The door needs the extra oomph. Why it does is obvious when it explodes outwards from Stacia in a burst of broken chains and locks on the other side.

The sight before her is that of a very high tech hospital room. The gray haired man in the bed there looks peaceful, and is surrounded by a gaggle of elderly people. The group is smaller than it once was, but all of the surviving ones are there.

The man in the bed looks peaceful.

That Wash anyway.

There is another Wash standing before her at the door, one that flashes with uncertainty like the light passing through the tracks as a train chugs over them overhead.

He tries to voice something to her but his neck is heavily bandaged - a symbol. This Wash is one that accepted his neck injury and the brain damage it caused. This Wash is at peace with it, just like the other Wash is at peace with death in his hospital bed.

But something is terribly wrong. Blood pours down the face of the Wash right in front of her. A section of his head is cut open, a chunk of skull is gone, cut away with surgical precision. Tissue is drawn back. There are diodes and instruments sticking out of that section of his visible brain.

Even if Stacia can't lip read, the words "help me" are pretty obvious. He gestures wildly to the scene behind him, as if to say this vision of death is the right one, the real one, the most likely one.

And then the flickering goes even faster and suddenly the gruesome vision is gone. The serene hospital room and the elderly Wash remains.