The sterile hum of the medical bay was a constant, mocking counterpoint to the agony that seared through Jimmy's twisted frame. His face, a roadmap of disfigurement, stared blankly at the ceiling, each breath a silent battle against despair. Anya, her presence a soft warmth against the cold, clinical steel, gently re-wet a cloth on his brow, her devotion an anchor in his sea of pain. He couldn't move, couldn't help, but his sheer, enduring will to live, quiet yet unyielding, became the ship's most potent, silent prayer. In that broken body, fragile yet resolute, a new, profound strength bloomed.

(Jimmy from the hero/heroic mw au post crash when Jimmy is injured instead)