Chapter Text
The world seems not the same
Though I know nothing has changed
It’s all my state of mind
I can’t leave it all behind
Have to stand up to be stronger
~~~~
“Talk about a miracle.”
“A miracle? More like un—unnatural.”
“Give me the rundown.”
“Brain function looks norm—normal. Considering the trauma…I would even call her brain function stable. Except for—Well… Her prefrontal—frontal cortex isn’t re—responding the way it should. That…could lean towards memory—potential memory loss.”
“She doesn’t remember anything?”
“There’s a chance. Worse yet, we’ll have no way of know—knowing which memories are gone or how far—far back she’ll remember. My apologies, but it’s difficult to predict how she may or may not re—recover. And when she does wake up…depending on her con—condition, we can only recommend let—letting her live a normal life.”
“Normal isn’t in her vocabulary.”
“Well, it seems now she may final—finally have a chance to learn.”
…Is she the same?
~~~~
She’s not sure what wakes her first: the fluorescent lights or the blaring alarms. She groans as both senses are overwhelmed. As her eyes adjust, she finds herself in a hospital room, but she doesn’t have time to fully comprehend why she’s there before she’s hearing the explicit sound of gunshots out in the hall.
“She’s in one of these rooms. Find her.”
The voice carries through the door. She has no idea how many rooms are in this hall or how many of them are filled, so she’s forcing herself out of the bed and searching the small area for a spot to hide. She slips between a tall cabinet and the wall, but not before opening a window. And she’s in place just as the door slides open. Two armoured men barge in, guns drawn.
“What the hell? It’s empty.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. She was supposed to be in one of these rooms.”
“Where the hell could she have gone? There’s no way she snuck out; we would’ve seen her before she could get away.”
“Fuck. Look. The goddamn window is open.”
“You don’t think—?”
She holds her breath as the two men go quiet, assumingly checking out the open window. She doesn’t dare peek out from her hiding spot, despite wanting to know the position of these men. It’s already concerning enough that her feet aren’t necessarily hidden in this spot; she doesn’t need to risk any other part of her being seen.
“Well, if she did go out the window then she moved fast.”
“What do we do now?”
“Send a team to search the perimeter while the rest of us stay locked down and continue our search in here. Move out.”
As soon as she hears the door slide shut and the echo of armoured feet fade, she slips out of her hiding spot. She breathes again. Then she’s crawling out the window. She’s not sure what the hell is going on, but she doesn’t feel like sticking around to find out. Not when she seemingly has armed and dangerous men trying to find her. At least…she thinks it’s her they’re looking for. She has no proof, just a gut feeling.
There’s a landing outside the window wide enough to place her feet flat. She’s not high up enough where a fall would kill her, but it would definitely hurt. Ever so carefully, she shifts her way across the landing to where there’s a short drop off onto a roof. She keeps low, searching the windows for any signs of movement. Once she decides it’s safe enough, she half-crawls to the nearest wall. She has no idea where more of these men could be or how many of them there are, but she needs to find some way to defend herself. She peeks into the window above her only to swiftly duck back down. What was that? She’s unsure of whether she actually heard those words or not as she scoots away from the window and towards the edge of the roof. She glances over the edge and decides it’s still too far a drop for her to jump and be able to physically walk away from the fall. Plus, more of those armoured men are rounding the corner, so that’s definitely not the way to go.
She closes her eyes as she takes a deep breath before surveying the area. She moves along the wall so that way the men inside can’t see her out the window. She moves until the wall angles off and she’s on another wide landing. On the other end of this ledge, though, there’s nothing. No continuation of the landing and no roof for her to step onto or drop down to. So, she retraces a few short steps to the nearest window and pries it open, allowing herself to crawl back inside the building.
There are bodies littered across the floor. She squeezes her eyes shut at the sight. These victims were probably doctors and nurses. Maybe even a patient. Innocents. All dead most likely because of her.
She doesn’t have time to mourn before she hears more gunshots being fired off. She grabs a discarded pistol, checks—double and triple checks—that it has a thermal clip, and then slips into the next room. It’s dark, giving her an advantage. She finds her way to the door, pushing it open just a crack. Three more armoured men stand directly on the other side. Her breath catches in her throat at the shock of them being so close. At the shock of more lifeless bodies.
“She has to be here somewhere. There’s no way in hell she got up and walked out. There’s no way she got past any of us. She’s not that good anymore.”
“Memories or not, she’s still the Commander Shepard. Wouldn’t be surprised if she still has a trick or two up her sleeves.”
Commander Shepard. So…they definitely are looking for her. Hunting her.
“Her sleeves are a fucking hospital gown. She’s unarmed, you idiot. She won’t be able to escape.”
A hospital gown. Shepard is still in a fucking hospital gown. This guy is right; she’s more exposed than anything. So, she moves back into the other room. searches the cabinets and drawers for civilian clothes. Nothing. She swallows hard as she glances down at a fallen asari about her size…
The clothes fit, albeit they’re not the most comfortable. Whatever. Comfort isn’t currently her main concern. If anything, it’s a luxury at this particular moment. She shuffles back into the darkened room, returning to the door. The three men have disappeared by now. This is somehow both a blessing and a curse. She dares to step into the hall just enough to look around. It’s empty. No echoes of voices or armoured footsteps. No gunshots. No screams. Either everyone is dead, or the survivors have managed to vacate. And now she needs to figure out how to vacate, as well.
She fully steps out into the hall, gun at-the-ready. She has no idea which direction the three men disappeared in, so she’s taking her chances going either direction. She goes left, taking each step deliberately. Cautiously. She stops at the first corner, taking a deep breath before taking that next step into the shifted hall. More bodies. A couple flickering terminals. All of this because of—
“There you are, you little shit.”
She doesn’t look over her shoulder, she just runs. Down the hall. Over the bodies. Running isn’t typically her style, but in this case… Well, she has no idea who these men are. What they’re capable of. What they want. If they want her dead or just incapacitated. She’s not willing to stick around to find out, though. So, she runs. She runs as fast as her legs will carry her. Runs until she finds another dark room. She tries looking around for a place to hide, but her eyes can’t adjust fast enough, and she already hears the footfalls of armour. So, she presses herself against the wall by the door and hopes for the best.
The footsteps slow to a halt. No one is talking, so she can’t tell for sure if there’s one man or two. She listens attentively, holding her breath. Listens as the footsteps grow closer and closer. And when the door slides open, she thinks her heart stops altogether. She presses herself even further into the wall as the armoured man steps inside. She’s not sure how much time she’ll have, but she knows it’ll be mere moments. So, she raises the pistol. Aims for the neck. Pulls the trigger.
The man drops to the ground with a strangled sound.
Shepard doesn’t hang around to find out if he’s dead or not. She heads right back out the door, but she doesn’t get far.
“Bitch,” the man says as he knocks her to the ground. “You think you’re clever, don’t ya? You actually thought you’d be able to escape, huh?” As he’s chuckling, she reaches for the pistol that had been dropped when she fell so she could catch herself, but then the man is stepping on her hand. “Don’t even think about it.” He presses down and she hisses under her breath, squeezing her eyes shut. “Look at me.” She does so reluctantly, and he’s aiming his rifle at her. “Y’know, you ain’t even worth this much fucking trouble.”
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
The man instantly removes his foot and lowers his gun at the sound of the other voice. “C’mon, I’m just teasing. This extraction wasn’t supposed to be so fucking difficult, but this bitch thinks she can get away with it.”
“Boss wants her alive,” the second man says, jabbing the other with the butt of his own rifle right in his chest.
“I wasn’t gonna kill her; I’m not fucking stupid. I just wanted to remind her that she ain’t all that. Put her in her place.”
“Boss also wants her unharmed, dipshit.”
While they’re bickering, she takes this time to recompose herself. To rearm herself. She gets a hold of the pistol and sits up, leaning against a nearby desk that’s been flipped on its side. They haven’t noticed her movements yet. She could get up and try to make another run for it, but she doesn’t think she’ll get very far again. The other man hasn’t come out of the room yet, so she’s thinking he may definitely be dead. She swallows hard. If she tries shooting one of these men, the other will surely put her down. Boss wants her alive. She glances up at the one who had spoken those words. He seems to be of a clearer mind, whereas the other is still spitting insults about her. She raises the pistol and aims again for the neck.
She’s not sure who fires first.
Both men are on the ground—joining the rest of the unresponsive bodies—by the time she’s rounding the corner to get away. She doesn’t look back. Just keeps going forward. Keeps running. She comes across more bodies. Adds a few more herself. Hears gunshots from somewhere else in the building. Tries not to think about them. About how many more innocent people are getting killed. Maybe—
Maybe she just should stop. Go back. Turn herself in. Then again, these people are already dead. Will it be in vain if she just gives up?
As she comes across a waiting room of sorts, she hears more voices from across the way. She practically dives behind another desk to hide. Waits in silence, clutching the pistol. She has to be getting close to the end. Close to an exit. Then this will all be over.
Wishful thinking.
“—Boss still wants her alive?”
“Don’t complain to me about it. I’d kill the bitch, too, if I could.”
“Tch. Who knew she’d put up such a fucking fight?”
“Yeah, well, we had no way to predict this. I mean, you’d think after being in a coma for three months you wouldn’t have so much fucking energy.”
“Goddamn adrenaline.”
She stops. Three months? A coma? But—Has she actually been in a coma for the last three months? If that’s the case, then what the hell happened? Except it still doesn’t explain why these people want her captured. And whoever their boss is, Shepard sure as hell doesn’t want to meet them. Hmm.
She shifts, adjusting her stance into something a bit more comfortable. By doing so, she also elbows the desk, and the sound might as well reverberate through the entire room. Through the entire building.
“Hold on. What was that?”
“It came from over that way. The desk there.”
She freezes. Shit. She scrambles to ready her pistol only to realise the clip is empty. Fuck. She sets the weapon down and closes her eyes. This will all be over soon. More wishful thinking. She just didn’t want to believe it would end this way.
The footsteps grow closer. She can see the shadow of the man on the wall across from her. It won’t be long now. She takes a deep breath in preparation. Then there’s the sound of a gunshot and the man suddenly tumbles over the desk, body limp. She jostles in her hiding spot before nudging him slightly, causing his head to turn and she can see the bullet hole right in the centre of his helmet.
“What the—?”
Another gunshot and a choked sound, and she hears an armoured body fall to the ground. She slowly shifts onto her knees to peek out over the desk. Oh. Okay. So, there’s someone else here killing these men. That’s…good? Yeah. It has to be good. But…who? And why? Maybe it’s one of the doctors. Or maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe she should just use this to her advantage. Use this to escape.
She moves out from behind the desk. Grabs the rifle from the man dead on the floor. She checks the clip and decides she should have enough to get her the rest of the way out of this godforsaken hospital. Where she’ll go from there, she has no idea. She’ll figure it out, though. One step at a time.
There are more footsteps drawing towards her. Instead of running this time, she raises the rifle and waits. These men are going to learn just how difficult she can be. That she won’t go down without a fight, after three months in a coma or not. And she holds her breath as the footsteps ring through her ears, loud as can be. She grips the rifle tighter and—
And then a turian enters the room. She’s thrown off by the sight of him—the rest of these people so far have been human men—but quickly adjusts and recollects herself. She doesn’t lower the rifle even when he lowers his own weapon.
“Who are you?” she asks. Her voice is a lot rougher than she had been anticipating, but if she really has been in a coma for three months… Well, that would only make sense. “Why are you here? What do you want from me?” The turian lifts his arm, holstering his rifle on his back. It clicks into place on his armour. She tilts her head, eyeing him suspiciously. He then goes to take a step towards her, and she only lifts her rifle higher, finger on the trigger. “What do you think you’re doing? Explain yourself.”
“Shepard…”
The use of her name throws her off all over again. He—Does he know her? Does she know him? The way he had just said her name was almost…breathless. It doesn’t answer any of her questions, though. If anything, it just leaves her with more.
“Who are you?” she asks again.
There’s an odd flick of his mandibles. That’s when she notices the scarring along his right mandible. Huh. Before he can say anything, though, more voices carry from behind him. This way. Go, go, go. The words echo in her mind. Next thing she knows, she’s being dragged away by the turian. Being led down a hall in the opposite direction of where she had been planning on going before this encounter. They weave through a couple empty rooms, only lit by sparks of electricity. She’s not sure why she’s letting him guide her. She still doesn’t know him. Doesn’t know his intentions. She yanks her wrist free of his three-fingered grip, causing him to falter on his next step.
He stops to look back at her. “What are you doing?”
“That’s what I wanna know,” she says. “I need answers.”
The voices catch up with them. C’mon, keep moving. Then the turian is grabbing her again, pulling her through the closest door. It’s a tiny room on the other side and he pulls Shepard tight against himself, leaving his back facing the door. Her face is practically hidden in the space between his neck and cowl. She wants to shove him away, but… He’s holding her like he knows her. Like he’s familiar with her. And she can’t help but feel comfortable in his embrace. Safe.
She doesn’t let herself feed into this feeling.
The voices pass. The footfalls fade. Then there’s just silence, save for their breathing.
The turian pulls away and peeks out the door. “I think they’re gone,” he says, voice low. “The exit isn’t too far from here.” He moves to leave the room but stops when he realises that he’s not being followed. “What are you waiting for?”
“How do I know I can trust you?” Shepard asks.
“Maybe because I’m the only one not shooting at you.”
That’s…actually a good point, but she won’t acknowledge that now. “That doesn’t prove anything,” she goes on. “These men want to take me to their boss. How do I know that’s not you? How do I know you’re not just acting like this to fool me?”
“I am not with these men.” He takes a step closer to her. “I am here for you, Shepard. To help you.”
“Why would you want to help me? Don’t most turians still hate humans?”
He chuckles at this, half-heartedly. “Not necessarily. Besides, I’m not like most turians. In fact, I’m a pretty terrible turian.” Her brow furrows at this. “You’re just gonna have to take a chance on me.”
Take a chance. Tch. She swallows hard. Well, it seems this turian would be the best chance she has. She readies her rifle. “Let’s go.”
He grabs his own rifle from his back, and they leave the cover of the small room. The hall is empty. The turian continues to lead her towards the exit. It’s not long before they see it. They continue at their steady pace. Two men appear from one of the rooms to their right and they both take one out with a simple headshot.
“Good to know you haven’t lost your touch, Shep,” the turian says.
She doesn’t react to the comment. Doesn’t let herself react. Doesn’t know how she should react. So, they just keep moving to the exit. Shepard is more than ready to be out of this hospital. To get away from this place. To finally get some answers. Starting with—
“What’s your name?” she asks.
His hand falters, and he accidentally pulls the trigger, shooting the wall. “Shit. Sorry.” She quirks an eyebrow at this reaction, but he doesn’t see it because he doesn’t even look at her. He clears his throat. “Garrus Vakarian.”
She nods her head. “And you seem to already know me.”
“No offence, but maybe we leave the niceties for when we get away from here,” he goes on. “Less distracting that way.” They then proceed to exit the building at long last. “Follow me. And be on your guard. There could still be Cerberus members out here.”
Cerberus. Is that the group these men are involved with? Must be. Hmm… If so, who are they and what do they want with Shepard? Why is she seemingly so important to them? She keeps these questions to herself as she follows Vakarian around the perimeter of the building. She checks her surroundings at this point, but not for more members of this group. She more so checks to figure out where the hell she is. It looks like Earth but at the same time it…doesn’t. Huh. The last place she recalls being is—
“Shepard?”
She shakes her head, stopping in her tracks. Her focus falls on the turian who’s looking at her with a raised brow plate. “What?”
“Did you hear anything I said?”
He sounds put-off, which only aggravates Shepard. “I’m sorry, but I only just woke up out of what was apparently a three-month-long fucking coma to these armoured men trying to hunt me down, and I don’t know why or what the hell is going on. I’m sure you have more information than me, so forgive me for being a little unfocused and distracted. I’m still trying to catch up.”
His gaze drops. “We’re almost there.” And he keeps moving.
She’s not sure if that’s what he had said before that she had missed, or if he decided to just forget about his previous comment. She almost feels bad for snapping but shakes it off. Not like she was wrong for snapping; everything she had said is true, after all. Not her fault she’s still trying to wrap her head around this.
They arrive in a common area where a small ship sits, waiting. Vakarian continues towards it, but Shepard stops short as she takes it all in. Is she really going to leave with this turian? This stranger? Her only other option is staying behind with this so-called Cerberus group. Then again, she doubts the turian would let her stay behind.
He glances over his shoulder. “What are you waiting for?” He holsters his rifle on his back again as he climbs into the ship. “We have to get out of here.”
“Where are you taking me?”
“Omega.”
“How do you plan on getting out of here discreetly?” She gestures behind her. “They’ll notice the ship and follow us.”
“They won’t dare follow us to Omega. They’re not welcome there. Plus, I disabled their shuttles when I got here. So, let’s go before we waste more time.”
Shepard swallows hard. Takes a deep breath and walks the rest of the distance to the ship. Hesitates one last time before finally climbing in. The door slides shut and Vakarian gets it started. Shepard is still clutching the rifle. Breathing deep. Persistently reminding herself to breathe. Then they take off and, by some godforsaken miracle, they get away without picking up any followers.
“What’s on Omega?” she asks.
“Well, with the Citadel gone—”
She nearly fires off the rifle much like Vakarian had earlier. “What the hell do you mean the Citadel is gone?”
His brow plates furrow. “What exactly is the last thing you remember, Shep?”
Now that’s the million-credit question. Tch. She remembers being aboard the Normandy. She remembers being there with Captain Anderson. They had been on their way to the Citadel for…something. Or maybe they had been on their way to—Oh. Eden Prime. That’s right. And—Had there been a turian Spectre onboard? Hmm. She shakes her head, afraid to answer. Afraid to find out just how much time she’s lost.
“Do you remember the Reapers?” Vakarian goes on.
“The—What?”
“Shit. Okay. What about Saren?”
“I—” She’s shaking her head again.
“Guess that should’ve been obvious since you don’t remember me, either.” He breathes deep. “I’m guessing the name Cerberus also doesn’t click with you.”
“Uhm…” She gives another defeated shake of her head.
“In that case, there’s a lot to catch you up on.”
“How many years?”
He pauses. “Three and a half.”
Three—? Fuck. She’s forgotten almost four full years of her life? She feels dizzy with this information. The movement of the ship doesn’t help. Everything is spinning. Blurring. She tries to blink it away, but with each blink it gets more and more difficult to reopen her eyes. Soon enough, her eyes don’t open again. She hears Vakarian’s voice calling her name, but he suddenly sounds so far away. Her head lolls back as she tries to get her eyes back open. As she tries to keep remembering to breathe. She can barely remember anything, though, and that’s the problem. That’s the—
The sound of Vakarian’s voice fades into a dull ringing. Then the ringing cuts out, and she just feels cold. She feels nothing. She feels…paralysed.
She’s too far gone.
~~~~
When Shepard comes to, she finds that she’s no longer on the small ship. Instead, she’s in a small bed that takes up half the space of the tiny room she’s in. She slowly sits up and looks around. Not that there’s much to look at. Four walls and a door. As to what could be beyond that door, she’s not so sure.
She notices a neatly folded pile of clothes on the bedside table. That’s when she remembers she’s still wearing the clothes she had removed from that asari. The dead asari. She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath, and then she gets up to change. Carefully strips herself once she realises there’s a rather persistent pain in her lower back.
Halfway through changing, the door on the other side of the room slides open. She grabs the sheet off the bed to cover herself as the turian—who clearly doesn’t understand the meaning of discretion—barges in.
“Oh. You’re up,” Vakarian says.
Her eyes widen. “Is that all you have to say?”
“I…” He gives her a once over before realisation seemingly dawns on him and he screws his eyes shut, turning his head away. “Sorry. Uhm.” He clears his throat. “Was only trying to check on you. Didn’t mean to, uh—Didn’t mean to invade your privacy.”
“Yet you’re still standing there.”
“Sorry.” He steps back out of the room, allowing the door to slide shut, separating them. “Just…come out when you’re ready,” he goes on from the other side.
Shepard lets out a heavy sigh as she sits on the bed, shaking her head. What is this turian’s issue? Is he dense? Tch. And she’s supposed to trust him. Then again… She supposes he did get her out of that hospital with her life. Got her out without any extra injuries. And there’s no way she can be convinced that those other people were even remotely friendly. But—Oh. That reminds her: She still has no idea what the hell she had even been doing in that hospital in the first place. What happened that got her there? What could’ve put her in a three-month-long coma? Whatever it was, she must’ve really fucked up her last mission.
She finishes redressing, taking a deep breath before exiting the room.
Vakarian’s gaze lands on her the moment she steps through the door. She doesn’t know why he seems to be so keyed in on her.
“Are you hungry?” he asks. “Thirsty?”
Yeah, she’s not ready to accept food or drink from any stranger just yet. “I’m good.” She sits across from him. “You owe me an explanation, though.”
“Wanna get right into that, huh?” He breathes deep. “I honestly don’t even know where to begin. So, can we at least start with what you do remember?”
Tch. Didn’t they go over this already? Something about Reapers and someone named Saren and—? Eden Prime. That’s right. Before she remembered being on course to the colony, but now she thinks she may remember physically being in there. It had been…abandoned. For the most part. Hmm. She shakes her head. She doesn’t recall who her ground team had been, but…there was a turian Spectre there, as well. Oh. Is that who Saren was? Her eyebrows furrow. There was something else… Something about—
“A Prothean beacon,” she speaks up. “I think I remember encountering a Prothean beacon while on Eden Prime.”
“That’s because you did.”
“Did I…activate it?”
“Yes. And it sparked this whole…conspiracy, essentially. It also made you the first human Spectre.”
The first…human Spectre. Shit. “What conspiracy?”
“Would you like me to ease you into this history or—”
“Let’s just dive in. No point in beating around the bush.”
“Very well.” He pauses. “Almost four years ago now, your first given mission as Spectre was to track another Spectre who had gone rogue…”
Vakarian talks and Shepard listens. Takes in every word, barely processing any of them. Shit. Rogue Spectres. Prothean beacons. Geth outside the Perseus Veil. Reapers. Sentient creatures determined to destroy all advanced civilisations. And she had been the advocate for this war? She led the charge? She even teamed up with and then defeated this human terrorist group. Cerberus. She cured the genophage. Ended the war between the quarians and the geth. United an entire fucking galaxy. Tch. None of it sounds real. Plausible. There’s no way in hell a single person accomplished all this. There’s no way she—
“We don’t know what you did with the Catalyst,” Vakarian goes on, “but whatever you did, it worked. Killed every last Reaper near instantaneously.” Another pause. “Actually, it killed every last synthetic being in general.” He shakes his head. “Imagine the quarians’ surprise when all the geth suddenly dropped, dysfunctional.”
She scoffs. “They couldn’t have been too upset.”
“Seeing as the geth had been helping them make strides in rebuilding on Rannoch, it ended up being a pretty huge setback for them.”
She nods her head once. “And…me?”
“We thought for sure you were dead. The way the Citadel practically imploded on itself… Well, we didn’t think it would have been possible for you to make it out alive. On top of that, you were part synthetic yourself. That doesn’t seem to be the case anymore, though, ever since—”
“Wait—What the hell do you mean I was part synthetic?”
“Right. So…” He clears his throat. “You’ve already died once before. And you technically stayed dead for two years.”
“Two—?” Somehow, that’s the most difficult thing she’s heard so far. She had been dead for two years? And then…what? She just— “The Alliance brought me back?”
“Not quite. Uhm. Cerberus did. That’s why you had partnered with them for that short time.”
“Oh.” She’s not sure how to react to that. “Why didn’t the Alliance help?”
“They gave up on you. You were clinically dead, so they…moved on.”
Clinically dead? Moved on? Tch. “I see.” She pauses. “And this time around?”
“Your body was pulled out of the rubble by some asari commandos,” he says. “You still had the faintest life signs, so we got you help right away.”
“And now it’s been three months and…what? The galaxy hates me?”
“The galaxy does not hate you. Why would you think that?”
“Well, what does this Cerberus group still want with me?”
“We have no idea. The Illusive Man is MIA. He should’ve been on the Citadel when you were, so some believe he went down with the implosion. Others believe he escaped and is still out there. Maybe those people are right, after all, and now he’s trying to finish you off himself.”
“It sounded like they wanted me alive.”
“I don’t have those answers for you, Shep.”
There he goes, using that nickname again. Shep. Yeah. He has to be more familiar with her than he’s letting on. “Well, there has to be someone out there who does,” she goes on. “What about Captain Anderson?”
His mandibles go slack. “Admiral Anderson was killed on the Citadel, as well.”
Okay. That’s the most difficult thing she’s heard now. All the air feels as if it’s been sucked from her lungs. “He’s—” She shakes her head. “No. He—He can’t be dead.”
“He is. I—I’m sorry, Shepard.”
He seems…uneasy. Like he’s trying his damnedest to keep seated. His hands fisted, as if to stop himself from reaching towards her. She flicks her eyes to his face, but his gaze is turned downwards. He’s definitely the strangest turian she’s ever encountered. And she can’t tell yet if that’s a good thing or not.
Except…that shouldn’t even be her concern right now. Hell, her entire world has just been flipped upside down. She’s lost nearly four years of her life. Has lost people she can’t even remember losing. Or having, for that matter. It’s not fair. What has she done to deserve this? What will it take for her to regain these memories? Tch. Does she even want to regain those memories? Part of her thinks she doesn’t. That she’ll be better off without them. Better off with them staying forgotten.
“Stupid question, but—”
“No,” she says before he can even finish. “I’m not okay.” She shakes her head again. “I am the farthest fucking thing from okay. I…don’t know what to make of any of this. If I should even believe any of it. How the hell am I supposed to trust you? I don’t know you. I don’t remember you. It’s not like you mean anything to me. And I’m supposed to just take your word on all this? Accept it as fact?” She lets out a wet scoff and that’s when she realises that she’s holding back tears of frustration. “If that truly was my life before, then I want no part of it.”
“You don’t mean that,” he says in the softest of voices.
“Excuse me?”
He finally meets her gaze. “You don’t mean that,” he says again. “You cared about those people. You made a difference in this galaxy. You fought for those who couldn’t fight for themselves. And you wouldn’t just…abandon anyone because it’s the easier option. That’s not who you are.”
“Well, maybe I don’t wanna be that person anymore. And seeing as I don’t remember that life anyway, what a better time to restart.”
“People don’t think you’re dead, Shepard,” he goes on. “News is gonna spread faster than the speed of light that you’re back on your feet and you won’t be able to hide. Everyone knows who you are.”
“Is that supposed to be a threat?”
“No, of course not. It’s just…” He lets out another sigh. “You can’t just expect the galaxy to forget Commander Shepard. You’re a hero. A legend.”
“Then what the hell am I supposed to do?”
“You’re gonna have to lay low, regardless, because of Cerberus. At the same time, though, we need to figure out what they want with you.”
“Right.” She gets to her feet. Paces. “I still don’t understand why I should trust you. How am I supposed to know you don’t want me for something? Or that you’re not trying to capture me for some bounty?”
He meets her gaze. “I was part of your crew, Shepard. From tracking Saren to infiltrating and destroying the Collector base to helping you form alliances for the war. I’ve been with you from the very beginning.” He gets to his feet, as well. Walks around to stand before her. “You can trust me because I would never dream of hurting or betraying you. I came after you because I—” He stops short. Clears his throat. “Because there was no way in hell that I was letting Cerberus get their grimy hands on you.”
She quirks an eyebrow. “Fine. But one wrong move—”
“I know. I get it. You don’t have to worry about me.”
She looks him up and down. “Okay.” She doesn’t want to trust him, but something in her gut is telling her she should. That she can. For now, at least. “What’s our first move?”
“You’ve just woken from a three-month long coma and were immediately thrown into a strenuous situation. I think our first move is giving you a chance to recuperate. We’ll stay here and take it easy for—”
“You think Omega is the best place to lay low?”
“Do you have a better suggestion?”
She shrugs her shoulders. “Why not Illium? Or…I don’t know. Noveria, maybe?”
“Noveria is too cold.” She holds back an eyeroll at this, letting out a little scoff-like chuckle instead. “And, c’mon, Illium?” he goes on, seemingly unfazed by her reaction. “That station really isn’t any better than Omega. People just think it is because it’s run by asari. Here, though… Well, surprisingly enough, the so-called leader of Omega is willing to help keep you safe.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
His mouth plates shift open and closed a few times. “I think you need food in your system.” He moves around the sofa and picks up a gun, holstering it on his back. “Stay here. Take it easy. I’ll run out and grab something to eat for us.”
Before Shepard can even think about making an argument, Vakarian is out the door and it’s sliding shut behind him. She stands just…gawking at it. Eventually, she falls back onto the couch. Stares at the ceiling as she continues to give herself a chance to process all the bullshit she’s been told. Tch. She’s not sure what to believe anymore. Maybe she should take off now while Vakarian is gone. Where the hell would she go, though? And if any of those people from that Cerberus group came across her…
She looks back towards the door. Hmm. For now, Vakarian may be her best bet.
~~~~
She’s aboard a ship she doesn’t recognise. Can barely see a klick beyond her own hand. Her feet are moving of their own accord, though, guiding her along. She moves through one door. Then another. The deeper into the ship she gets, the more…splatters she sees along the walls. Blue. Green. Purple. Red. She tries not to focus on the colours. Tries not to think about what those stains could be.
Finally, she enters a room with two others. A turian and a salarian. They’re standing over a table in the centre of the room. She steps a little closer to get a better look and discovers that there’s a human on the table. Awake and restrained and—
The salarian has a scalpel in his hand, smeared with deep red. She stumbles back until she hits the wall. That’s when the turian notices her. And that’s when she notices that the turian is him. Vakarian. He approaches her with a dangerous gleam in his eyes. Predatory. She wants to run but finds herself immobilised. Unable to move. Unable to breathe. Unable to even scream. And as he gets closer, he reaches out for her. Don’t worry, we didn’t forget about you. You’ll be next. Next? What the hell is that supposed to mean? What the hell is going on here? Why can’t she run? She needs to run. She needs to escape. To get out of here. She needs—
“Shepard.”
She gasps for breath, her eyes shooting open. She bolts upright. It was… It was a dream. A nightmare. That’s all it had been. That’s—
She notices Vakarian sitting on the edge of her bed. “Get away from me,” she says, shoving him off. “You have no right—”
“No right?” He gets back to his feet. “You were the one calling my name. Did you expect me to just ignore you?”
Her brow furrows. “What the hell would I call for you?”
“Beats me.”
“Well…get the hell away from me. And stay away.”
“Obviously you had a bad dream, Shep,” he goes on. “C’mon, just talk to me.”
Talk to him? What? About how he had been conducting some fucked up experiment with a salarian? What if—? No. That’d be crazy. She supposes it’s not impossible, though. Maybe the dream had been a memory. Triggered by the turian’s presence. Maybe he is crazy. And maybe he’s leading her on. Keeping her from these Cerberus people because he’s the one who’s dangerous, after all. Except those Cerberus people really didn’t seem any better or safer. Hmm. She gives him a onceover. Regardless, she can’t let him know that she’s on to him.
“I’m fine,” she says. “I just wanna go back to sleep.”
He lets out a heavy sigh. “Fine. Just… I’m here if you need me.”
He leaves the room without any more of an argument. Shepard is relieved by this. Now she just needs to wait it out for a bit. Needs to give Vakarian a chance to fall asleep. Then she’ll make her escape. Hmm. He had mentioned something about Omega’s leader being on their side. Wanting to help keep her safe. Maybe they could get Shepard a shuttle off this hellhole of a station. Unless that’s a lie, too. Tch. Only one way to find out.
She’s not sure exactly how long she waits for. Long enough. She’s ready to crawl out of her skin. So, she slides the bedroom door open and slips out. Tiptoes her way around the sofa where the turian is sleeping. With a pistol next to his head. For his protection or for her own? It doesn’t matter. She swipes it and exits the apartment.
Even in the middle of the night cycle, Omega is still bustling with life. She makes her way for Afterlife where the so-called leader does her so-called business. She thinks her name is Aria? If she heard correctly, that is, which she’s pretty sure she has.
Shepard approaches the double stairwell with guards standing on either side. She moves to the side with the turian guard. He nods at her but doesn’t try to stop her. So, she keeps going. At the top is an asari sitting on a couch, an air of sophistication about her. Seemingly surveying the room without acknowledging anyone’s presence.
“Do I have to reintroduce myself?” the asari starts.
“So long as I know that you’re Aria, then I think we can skip the formalities.”
“Perfect. Sit.” Shepard does as she’s told, keeping distance between them. “What is it you need?” Aria asks.
“A shuttle off this station.”
That’s when Aria glances her way. “Just you? What about that turian of yours?”
“I don’t trust him.”
“Odd. I was under the impression you two were quite…inseparable during the war. Never saw one without the other.”
She swallows hard. “That was another life. Point is, I don’t remember him, and I don’t know his intentions. And unless you’re willing to tell me otherwise—”
“I’ve told you before that I don’t enjoy the company you keep,” she says. “So, what do I care if you ditch him or not? Better yet, who am I to argue with the esteemed Commander Shepard?” She cocks her head to the side. “Bray.” A batarian then joins them. “Get our dear old friend a shuttle off this station,” she goes on. “And do it discreetly. We don’t want Archangel finding out.”
“Very well,” Bray says before turning on Shepard. “Follow me.”
Shepard hesitates for a brief moment. What the hell is she doing? She doesn’t know these people any better than she knows Vakarian. And she isn’t sure how well they know him. So, is this really the better choice? Or should she just stay here with the turian who she had allegedly been inseparable with at one point?
“You coming or what?”
She shakes her head. Fuck. Yes. She’s going. She can’t stay here. So, she gets to her feet and follows the batarian. This is only temporary. Once she’s off this godforsaken station, she won’t have to see any of these people ever again. And that right there is what makes this the better choice. The only option.
They go underground. Move through some intricate tunnel system. Shepard is trying not to feel anxious, but a small part of her can’t help but feel concerned.
“You gonna kill me, after all?” she breaks the silence.
Bray chuckles. “You’ve only died and come back to life twice now. You may as well be unkillable.”
It’s supposed to be a joke, she’s sure of it, but it doesn’t help to ease the tension. “Who is Archangel?” she then asks, remembering the name Aria had used.
“Your turian friend,” he says. “He was a vigilante here on Omega for a while. Wanted to make a difference but only ended up making every major merc group on the station hate him. Hell, they even teamed up to try and kill him.” He shakes his head. “It was stupid on his part. Got his entire squad killed because of it. Can’t deny the crime rate did go down for a while, though. Gotta admit, he’s one tough bastard.”
“Why did he leave Omega?”
“You came back from the dead and recruited him. Never seen a turian follow a human so blindly.”
Oh. Maybe he’s not—No. She can’t go back. Her mind is made up on this matter. She’s not gonna be that same person. She’s no longer Commander Shepard. And that means no ties to her alleged past.
They return to higher ground. And as soon as they do, Shepard spots the shuttle waiting for her.
“All yours,” Bray goes on. “What do you want us to tell the turian?”
“Do you have to tell him anything?”
“He’s gonna ask. And before you tell us to lie; he won’t believe us.”
“Then what does it matter what you tell him?”
“I was thinking of taking a recording. More authentic that way.” He opens his omni-tool. “Go ahead.”
She stares at the glowing orange light for a moment. Then she takes a deep breath. “Maybe you’re not an enemy, but I can’t call you a friend, either. Because of that, I can’t stay here with you. I don’t…want to stay here with you.” She swallows hard. Fuck. Why does this seem so harsh? She shouldn’t care. It shouldn’t matter. She clears his throat. “Don’t come looking for me again.”