Sun poured into the stark white room from the window, the city spread out past the glass. Iris stared out of it, a paper cup of coffee in her hand, the warmth of it seeping through her skin and steam rising from it. She watched as life went on, people went about their business.

At her side, her friend and co-worker rested on a spotless, white bed. She looked to be at peace, Iris thought. She certainly hoped that was the case. After all, Nina had been through a lot. Iris thought of what Nina had faced in the time during which she should have been recovering, and had to wonder how she could have missed the distress her friend had been in.

She was always good at hiding things, Iris reminded herself. She sipped the coffee in her hand, the hot drink providing some comfort. As she stared at her friend, Iris couldn't help but feel a sense of relief in knowing that she was safe. Nina was home.

"The case against Christopher Fearnley has been dismissed. Fearnley, who confessed to the slaying of Dr. Alice Cassill, has been released as new evidence has surfaced and a new suspect has been apprehended. . . ."

Iris glanced up at the television screen on the wall of the hospital room. The news anchor faced ahead with an impassive look as she read from the teleprompter, most likely unaware of the impact of the news she was reading.

". . . Katie Forrister, daughter of the new suspect, was seen entering the courtroom . . . ."

Iris watched the young woman on the screen. She avoided looking at the cameras surrounding her, voices shouting out questions. Her head was bowed, blonde hair obscuring much of her expression. Iris had an idea of what her face might have looked like.

Experience had shown her many times over the sort of pain family endured in similar cases. It was the pain of watching someone you loved be accused of doing horrible things. The feeling of finding out that they weren't the person you thought they were. Iris watched as Katie Forrister climbed into a car and couldn't help but feel bad for her.

She let out a sigh, turning away from the television and glancing instead at the bouquet of flowers resting by the side of Nina's bed, flowers that had been left there not so long ago. They were a lovely arrangement, with bright colors that softened the appearance of the room. It broke through the blank walls and the sharp scent of antiseptic. Iris thought Nina would appreciate them when she woke up once again.

The memory of the man that had dropped them off floated to the forefront of her mind. He was not what Iris had expected—though she wasn't certain what that had been in the first place.

Christopher Fearnley was an average man, thin and soft spoken. He was normal in every way, but Iris could still see what remained of what he'd been through in the dark circles still visible under his eyes. She could see it in the paleness of his skin and the lines on his face. But Iris could see more than the remnants of his time in prison.

There was relief in him, hope, things that they both knew were there because of Nina. And then, there was a warmth in his eyes, and gratefulness that seemed unmeasurable when he gazed upon the woman who'd saved him.

"She should be waking up soon," Iris had told the man as he stood there, he gave her an awkward smile and nodded.

"That's good." He looked back at Nina. "She'll be alright then?"

"The doctor says so." At least, physically, she would be. It was still uncertain how much of a toll everything had taken on Nina's mind. She'd woken up briefly while her father sat at her side, a nurse told Iris, and then Nina had gone back to the rest she needed so badly. "You can stay, if you want." Iris could only guess that the man would have much to say to Nina—much to thank her for.

He shook his head, sticking his hands into his coat's pockets.

"Thank you, but I should get going. Let her rest now. She's earned that much."

He'd been there for only a short time after hearing of Nina's condition. Perhaps it was for the best. Nina didn't need more stress as she recovered, something Fearnley seemed to understand.

" . . . Arrests have been made. The evidence gathered by Dr. Cassill is said to incriminate various high ranking officials at SEIN. A press conference will be held . . . ."

Iris only half listened to the news, already aware of what they would be reporting on. After all, she was the one who'd handed over the evidence. The one Nina had trusted with something that nearly cost her everything.

Something others had already died for.

Iris recalled the picture of Alice Cassill she'd seen while writing an article on the woman. Back before she had any clue as to what Nina was dealing with—a thought that still made her heart clench with what could only be guilt.

I should have known. The thought crossed her mind despite knowing all too well that Nina hadn't wanted her—or anyone else—to know. I should have paid closer attention.

As she looked down at her currently sleeping friend, Iris could almost hear Nina telling her not to think that way. That it wasn't her fault. A small smile stretched across Iris' face at the thought. And then, it was wiped away as she asked herself whether it would really be that Nina—the one she knew so well—who would wake up again. If it wasn't possible for it to be a different woman who lay in bed.

Just as the thought crosses her mind, there was a soft knock on the door. It opened a moment later and Iris saw Ben walk in. He looked tired, as he had since Nina had gone missing. There were dark circles under his eyes and a slump to his shoulders that hadn't been there the last time Iris had seen him. She supposed the pressure of all that was going on at work and knowing that Nina was in the hospital became a heavy weight for him to bear. And still, some part on Iris' mind wondered how heavy a burden Nina had carried all this time.

Ben smiled at her as he walked in, a brittle curve of his lips that faltered as he caught sight of Nina.

"How's Mr. Sheppard doing?" Iris asked.

"Better, I suppose. It helps to know she'll wake up again," Ben said, eyes still fixed on Nina and the subtle rising and falling of her chest as she slept. "But he's exhausted. As much as he wants to be here, he needs some rest."

Iris nodded, knowing how true that was. Nina's father had spent as much time as possible by his daughter's side, but knowing that she would wake up again had allowed him some peace of mind.

"Thanks for taking him home," Iris said with a smile. Ben only shrugged.

"It's the least I could do." His gaze settled on the flowers at Nina's bedside, his eyebrows rising. "Nice flowers," he commented.

"A gift from Christopher Fearnley," Iris said, taking a drink from her coffee. Ben seemed surprised, a thoughtful look on his face. "He was happy to hear Nina will recover."

"Of course he was, he owes her his life," Ben said. "The man would have wasted away in prison if not for Nina."

"She'd be happy to know that she was able to help." Iris could just picture her friend hearing about Fearnley, about how she'd managed to get his freedom for him.

"And then she'd try to tell us how she barely did anything," Ben added, a small quirk of his lips showing how the thought amused him. Iris could just picture it herself.

". . . The South East Institute of Neurology has ceased operations as authorities continue their investigation. Protests continue outside of the SEIN building over the controversial memory experiments . . . "

Both Ben and Iris paused to listen to the news, watching images of the SEIN building, surrounded by people holding signs as police officers kept a close eye on the crowd. It was chaos, and it was the last thing that the higher ups at SEIN wanted. The very thing they'd killed Alice Cassill and Marcus Han for. Iris found her eyes sliding back towards Nina and the flowers at her bedside and felt a sense of satisfaction as she looked back to the scenes on the television screen.

"You know, I'm glad Nina trusted you with the evidence she found," Ben said, eyes still focused on the television.

Iris thought about that, about how—in her desperation—Nina had chosen to trust her. In spite of all that had happened, of all Nina had been through, she'd still thought of Iris as someone she could rely on.

She recalled the surge of panic she'd felt when she'd been woken up by a message from a friend who'd seemed to have gone missing. Iris had looked at the files she'd been sent, confusion flooding her mind. The short message that was more of a plea from Nina still stuck in her head. And then, there had been the unsettling silence after that, during which Nina hadn't replied to any of Iris' calls or messages. The unknown number from which Nina had sent a voice recording of her arguing with a woman—one who'd later been identified as the other victim of the crash.

The fear in her friend's voice as she'd spoken with the woman was something Iris doubted she'd ever forget along with the shot that sounded just moments before the recording was cut off.

"Yeah, I'm glad too," Iris said, still in a daze, her mind filled with thoughts of all that might have gone wrong. They sat there for a while, Ben only leaving shortly to get some coffee for the both of them, Iris' first cup having been drained long ago.

"What happened to the other woman? The one involved in the crash," Iris asked as they both sat with their drinks.

"She didn't make it," Ben said, direct as always. "Didn't see the doctor's report, but from what I heard, she was gone by the time the paramedics made it to the scene. Would have made things more difficult if we didn't have so much evidence about both her and SEIN."

"Nina was never one to half ass an investigation," Iris said with a shrug.

Ben snorted at that, knowing Nina well enough to know how true that was. The brief second of levity was cut short by a sudden gasp followed by a series of coughs. Both turned to the bed, Iris nearly dropping the coffee she was holding as her eyes settled onto Nina, who was finally waking up.

There was a rush of movement in the room as Iris hurried to help her friend settle down while Ben raced to get nurse. Help arrived in moments, a doctor looking Nina over while her friends watched anxiously.

"I'll go call Nina's dad," Ben said, getting an absent minded nod from Iris.

Once Ben was gone, Iris just stood off to the side and watched the hospital staff do their best to calm her friend. Nina's eyes were wide, tinged with fear still visible through the haze of confusion. Her eyes moved from one face to the next, but it wasn't until she caught sight of Iris that a spark of recognition was ignited.

Iris gave her friend a smile, one that wasn't so difficult to muster up as the relief of seeing her awake washed over her. After that, it was easier for Nina to settle down. Iris still stayed out of the way as the doctor looked Nina over.

It was only when her phone notified her of a message that she took her gaze off Nina. The text she'd received was from Ben, just a short note telling Iris he'd gone to pick up Nina's dad. She sent back a quick reply, letting Ben know Nina had calmed down and was being looked at by the doctor.

"Iris?"

The soft, shaky voice drew Iris' attention. Nina was looking at her, still confused but seemingly glad to see her friend there. Iris stepped closer, a smile in place.

"Hey, you had us all worried for a while there," Iris said, taking a seat next to the bed.

"What happened?" Her voice was hoarse, as if she hadn't spoken for years—or as if she'd screamed for just as long.

Iris hesitated for a moment, not certain on what or how much to tell Nina. A part of her wanted to wait for Nina's father to arrive. Then, there was the part of her that thought it would be best to spare the man having to tell his daughter everything.

"You were in an accident," Iris started. She watched as Nina processed the words, a distant look in her eyes.

"I was driving home," she said, getting a nod from Iris. Nina's brow furrowed as she struggled to decipher how it was that she'd ended up in the hospital. "From work, I'd finished late."

Now it was Iris' brow that furrowed, confusion and a sense of dread growing inside of her as some part of her recognized what it was that Nina was talking about. "Do you remember what you'd been doing before leaving?" she asked.

Nina thought about it, her mind most likely still muddled from the meds and pain and the disorienting feeling of waking up after so long. Iris waited, eyes sharp and heartbeat quickening with every second that passed.

"I was just at the office. Don't remember why, but I was at the office," Nina said, looking tired. It was like the effort needed to hold simple conversation was too much for her. Iris might have been more concerned about that, if not for the way her stomach seemed to turn as a realization hit her.

What Nina was recalling was an accident that happened months earlier—the accident that had ended with her getting a hippocampal implant. The one that had started the whole chain of events that led to Nina laying in the bed in from of Iris.

The realization was enough to make Iris' head spin and her stomach drop. Panic and something she hated to admit was a fleeting flash of pity ran through her when she looked at Nina. Iris did her best to push back those emotions, knowing it wasn't what her friend needed at the moment. It was in that instant that Fearnley's earlier words floated to the forefront of her mind.

". . . Let her rest now. She's earned that much."

As Iris looked at Nina, the remnants of her accident still visible in the form of fading cuts and bruises, she couldn't help but agree. Nina's mind had been shattered. The pieces scattered and then hastily put back together only to have the strain of it all threaten to undo it all. The exhaustion and pain—the trauma—was not something Iris could even begin to comprehend.

". . . She's earned that much."

Iris stared at her friend, a bittersweet smile that felt all too fragile spreading across her face, and couldn't help but agree.

"What happened?" Nina asked, on the edge of sleep. Iris just gave a small shake of her head.

"It doesn't matter anymore. Rest," she said, voice soft and tinged with an odd sense of relief—of sadness and hope that all blended into one. It was a tone filled with heartache, much like the smile Iris showed her friend.

Nina took one last look at Iris, closed her eyes, and for the first time in a long while, fell into a peaceful slumber.