Much later, Donnelly was finally out of his hardsuit. Chakwas had injected some kind of self-assembling brace to fixture his ribs. She had then dosed him with some medi-gel and some very lovely painkillers, and instructed him to stay in bed. He was quite happy to do so. He checked in with his staff and the damage control parties to make sure that repairs were going well, and then tried to sleep. That sleep was elusive, since the ground team kept coming in to check on Jack. Even Grunt put in an appearance, looking rather embarrassed as he squeezed his huge frame through the door. When Zaeed came through, he also slapped Donnelly on the shoulder and said "Duck next time, okay Chiefy?"

Finally Shepard came in and chased everyone out, and Donnelly was able to pass out. Jack was still unconscious when he woke, but her skin looked better and she was breathing easily. "Stubborn," was all Chakwas would say. "Such a stubborn girl."

The doctor scanned his side. "Well, it looks like you managed to avoid getting anything important punctured. I would say you're fit for light duty, but I would prefer you stay here for the night."

"Oh Doctor, how long I've waited for you to say that."

She gave him a smirk. "I can see you're feeling better."

"You should get some sleep, too," he said. Chakwas glanced over at Jack.

"I'll keep an eye on her, Doctor. And EDI will keep an eye on us both, right EDI?"

"Of course, Mr. Donnelly"

Chakwas sagged a bit. "I will admit, I am exhausted. You people keep coming up with new ways to make my life interesting."

"Aw, come on Doc. Two cracked ribs? Hardly worth getting you out of bed for."

"Two broken ribs, Marcus. It's a bloody wonder you didn't give yourself a punctured lung, and I don't know how you avoided getting a concussion. Right, I'm off to bed. Please hold off on any grievous bodily injuries for the next ten hours." She left the medbay.

Donnelly sat up and tested his movement. Walking was still painful, but at least he could breathe more easily. He pulled a chair over to Jack's bed and sat, looking at her. Her face was peaceful and composed for the first time he could remember. Underneath the bruises and the tattoos and the piercings, he could see the ordinary and beautiful young woman she might have been.

And now never would be. Her words in Engineering came back to him.

-no more CUTTING-

Jesus and the saints, what had she gone through? What had happened to her as a child?

"Hrrm..." muttered Jack, and she stirred. When her eyes opened, she was looking at the ceiling. She suddenly snapped her head around in panic, taking in the medical instruments and clinical surroundings before settling on his face.

"Jack, it's okay. You're on the Normandy. This isn't a hospital, this is the medbay on the Normandy, okay?"

She nodded, her eyes focused on his face. Her mouth worked and she tried to speak. All that came out was a little croak.

"Don't worry, you don't have to speak. You're okay, you were in shock." She held out a hand, and he took it. She squeezed his hand, hard. Jack brought her other hand up and crooked her index finger to beckon him closer. She gave another croak.

"What is it, Jack?"

He leaned in, and she rose up and put her lips to his ear.

"...you are such an Assface..." she breathed.

He sat back and regarded her, then chuckled. "Oh yeah, you're gonna be fine."

Jack gave a small smile, then suddenly her eyes filled with tears. She rolled over away from him and hugged herself into a ball. Donnelly stood up and tucked the bedsheets back over her. He almost walked away. He thought a little bit more, then sat back down.

"I'm gonna tell ya a wee story," he said. "I used to be a boxer. Professionally, I mean."

"Is that why your nose is all messed up?" murmured Jack.

"Yeah. It's also why my eyes look a little funny, it's the scar tissue around 'em. I used to be a hell of a scrapper as a kid, y'know, football hooligan stuff. Me poor mum put me into boxing lessons to 'channel my aggression positively'. Heh. Anyways, back in my prime I was in the Light-Heavyweight category. It was a pain in the arse to keep my weight in the right range to qualify, but it was all part of my cunning plan, see? Not a very common weight class, so's I could be a big fish in a small pond. And I was doing pretty good. Really good, actually. I was Mad Marcus Donnelly, the Glasgow Hurricane-"

"Get the fuck out," said Jack. She rolled back over to look at him. "You were not called that."

"Swear on me mum's grave. So's I'm starting to think I'm hot shit, and decide that the time has come for old Mad Marcus to make the step up to the big time and be a proper Heavyweight. My first couple of fights, it was no problem. My third fight...oh, sweet Jesus. His name was Narcyz Kowalski. Polish fella, just huge, built like a bulldozer. And tall, I mean, this fucker would give Garrus a run for his money, you know? Nice guy though, he'd give ya the shirt off his back. But step in the ring with him and he'd do his level best to take your head off."

Donnelly smiled, his eyes far off. "So, me being Mister Clever-Arse, I know there's no way to overpower him physically. My idea was to stick and move, right? Float like a butterfly and all that. I was gonna keep jabbing at him, get way ahead on points. If he landed a few, well that was okay as long as I got the judges' decision."

He shook his head. "I lasted ten rounds. It was going pretty well, if I do say so myself. I had one of his straights bounce off my ear...that didn't feel so good. But I'd kept up the jab, and his right eye was almost closed. A few more shots, and I might have actually gotten the fight called in my favor. But then I screwed up. I went left when I should have gone right, and walked into the sweetest right hook you ever saw. I've seen the vid from the fight, that punch was a thing of beauty. Michelangelo would've painted it onto a ceiling if he'd seen it. I don't remember much about the end of the fight, but I do remember the feel of that right hook connecting."

"You lost," said Jack.

"Oh, yeah. It was a knockout." Donnelly gave a brief belly laugh. "Poor Narcyz was beside himself when I came to. He'd thought he'd killed me. I did a few more matches after that, but the thrill was gone."

Jack sniffled. Her eyes were red-rimmed. "So what's the point of your 'wee story'? Powering through adversity or some such bullshit?"

Donnelly leaned forward. "My point is, I've been beaten on a lot in my life. I've been beaten on by professionals. And that right hook from Narcyz is the hardest that I have ever been hit in my entire life. That is, up until about twelve hours ago. Then a wee slip of a girl launched me into the wall like I was shot from a catapult. And then kicked me hard enough to break two ribs right through my armor. You're the new record holder."

Jack shifted her eyes away. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not asking for an apology. I'm trying to tell you that you are not weak. You haven't been that weak little girl for a very long time. I don't...I don't know what happened to you. I don't need to know what happened. I figure there are bad things in your past, but that is your past. And I don't want to pry, you know? I hate it when people pry."

"Me too."

"Yeah, heh, you made that clear. But here and now...now you're strong. And you have friends here, which makes you even stronger. The whole ground team came through here while you were asleep. Hell, even Grunt looked worried. I think he was worried. I can never tell with krogans."

"Why should they care about me? I fucked up, Assface."

Donnelly crossed his arms and nodded. "Yes, you did. It happens. I fucked up when I thought I was good enough to hang with the heavyweights. I fucked up when I didn't do a physical check of your quarters after the first alert. I fucked up when I didn't get EDI in the loop sooner."

Jack rubbed her eyes. "I just...I couldn't stay in here, you know? I can't do hospitals. I can't be around needles." She shivered. "I knew I just needed some pain meds and a place to sleep. And Zaeed had a bottle he wouldn't miss. And when you woke me up, you looked like one of the guards from that place..." She trailed off.

"Okay," said Donnelly. "There's going to be plenty of blame to go around. We'll let Shepard yell at us for a bit, and then we'll all move on and help each other do better. Because we are all a team, and we are all friends now, okay?"

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

There was a long pause.

"Okay," said Jack, in a small voice.

"Good." He reached over and patted her shoulder. "Now get some sleep." He stood up.

"Hey, Assface?" She grabbed his arm.

"Jack, I'm not leaving. I'm going to be sleeping right over there."

"I just want to know...why aren't you afraid of me?" She stared at him in confusion. "You've never been afraid of me. Even that first day, when I was doing my 'big bad biotic bitch' routine. You just stood there. Hell, even Shepard looked a little concerned when I pulled that shit with him."

Donnelly shrugged, and looked away. "Maybe I'm stupid."

"No, you're not. But everybody else looks at me like I'm the devil."

"You're not that, Jack."

"How do you know?"

He looked down at her, not really seeing her. He remembered a black shape and a giant red eye.

"Because I've seen the devil." he murmured.

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Shepard never yelled or screamed, he wasn't that kind of CO. He somehow made sure you knew how disappointed he was, though. There was a lot of back-and-forth, with everybody trying to take the blame for the whole mess. Jack, Donnelly, and even EDI tried to claim responsibility. The AI's interjection surprised Donnelly. "I am not a simple VI," she told Shepard. "I should have realized the danger, and taken the initiative to notify the crew."

Donnelly watched as Shepard pinched the bridge of his nose. The Commander looked at both him and Jack, standing before the seated Spectre in the conference room. Shepard leaned back in his chair. "Duly noted, EDI. Okay, everybody, what are the lessons learned from this fiasco? Jack, I appreciate certain surroundings are stressful for you, but we cannot allow that to impact this ship's performance. I know you have been ducking Ms. Chambers, but you will start talking to her. And the access tunnels are off limits to you as of right now. Marcus, you made the most of a bad situation but you did make several poor assumptions. I will take it as a given that you won't make those mistakes again. EDI, I realize your instinct may be to wait to give out information until asked a direct question, but as of right now you are to consider yourself an equal crewmember. Chime in when you see the need to. Clear?"

"Very clear, Shepard. Logging out."

"Okay. Dismissed, you two." Jack stalked out the door ahead of Donnelly, and he was just about to follow her when Shepard spoke.

"Actually, Marcus, can you hang back a bit? I have someone for you to meet."

Donnelly walked back in, a little curious. He'd heard that they'd picked up a new crew member on Haestrom, a quarian. He had never met one before. Shepard tapped his omni-tool. "Tali, can you meet us in the conference room?"

After a little pause, the door opened and in came the new crew member. She was indeed a quarian, clad in a close-fitting black and purple environmental suit. Donnelly was surprised at how ornate the suit was; it was far from utilitarian. Her head was covered by a cowl marked with intricate tracings. Her smooth purple visor tilted as she regarded Donnelly, and behind the visor he could just make out two shining silver eyes. Donnelly glanced over and saw Shepard smiling with real warmth.

"Tali'Zorah vas Neema, this is Chief Engineer Marcus Donnelly," said Shepard. Tali nodded a greeting. Donnelly tentatively stuck out a hand, then reconsidered.

"Sorry, ma'am," he said, "I don't know if it's proper to shake hands in your culture."

Donnely saw Tali's eyes crinkle with amusement. "Mr. Donnelly, I assure you I'm very familiar with human customs." Her voice had a lovely little quaver to it, apparently part of her suit's speaker system. There was a little light in the front of her helmet that flashed in time with her speaking; the 'engineer' part of Donnelly's brain wondered what sort of purpose that light was for. Tali extended her own three-fingered hand and gave his hand a firm shake.

"If it's okay with you, Marcus," said Shepard, "I'd like to have Tali incorporated into the engineering staff."

Donnelly shrugged. "We can certainly use the help. Even with three people, we're always trying to figure out if something's just not working properly or if the original Normandy specs were wrong. That's on top of dealing with normal wear and tear."

Tali drew herself up proudly. "I can definitely help in that case. I was on the original Normandy during the pursuit of Saren. Engineer Adams and I were able to solve a lot of the ship's...I think you call them 'teething issues'."

Donnelly regarded her with something like hunger. "Miss Neema-" he began.

"Miss Zorah would be more accurate, actually," she interrupted. "But honestly, Tali is fine."

"Okay Tali, do you cook?" asked Donnelly.

She glanced over at Shepard, as if seeking support. "Er..no?"

"That's too bad," said Donnelly. "If you did, I'd have to marry you."

----------------------------------------

Samara stared into the void of space without really seeing it. Her focus was on the small swirling white orb in front of her. Long practice had made this a pleasant and automatic exercise. She remembered the first few times she had tried this particular feat; it had felt like she was trying to support her entire body weight on one finger. The door behind her hissed open. From the clump of the newcomer's boots, Samara guessed that it was Jack.

"Hey, Blue? I know you're bein' all one with the universe and shit, but can we talk?"

"Of course, Jack." Samara gently eased off of her inner control, canceling the orb. The ability to fade out the orb, rather than have it dissipate in a bang, was something else that had taken her long practice to achieve. Samara indicated the spot next to her. The young tattooed woman clumped over and sat, her legs stretched out carelessly in front of her. They both stared out the observation window in silence for a while.

"You kicked my ass, Blue. You kicked it good," said Jack.

Samara nodded. "Yes. Did you wish to set up another sparring session?"

"Nope. You're too fast and too experienced. I could try to be all tactical and stuff, and maybe I'd get lucky. But I know when I'm outclassed."

The justicar was surprised. Her initial impression of Jack was of someone who would never back down, never admit defeat. Someone who would attack regardless of the consequences. She looked over at Jack, trying to really gauge the young human.

"I have to admit," she said aloud, "I did not expect you to say that."

"Yeah, because I'm the crazy she-bitch that everyone has to tiptoe around. I may be crazy, but I'm also self-aware. And dancin' around with you tradin' punches is not going to help me get better."

So she wished to improve. This was another surprise. "You wish to train in my Order's combat style? It may be quite difficult. Humans are physically similar to asari, but my style assumes a flexibility which you may not be able to achieve."

Jack shook her head. "Nah. I tend to be too much of a brawler, anyway. I get into a fight, and I just wanna run in and smash the bastard."

The young woman held out a hand, and a blue glow appeared around it. "I saw you in action, back when we recruited you. I saw you float like a feather. I can slow my fall, if I really concentrate. But even then I hit the ground hard. I want to learn better biotic control. Hell, maybe I could even learn that glowy-ball thing you were just doing. It looks cool."

Samara turned herself to face Jack. The human also turned, and hugged her knees to her chest. "The 'glowy-ball', as you put it," said Samara, "is a simultaneous biotic expansion and contracting singularity, overlaid one on top of the other in perfect balance. It took me fifty years to master."

Jack sighed. "Yeah, I know, I know. I'm too undisciplined, and I won't live long enough to be able to train as much as you have, and all that. But I want to at least try to get better at what I can do, whatever that is. Because helping each other get better is apparently something a team does."

Samara was silent. Jack kept talking, apparently taking her silence as negative. "I know I'm not what you'd look for in a student, Blue. I mean, aside from the whole not-an-asari thing. If we'd met before you swore your loyalty to Shepard...you would have probably tried to kill me."

"I don't ask about people's pasts," said Samara. "And had we met previously, I would have only acted if you had done something in front of me which required action." She paused. "My only concern is that...I sense you have experienced a significant amount of pain."

"Heh. You could say that."

"Past issues can make this harder. Because the most useful technique you can learn involves just letting go. You are powerful, but you use that power like a hammer, like a tool. Your power is not a tool. It is you, and you will only unlock its true potential when you can just act and let it flow through you. You won't need to think about it, or control it. It will simply be."

Samara gave Jack a gentle smile as she continued. "It is simple to say, but much more difficult to do. However, if you can accomplish it then it's the only thing I will really need to teach you."

Jack nodded. "Okay. How long will it take? I don't have a few hundred years to try."

The asari shrugged. "It could happen in the next few minutes. It's not a matter of time, but of making the necessary mental breakthrough. Ironically, my species' long lifespan tends to make letting go of the past harder. And, conversely, I have met several humans who are good at letting go. Your species may call it meditation, but it is much the same thing. Marcus, for example, is surprisingly good at it."

"Assface does meditation?"

The smile dropped off Samara's face and she stared at Jack with narrowed eyes. The human fidgeted, then finally murmured, "It's okay, it's just a...term of affection."

Samara raised one eyebrow. She really didn't understand human interactions, not yet. "Very well," she said aloud. "Would you like to begin?"

Jack nodded, her face tense. She shifted her legs, mirroring Samara's lotus position.

"Excellent. What you wish to achieve is what some call a state of 'no-mind'. You are not asleep, you are not unaware, you simply take in sensory input and let it go through you. Let us focus on the most important thing, the breath. Take a deep breath, as if you are bringing air all the way down to your stomach..."

----------------------------------------

Tali and Donnelly got along famously. He was almost beside himself with glee. The original Normandy had been a prototype, with all of the unexpected problems that came with being the first ship of its class. And the new frigate, instead of simply being a refined version of the original, was even bigger and had a different internal layout. It may as well have been another prototype. But Tali had helped with the original's shakedown cruise, and there had been many modifications that had never made it into the official records. She was a fount of information, all of it useful.

So far, the other two engineering staff seemed to accept her, although Rogers had conspicuously avoided speaking with her. Donnelly hoped there wouldn't be a problem there. It was late at night on the day after their initial meeting, and Donnelly and Tali were still chattering away as they scanned through schematics in Engineering.

"That's the problem, you need T6-FBA couplings here," said Tali. She tapped a section of the schematic. "We put those in the original Normandy, and we were able to cut down our maintenance by eighty percent."

"I always thought there was something off about that whole system," replied Donnelly. "But the couplings we have are what the spec called for, and we can't exactly do research while trying to keep the ship going."

He thought a little bit more. "Do they even make those anymore?"

Tali shook her head. "You'd have to try a used parts dealer, I think."

Donnelly suddenly felt a tattooed presence at his back.

"Hey, Assface, are you and the Buckethead gonna be yakking much longer? Some of us are trying to fuckin' sleep."

"Sorry, Jack. Tali'Zorah vas Neema, this is Jack."

Tali turned a little hesitantly. "Hello, Jack. Um...I think you should know that 'bucket head' is not considered a nice name among our people."

"Whatever, Buckethead. I just had three hours of havin' a perky redhead trying to be my best friend. Ugh, I wanted to squish her so bad-"

"Now Jack," said Donnelly. "No squishing the ship's counselor. Shepard will be very disappointed in you. He will give you the sad look. He may even break out the heavy sigh."

Jack gave him a sneer and flipped him the finger. "Break it up in five minutes or I start pissin' in the corners." She stomped off below. Tali stood in shock for a moment, then turned a questioning eye to Donnelly.

He shrugged. "She's a...real sweetheart, once you get to know her."