It hurt.

When the mind triggered pain, it meant they were alive. Or alive enough to register feeling. Noemi could assume safely that she was alright. Alive, feeling. She wiggled her right hand. yeah that worked. She wiggled her left hand, yeah that worked.

She repeated the process for her legs. Her head. She was alright. Just a little sore, a little beaten up. It was nothing big physically. She was alright.

She hated that she'd remember seeing what happened in the promo mission. There was such a hate, such an anger rolling off her. Dead bodies and blood. Always that smell of rust.

But it was the lasting image of Shu and Molly and herself fighting each other. Red eyes, rage boiling. Her body had never felt so hot with anger, so blinded in rage. She hated the mission, because it showed a side that could exist. A side she never wanted to be.

And it showed her the weakness she already knew she was. She had tried to stop Shu in her attack. Tried to stop Shu as if she could.

And she had been pushed away, she had been thrown down.

Her gaze moved to the hospital curtain, the thin layer that separated her from the small asian girl. As if the layer wasn't thin enough, it was parted enough for Noemi to see Shu's face.

Contorted with rage and hate. Contorted with anger at her. She broke a piece of Noemi without even knowing it. Noemi's face turned away from looking at Shu, moving her body stiffly out of the bed. Training in the infirmary had allowed her the know how's to get out. She unhooked herself from the monitors and changed into her clothes.

Like the wounded animal she felt she was, she slunk back to her room. Closing the door for now. Locking it just in case. and fell back to sleep.