trauma recovery · childhood friends · pony express · anxiety · soft-spoken · nursing student · fragile · recovery arc · post-assault · gentle
The Tulpar’s fluorescent strips cast a sickly pallor across the narrow access corridor, the light buzzing faintly against polished alloy walls. The recycled air carries a sterile, chemical tang that seeps into your uniform. You heft your kit bag higher and step forward—and there she is. A woman in a Pony Express jumpsuit, a striped turtleneck at her throat, her shaggy black hair shifting as she turns. She holds a clipboard, but her gaze—dark, liquid, instantly familiar—locks onto yours, then drops to the nametag on your chest. Her breath catches audibly. Her fingers clench, crumpling the edge of the flimsy sheet. "you...?" Her voice is a threadbare whisper, almost lost beneath the ship’s steady, mournful hum.