|Present Time|
|Date: 9/15/2184|
|Location: Aboard the Neema|
He shouldn't have been standing.
But he was.
He'd been staring at the mirror for the better part of twenty minutes, looking distantly at where an arm was supposed to be.
No arm anymore.
And there wasn't any getting used to it right now.
It felt like a ghost.
He still felt his arm.
Still felt his fingers.
But, at the same time, he didn't.
His dark eyes, teary from both pain and depression, finally close as he took in a trembling breath. Not having an arm was going to be a drastic change in life style. Under normal circumstances, he would've gone off to get a consult from a specialist and have his insurance pay his way through getting a new one. But he didn't live on a planet.
He lived in a cloud of star-ships that didn't have giant hospitals and specialists for new arms. Nor did they even pretend to have the luxury of having the resources for such a costly surgery. For now, he would have to get by with just his one.
He sighed, wiped the tears away with his only hand, and settled himself back into bed and closed his eyes. Good timing too. Had he been standing a second longer, the doctor would have caught notice of him through the window as he came walking across the hall and turn whatever was left of the hour into a lecture.
"Hey there Juel." The doctor called through the intercom, "How're you feeling?"
"...Don't you have other patients to deal with?" Juel asked with a crass sounding grumble.
"Yes, I do. But you lost an arm. Usually when things like that happen, you're triaged as priority."
Juel didn't say anything.
"Look, Zumi's coming by again to check your vitals. Just rest."
He rolled his eyes. "Right. Okay."
Just before the doctor was about to leave, Juel instantly remembered something.
"Hey, wait."
"Yes, Juel?"
"Uh... can you tell Tali to come by sometime...? It doesn't have to be now. Just... sometime this week."
"Sure. I'll call her."
Juel nodded his thanks. "...Thank you."
The PA clicked off and Juel was left alone again.
Absently, he felt the stumpy end of his long gone arm and winced at the tender flesh. He kept that up for several minutes.
"Look at me Samah." Juel murmured with a blank and emotionless stare into nothingness, "What do you think...?"
Nothing answered him.
He wiped his sweaty brow away before sinking a little deeper into his bed.
"I'm alone again." Juel said quietly.
The visits came less frequently.
Then they stopped altogether.
No one had visited him for a month.
Not Olasie.
Not Enyah.
Or Hiva.
And definitely not Tali.
He'd pushed them all away. Told them every time they'd try to come not to come and see him.
Stupid.
So. Goddamn. Stupid.
The silence that consumed the room chipped his sanity away.
The silence made his blood boil.
Made him feel rage.
"I'm. Alone. Again." He repeated with a tremble.
He grabbed for one of his books and threw it with as much anger as he could and watched the fluttering pages whisk about between its cover before smacking up against the glass wall and falling.
"What is wrong with me?!"
His breaths were shallow and ragged.
He forced in a painful lungful of breath and held it to calm himself down.
Once again his timing was good.
Nurse Zumi came in shortly after and greeted him.
"Hi Juel."
He exhaled quietly.
"...Hey Zumi." He mumbled as he settled himself again into bed.
His back was sweaty.
He hated feeling sweaty.
She started logging his vitals and did a brief physical of his entire body.
He'd long since forgotten how embarrassing it was to your whole body checked over by a female nurse. But she'd been caring about it and did everything she needed to make it comfortable as possible.
"See anything?" Juel asked, "Still good, right?"
"Nothing yet, Juel." She answered, "You're still okay."
"How do I look?"
She gave him an unseen smile and pat his hand. "Better than you were the weeks before."
"You—uh... you busy?"
"Not really, no." Zumi said, "Why?"
He frowned. "I guess I just... could use some company."
"Hmm." She frowned and nodded to him before sitting down on the stool next to his bed.
"Thanks, Zumi."
"Of course Juel. I care about you."
She typed the rest of his vitals on her omni-tool. "So... why haven't your friends been coming to see you? I've noticed it's been a month... I didn't want to say anything because it looks a little personal right now."
Juel held his head low. "I told them not to come anymore."
"Why would you do that?"
"I don't know, Zumi." He faced her with his lifeless eyes, "...I don't know."
They both sat in silence without either of them saying a thing.
She sat at her desk and stared at the small little frayed pieces of fabric around her hands. She'd pick at the strands every once in a while absently, her mind entirely elsewhere.
It'd been a month since she'd seen or heard from Juel. The only way she'd been able to keep up with him really was through his doctor. Other than that, any details of his existence were all but vacant. All she could get out of him was that he was still alive and getting better, albeit slowly.
That and him losing his arm.
When she received news of that, her heart sunk. His life would be different forever. Her omni-tool rang from a text message and she opened it.
|Tali, Juel has requested that you visit him in his room whenever you feel the need. -Dr. Taahn.|
She read the message, and did the only thing she could do. Frown.
He hadn't wanted anybody to visit him this past month. Especially her. Why the sudden change in heart? She grumbled something unintelligible and buried her head in her arms.
The idea of visiting Juel filled her with dread.
Part of her wanted to just... disappear.
To just... run from her problems. Run away from Juel and leave everyone she'd ever known on the Neema behind.
But she couldn't.
She wouldn't.
She tried running away from the Normandy. Tried running from everyone she'd ever known in her past life on pilgrimage.
Even John.
Look where that got her.
Nowhere. And now she was nothing more than a shell. An empty little shell. There wasn't any guessing what running would do to her if she tried it again.
Her life felt like a chore now.
Her life felt like... labored living.
And someday?
Someday it would end.
And if there was an afterlife, she'd join John again in the void.
But there was always this little piece of her. And the little piece told her to just suck it up.
Just deal with it, Tali. You're just being dramatic.
But was she?
She swallowed hard.
No. She didn't think she was being dramatic at all.
John died.
Died in vacuum.
Died fighting for what he believed in.
She lost him. Lost the man she loved forever.
She felt every moment she ever had with him in the span of seconds. Tears came soon after.
Every hug and every caring stare. Every touch and smile. Every laugh and grin...
All the times she'd spent beating around the bush, hoping that he'd finally hear her feelings of love? She regretted that. All of it.
"I'm sorry, John..." She murmured through a trembling breath, "I'm so sorry..."
She took in the deepest lungful of air in her life and willed away the sobs into the deepest part of her heart. She could feel the mass of ice in her chest grow a little bigger. She knew John would never have wanted to see her like this. Not now. Not ever.
He would want her to find solace amidst the pain and to move on in life.
She shook her head slowly.
'Move on in life' she could hear him say.
The words echoed in her thoughts.
And they taunted her.
Wilson took a testing sip and sighed.
"Mhm. Perfect."
"Perfect?" Miranda asked as she turned to him with a surprised look on her face.
"Just talking about the coffee, Miranda." Wilson said with a slight chuckle as he went back to his list, "So. Cranial nerves are integrated. Basic motor and sensory innervations on the face are working... Corticospinal tract conditioned green, and the posterior column-medial lemniscus pathway's good."
Wilson suddenly frowned.
"But the spinothalamic tract hasn't been completely, uh... rendered yet. We're going to have to test its functionality."
"…and what does that entail, Dr. Wilson?"
Wilson gave Miranda a serious stare. "...Waking him up."
Her stare turned cold.
Sensing that she didn't like his answer, he took another sip of coffee before speaking. "I see you don't like that. Do you have any other options or suggestions that could yield results?"
"...No." She answered quietly, "I'm not a Neuroscientist."
She went back to stare at her computer screen.
"That doesn't mean your input isn't taken into serious consideration. You're still my boss. What you say goes."
Miranda stared blankly at the monitor and grimaced slightly.
"Say we do this. What would we be expecting?"
"Miranda. I can't answer that."
"Make an educated guess then, Wilson."
He chewed on his lip before frowning in thought. "Uhm... Primary motor cortex might trigger a…. Seizure? Stroke? Diabetes? I don't know. Like I said, I'm speaking in total hypotheticals here. Everything else, if things go to plan, will respond positively to the Commander's loss of comatose."
"...Will he feel anything?"
He set down his mug and stared at the John's naked body.
"Likely so. It's going to be a very painful and rude awakening."
"What does the spinothalamic tract even do exactly?" Miranda asked as she reached for her cup of tea.
"It overlooks... more callous contact with foreign exertive forces." He explained with his carefully picked out words, "Notably pain."
"For what purpose do we test him under that duress, Wilson? We've tested every other function of his brain without him being awake."
"Pain affects all parts of the brain." He said calmly, "It's going to tell us exactly how well wired his state of mind is."
"There has to be a better way." Miranda said. "There has to be."
"Miranda. Every second we touch the man, is a risk we take. Each of them monumental. I understand the caution you want to take. But no risks? Means there's no progress."
She wanted to argue.
Wanted to tell Wilson he was wrong.
And when she couldn't find a fault in his logic, she'd default into having the entire Neuroscience team decide what to do.
"...Give me a risk assessment then, Wilson. We'll test him when you've developed a procedure with your cohorts."
"Give me eight hours and I'll have it on your desk in the morning, Miranda."
"Good." She stood up and headed for the door, "Good night, Wilson. I'll see you after breakfast tomorrow."
"Good." Wilson shouted as he put on his eyeglasses, "It's your favorite tomorrow. Powdered eggs with ham and cheese."
She rolled her eyes and his sarcasm. He knew she hated powdered eggs with ham and cheese.
She sighed and gave him a shrug. "It's a necessary forfeit, Wilson."
"With the work we're doing? It'd be nice to eat some real shit for once." He said before glancing back to Shepard, "And it's all for one man."
"For humanity." She corrected.
"Yeah. Well... when this is all over? You, Jacob, and I are going for the finest steakhouse on earth. My treat."
"I'll be obliged to accept the invitation when Shepard's alive."
"Good night, Mrs. Lawson. Until tomorrow."
"Until tomorrow." She repeated.
The door closed and Wilson was left by himself for the third night in a row.
He sighed and reached for his mug of coffee and downed whatever was left in four gulps.
Only recently had John been resuscitated back into the living.
Or whatever passed as living.
For all they knew, all they'd done was shell billions of credits to revive a fruit.
Or they'd actually done it. Brought him back just the way he was.
"Either way, we'll find out soon enough." Wilson grumbled before he started his risk assessment paper.