Raven paced irritably, trying hard to at least avoid appearing worried as she awaited word on Mac's condition. Nobody'd come out of the surgical bay yet, and she knew he hadn't looked good going on. Still, she had to believe he'd be alright. He was a fighter. He wouldn't just give up. At least, that's what she kept telling herself. She wasn't even sure which doctor was performing the surgery. She knew that both Doctor Mahler and Doctor Lewis were tending to serious injuries, but she didn't know which was taking care of Mac. She'd been assured both were excellent and that he'd be in good hands either way, but she still hated not knowing. She'd never been good at not knowing. Being a telepath had, she supposed, spoiled her on that one. But she couldn't read anyone right now over the mental "noise" of the place, and even if she could she wasn't sure she wanted to. Not if the news wasn't good. But it had to be good. She couldn't lose him on top of the rest. He was her last real friend from the Resurgence' crew. Hell, he was her last real friend period. He had to live.