclair and Lieutenant Commander Ivanova," a male voice answered, making the security officer's eyes widen as he jumped to his feet.

"Come in," he said quickly. The door opened at his invitation, and Amy looked up to see a man and a woman in uniform walk in. After a few whispered words between them and Zack, they looked at her and the man gave a small smile.

"Commander Jeffrey Sinclair," he introduced himself, leaning down and reaching his hand to her, which she shook hesitantly before quickly letting go. "I'm in charge of Babylon 5. This is my second, Lieutenant Commander Susan Ivanova."

Ivanova shook Amy's hand as well, and she noticed her stance was much more formal and rigid than her senior officer's. She had a presence that demanded respect, and gut instinct told Amy that she had done more than enough to earn it. She turned her attention back to Sinclair.

"Amy Steelman," she informed them. The atmosphere of the room suddenly changed, and both Zack and Amy had a sneaking suspicion that they hadn't come just to introduce themselves out of simple good will.

They were right; they had extended their sympathies for her plight, then they had also asked for any information she could give them; her full name, her birth date, names and birth dates of all her family members, her hometown, her high school and graduation date, and any other information that she could provide. She told them everything, not knowing or caring why her past mattered to the commander.

As the questioning continued, Amy's temporary numbness began to fade; even though he barely knew her, Zack could see her calm exterior starting to crack from the strain of now-painful memories being dragged to the surface. Seizing the opportunity at a lull in the conversation, he stood up and faced the commander.

"Sir, I don't mean to interrupt, but Amy was getting ready to lay down when you arrived, and…" he trailed off as Commander Sinclair nodded his understanding.

"Of course…I can't understand how difficult this must be for you, Miss Steelman-"

"Amy," she interrupted, pinching the bridge of her nose with her good hand. "I'm younger than you, and I'm hardly an important person."

"Apparently someone thought so," Lieutenant Commander Ivanova chimed in, her tone making her meaning obvious—someone had chosen her for cryostasis, regardless of their reasons. It certainly didn't make Zack feel better.

"Come on," he said gently to her, taking her hand to help her up. However, she yanked it back.

"I told you, the couch is fine," she grumbled, laying her crutch down beside the couch and stubbornly crossing her arms in front of her chest, wincing when the movement caused pain to shoot through her left arm.

"Look, it's my quarters and I can decide to let an injured guest sleep in my bed," he started before the female officer cut in.

"Amy, you're going to allow Zack the courtesy of being nice to you and take the better accommodations—that's an order." To everyone's surprise, Amy pulled herself to her feet without assistance and gave a full military salute.

"Yes, ma'am," was the reply, stone-faced and completely without humor. A look was shared between the three others in the room before Ivanova returned the salute, after which Amy stood at attention.

"Did you ever serve?" Sinclair asked. She glanced at him before resuming her stance.

"Just long enough to learn respect, sir…United States Army, stationed at Fort Jackson, South Carolina, September 29, 2004 to November 1, 2004."

"Why were you discharged?" The question brought a strange reaction from her…she gave a smile for just a moment, then it wavered as her eyes watered.

"I only found out after I enlisted and arrived on the base that I was pregnant with my middle daughter." Her blatant honesty, combined with the tells of emotion that broke through her mask of apathy, softened the Lieutenant Commander more than anything else thus far, and she picked up the crutch and handed it to the younger woman.

"As you were," Ivanova said gently, then nodded at Zack, who helped her toward the bedroom. After she was settled, he returned to the living room—taking care to close the door behind him—to find the other two waiting for him. "So, what do you make of her?"

"I feel horrible for her," the security officer replied honestly, keeping his voice quiet. "I'm no telepath, but there's no way in hell anyone can fake what she's gone through…the one thing I wanna know is why? Why her?"

"Whatever the reason, we need to find out what it is," Sinclair chimed in quietly, his tone sincere yet edged with determination.

"When you find out what, be sure to let me know!" an annoyed voice called from the bedroom, making all three jump in surprise and chagrin as they realized that Amy had heard their conversation. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Sinclair and Ivanova nodded to Zack and took their leave, which left him alone in the room. In an act that was far braver than he felt, he walked into the bedroom to find Amy lying in bed, staring at the wall with a lost expression.

"So…how you holding up so far?" he asked, feeling completely out of his element. To his surprise, she chuckled.

"At least people haven't changed that much…always the same stupid questions," she muttered. He chuckled at her words as well, but it quickly died in his throat as he saw tears building in her eyes again. Almost unconsciously, his hand went to his pocket, where he'd put her medications. It wasn't time for her pain meds, but…

"You know, Dr. Franklin gave me a sedative for you, if you needed it," he began, but the offer hit a brick wall when she shook her head.

"I don't wanna be drugged up…pain's better than feeling nothing," was the broken reply as she buried her face in the pillow and started crying again.