The sky burns above her, hot orange flames and dark columns of smoke she cannot see. The world releases a breath, the cheers of soldiers and civilians alike, a cry of victory she cannot hear. She's trapped. In her mind. In her body. A body she can no longer feel. Her lungs burn for lack of oxygen and yet this time, she's ready to die. She thinks of her crew, her brothers and sisters in arms, those who stood at her side facing death themselves on more than one occasion. She thinks of Samantha.
"There's someone here!"
"Sam", she thinks. "No. Not Sam."
This voice is older, richer, and it pulls her out of the darkness.
xxxxxxx
She wakes up from time to time, her eyes blinking open for a second, maybe two, barely long enough to discern that she's not dreaming. The first time all she can see is white. White walls, white ceiling, white human-shaped blobs. It's only a second but she knows what it means. They're bringing her back. Again.
When she finally awakens, fully conscious and fully functioning it's 3 months later. She's sitting in a hospital bed, body draped in a horrendous gown, but that's all she can complain about. She inspects her arms, her legs, wiggling her fingers and toes. She smiles.
"Commander Shepard, Savior of the Citadel. Or should I say savior of the galaxy?"
She knows that voice. She heard it before, when she'd been waiting for death to take her. Her eyes dart towards the door, her head turning cautiously and for the first time, she gazes upon her own savior.
Dark brown eyes meet her own, a striking contrast to the paleness of her fair skin. She's small in stature, deceptively so, for the woman's presence is like that of Shepard's own amongst those who admire her. It's overpowering.
Shepard's mouth opens as if to speak and stops. What would she say? What would she ask?
"How long?" Her voice is weak.
"A little over 3 months."
Shepard watches as the woman steps closer, eying the monitors to which Shepard remains attached, "You were found amongst rubble in London, along with a good portion of the Citadel."
Shepard nods, hundreds of thoughts swimming in her head, but one has her on edge.
"My crew," she asks, her eyes finding those of her rescuer yet again. "The Normandy, what do you know?"
"Not much I'm afraid. With all the Mass Relays destroyed information doesn't travel quite as fast as it used to."
She smiles but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. She's lost someone too.
"Where am I?"
She's surprised it's taken Shepard this long to ask, but she replies readily, "You're in a Cerberus hospital. When I found you I had you brought here. You're in good hands Commander, I promise."
"That's twice Cerberus has saved my ass."
It's not quite grateful but it's as close as Shepard can get.
"I'm aware of your history with our organization. I assure you, I'm only here to help."
Shepard believes her. It's something about the pain she saw earlier, the loss in her eyes. She's not a terrorist, not a threat.
"Who are you," Shepard asks, already feeling the fatigue seeping back into her body.
"There'll be time for more questions later, just rest."
Shepard feels herself fading, sleep rising up to claim her.
"Your name…"
"It's Helena. My name's Helena."