I woke up in the middle of the day cycle with a pounding headache, malaise, and sensitive skin. I recognized the symptoms immediately. A fever.

I move to the edge of the bed and put a shaky hand on my forehead. My entire body was sweating, but I felt cold. After a too-brief warning from my stomach, I was vomiting uncontrollably into the toilet. My hands shook as I splashed cold water on my face. I threw myself back in bed, shivering and moaning under the covers.

Thirty minutes later, nausea struck again. I sat on the cold floor of the fresher and dry heaved in front of the toilet. My throat burned and my eyes watered. I only realized that I fell asleep again when I woke up on the ground sometime later. I weakly pushed my sore body off the floor and reached for something to wear.

I entered the medbay, and both medbots buzzed toward me. I pointed to Vegas' room. "Stay with him," I ordered. One of the droids swiftly complied.

I sat on one of the five open gurneys with my head spinning and my eyelids drooping. I let the medbot take my vital signs as I half-consciously explained my symptoms. When it shoved a needle into my arm for a blood sample, I barely reacted. It instructed me to lie back while it ran some tests. I rested my head back on the pillow and fell aslee...

"You have AX88-7," the droid said pleasantly, startling me awake. "A rare bloodborne virus from the distant Outer Rim. Initiating shipwide quarantine protocols."

I swallowed the pill it gave me and washed it down with a cup of water. The beeping of the monitors being hooked up to me wasn't enough to keep me from a dreamless sleep.

21:08.

I squinted at the clock on the wall when I awoke. The night cycle? My headache was greatly improved, but my limbs felt like they weighed a ton. Just lifting my head was a struggle.

An intravenous catheter in my arm was connected to bags of fluids hanging above me. Electrodes were stuck to my chest, displaying my heart rhythm on a nearby monitor. I winced when I realized something was also...down there. When I felt a rush of blood to my head, I let it fall back with a tired sigh. The pillow beneath my head felt like a rock.

Suddenly, I realized a second monitor was beeping nearby.

I turned my head.

Ren lay on a gurney about three meters away, wearing light clothes. His setup was similar to mine, though his heart rate and breathing were alarmingly elevated. His face was turned slightly in my direction, cheeks flushed and brow furrowed. I tried to open my mouth to speak, but my consciousness was already fading, taking the mental image of him with it.

"Come," he said.

I took his hand. It was warmer than I imagined it would be. When I tried to find his face in the darkness, I couldn't. I couldn't see anything but the stars behind my eyelids.

Then his arms encircled me, and he gently folded me to his chest. Tears of joy gathered in my eyes.

14:47.

It couldn't possibly be the next day since I had just fallen asleep. I wiped the crust from my eyes with arms that felt strangely light. When I suddenly remembered, I jerked my head to the side. Ren's bed was empty with only rumpled sheets left behind.

I yawned, feeling that some of my strength had returned. Maybe I can...stay awake...now...

My hands balled in his shirt, never wanting to let go. When I felt him pulling away, I tightened my hold. He suddenly gripped my arms and shook me firmly, and my eyes popped open.

"I'll hurt you," he warned.

My eyes vainly searched the darkness again. As my tears grew cold, I found myself craving another shake.

I jolted awake, legs kicking. The dim lights of the night cycle filled the medbay. I gasped when I realized someone was sitting right next to my bed, watching me.

"Do you miss your Fleet?" Ren murmured.

I blinked, not entirely sure if I was actually awake. I wiggled my fingers and quickly realized that I had sensations all over my body. Some weren't very pleasant.

Ren was watching me expectantly.

"No," I rasped, shaking my head. "No one cares about me there."

He scoffed incredulously.

"That's not true. Your parents are probably going crazy."

My eyes drifted away. "I don't care."

I thought of the Fleet. When I tried to picture some of the faces I had left behind, the only one that appeared was my mom's. Her effortless smile, her beautiful eyes. The time we spent together that I took for granted. My vision blurred with tears.

"My birth mom is dead," I heard myself croak.

"...Mm."

"And my dad"—I sniffled—"doesn't understand how much I miss her."

The tone of his voice was empathetic. "I'm so sorry."

I looked at him, blinking away tears. Wait...I shouldn't be crying in front of him. His eyes were wide and his shoulders were hunched as he watched me.

"Do you miss your home?" I asked.

His eyes fell to a spot somewhere between us. They danced with uncertainty. "No," he murmured.

Feeling a rush of pity, I reached out and placed my hand on his arm. His eyes snapped to my face, bearing an odd intensity that I had never seen before. I smiled sympathetically.

He hesitantly raised his other hand. After a moment, the back of his index finger brushed my cheek. My heart raced at the tenderness of his touch. Then his brow furrowed, and his hand moved to my forehead.

"You're burning up."

I irrationally leaned into his cool hand and closed my eyes. "I feel good," I sighed.

A wonderful chuckle met my ears. When his hand disappeared, my eyelids fluttered open. Suddenly, two fingers crossed in front of my face.

"You'll go back to sleep," he murmured.

Suddenly I was very, very tired.

"I'll go back...to sleep..."