Meanwhile, with a newly awakened Sergeant Vanders...

A/N: Well, we get a new POV chapter sequence running parallel with the last chapter in this one, with Kristen finally awakening. I hope you enjoy the introduction and what's to come next with her character...and her relationships, of course.

Sergeant Kristen Vanders' POV

Shortly before the previous chapter...

Consciousness returned as a dull, throbbing pressure behind your eyes. You became aware of the ache before you were aware of anything else, as a manageable, distant drumbeat in your skull. Then came the scent: antiseptic, old fabric, and something faintly spicy like cumin and turmeric. Not the sterile, bleach-heavy smell of a field hospital. Not the ripe, metallic stench of the street where you’d last fought.

Your eyes snapped open.

A ceiling, slightly cracked and painted yellow. A ceiling fan, still. You were on a sofa, a knitted afghan draped over your legs. Your body was stiff but whole. Your uniform was gone, replaced by soft cotton pants and a loose t-shirt. Adrenaline, cold and sharp, flooded your veins, burning away the last cobwebs of unconsciousness.

Where? How?

The last memory seared behind your eyes: the **** point at the alley’s mouth, the smell of rotting bodies, your sniper rifle running dry, the abrupt lightning strike nearby, and the electric shock as you collapsed and hit your head. The distinct impression that a still-living woman you didn't recognize had found you.

Then nothing...

You moved, a testing shift of your weight. The headache pulsed a warning but didn’t spike. You were functional. You threw the afghan off and swung your legs to the floor, the worn carpet rough under your bare feet. The room came into focus: crowded bookshelves, family photos in ornate frames, and a low table with medical supplies such as gauze, bottles, ****, and a stethoscope.

This was a living room. A civilian apartment. And so, concern suddenly tightened your chest. You may have been captured by someone willing to take advantage of you while you slept or were helpless. It wouldn't be the first time, after all, much to your contempt.

Your hand then flew to your hip on reflex, finding no sidearm, no knife, no nothing. You were unarmed in an unknown location. Far from ideal, but it also wouldn't be the first time you needed to fight your way out of a dangerous situation with your bare hands while outnumbered in an unfamiliar location.

A door across the room then suddenly opened.

Two women entered, one older with short brown hair and green eyes, one younger with similar features. They carried bowls of water and clean cloths. Civilians. They froze when they saw you upright, alert.

“She’s awake,” the older one said, her voice calm, measured.

“Who are you?” You asked, your voice coming out as a rasp, a predator’s growl. You stood, your height making the room feel smaller, your posture radiating controlled ****. “Where is my team? Where are my weapons?”

The younger one took a slight step back, but the older woman held her ground, her doctor’s eyes scanning you, assessing. “You’re safe. You were injured. We treated you. I’m Doctor Emma Cruz. This is my daughter, Doctor Reyna. You’re in a secure building.”

“Secure according to whom?” You replied, your voice cracking like a quick whip as you took a step forward, your muscles coiling.

The headache was a minor irritation beneath the surge of mission-focused clarity. Every instinct screamed that you were in hostile territory, that this kindness was somehow a trap. “Where is Captain Dorne? Intelligence Sergeant Meyers? Weapons Sergeant McKenna? Anyone from my unit from our last battle? Answer me!”

“Well...I am not really familiar with people with those names, but...” Jenna started, trailing off when she saw your gaze darting to a nearby kitchen knife on a plate atop a table across the room while calculating.

You barely paid her any attention as she went quiet, convinced that you needed leverage, information, and an exit. Before you could decide whether or not to jump across the room and get that tool, a third figure appeared in the doorway from the kitchen, a petite Indian girl with keen, intelligent eyes. She didn’t flinch at your demeanor, but she seemed suddenly awestruck with delight for some strange reason. “You’re awake! I told them you’d be tough. I’m Anjali! I helped clean your wounds.”

You ignored the introduction, focusing on the doctors. “I need to see my people. Now.”

Anjali grinned, undeterred by your tone. “Wait right there. Don’t do anything rash. I have a very pleasant surprise for you.”

Before you could demand an explanation, she spun and darted out of the room, her footsteps padding down a hallway. You glared at the doctors, who exchanged a look you couldn’t decipher. The standoff stretched, seconds feeling like minutes. You considered your options when a new sound echoed from the hall.

A gasp. A soft, familiar, heartbreakingly beautiful gasp.

Your head whipped toward the doorway immediately. She stood there, frozen in the frame, her eyes wide, one hand flying to her mouth. Josephine. Her hair was messy, her face suddenly pale, but she was whole. She was real. Every ounce of tension, every hardened instinct, shattered.

“Babe?”

The word was a cracked whisper. You were moving before you thought, crossing the room in two long strides. Her nickname tore from your chest, raw and relieved. “Phina!”

She stumbled forward, a sob breaking free, and then she was in your arms. You drew her to you with a bear hug, your face burying in her hair, inhaling the scent of her, soap and gun oil and her—a scent you’d feared you’d never smell again. Your body trembled, a great, shuddering release of a worry you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel until this second.

You pulled back just enough to cradle her face in your hands, your thumbs wiping at the tears streaking her cheeks. Her own hands clutched at your back, your shoulders, as if reassuring herself you were solid.

The world narrowed to her eyes, her breath, and the beat of her heart against yours. Regulations, secrecy, the watching strangers...none of it existed to her in this moment. A zombie horde could have crashed through, and you wouldn't have looked away. There was only this: the proof of her survival, the physical fact of her in your arms.

And so, you didn’t hesitate as you bent your head and captured her lips with yours.

It was not a gentle kiss. It felt like a ****, physical affirmation of life and reunion. She melted into it, her lips parting, her fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of your neck. It was deeper, more open, more real than any kiss you’d ever dared in shadowed corners or stolen moments. It tasted of salt tears and a truth you no longer had the will to hide.

Time lost meaning. The pounding in your skull was gone, replaced by the roaring of your own blood. When you finally broke for air, foreheads resting together, you became dimly aware of the silence around you.

You looked up.

Doctor Emma and Jenna were smiling softly, without judgment. Anjali beamed, her eyes shining. An older Indian woman—Anjali's mother, you figured—stood wiping her hands on an apron, her expression one of gentle understanding. A younger woman, who might have been Anjali's older sister, was actually wearing a nurse's uniform as she leaned in the kitchen doorway, her arms crossed, a look of warm sympathy on her face.

They had seen. They all had seen. And not one of them held censure in their gaze. Only a collective, quiet happiness at your reunion.

The fear of exposure, a ghost that had haunted your career, simply…evaporated. In this strange apartment, in this chaotic new world, your love for Josephine didn't feel like something most people would have the time and energy to bother repressing or judging. It felt like just another piece of the truth, acknowledged and allowed.

You kept one arm around Garcia’s shoulders, holding her close to your side. She sniffled, leaning into you, her smaller frame fitting against yours perfectly. You finally took a proper breath, the first deep one since waking.

“Okay, okay. Look at me, Phina. Time to catch up, I guess. What exactly have I missed while I was ****?”

At that, the room suddenly gets a bit tense, with everyone exchanging uncertain glances at each other. You frowned at that. "I take it I missed a lot, huh?"

Your beloved girlfriend sighed while glancing at the back of your hand. "Oh, Kristen, you have no idea..."