Author's Note: What is this? An Author's Note already? Sheesh. As a disclaimer, I own NOTHING and am simply writing this because I have no life. This is my take on Shepard's post-Mass Effect 3 life, and I hope you like it! Also, I will be publishing another fanfic involving a Drell assassin! Hopefully, it'll be out there by next week or so. Back to the point of this Author's Note, however, my Shepard—we will call him Jason—was mostly Paragon, but as you'll see he's troubled by the few Renegade decisions he's made. Enjoy, and please review! Thanks!

Chapter 1: Nightmares

"Is he still with us?"

"Yeah. But just barely."

"How do you survive something like that?"

"He's already died before, remember?"

Commander Jason Shepard found himself at the base of the crumbling Shroud. After watching the Mother of all Thresher Maws, Kal'Ros, devour a Reaper under the hot sand of Tuchanka, he immediately turned his attention back to the purpose of the mission. To cure the Genophage.

Mordin Solis was waiting for Shepard, vigorously typing away at a console controlling the dispersal of the cure. Shepard took only a moment to catch his breath before asking, "Mordin, is the cure ready?"

"Yes, loaded for dispersal in two minutes. Procedure traumatic for Eve, but Maelon's research invaluable."

"She's okay?"

Mordin nodded, not raising his head from the console. "Headed to safety now. Her survival fortunate. Will stabilize new government should Wrex get any ideas. Good match; promising future for Krogan."

A piece of the Shroud the size of a small shuttle fell and crashed less than twenty meters away from Shepard. "Damn!"

Mordin didn't skip a beat. "Control room at top of Shroud," he explained, gesturing to the top of the tower, "Must take elevator up."

Shepard stood stunned. "You're going up there?"

Mordin removed himself from the console and viewed his omni-tool. "Yes. Readings in lab suggest temperature malfunctions. Could affect cure viability. Need to adjust settings manually."

Shepard's heart dropped. He hadn't warned Mordin about how STG had sabotaged the Shroud to hinder any attempts at dispersing a cure for the Genophage. He needed to delay Mordin, maybe even convince him not to go up to the control tower. "It's too dangerous, Mordin! We need to get out of here!"

"No, temperature variants could destroy cure. Time running out. Have to go up."

Shepard bowed his head in defeat. "Mordin…you're not going up."

Mordin stared at him incredulously, and then began thinking out loud. "Not concerned for my safety. Concerned I might discover something. Sabotage? But whose—" Mordin paused in grim realization. "Ah."

Mordin scowled at Shepard. "Why, Jason? That desperate for Salarian aid? Or that afraid of Krogan?"

Mordin turned and started towards the elevator. Shepard followed, arguing, "Every time we've talked about this before, you've defended the Genophage! Hell, I had to talk you into saving Maelon's data! How could you change your mind now?"

Mordin broke his stride and turned, his face inches from Shepard's, and shouted, "I made a mistake!"

He took a deep breath, backed up a bit, and collected himself. "I made a mistake…focused on big picture. Big picture made of little pictures. Too many variables. Can't hide behind statistics. Can't ignore data. My responsibility. Need to go. Running out of time."

"Mordin," he drew his pistol, as much as it pained him to, "Walk away."

Mordin held his gaze for a few moments before retorting "Can't do that, Jason."

Shepard held the sight steadily at Mordin's head. "I don't have a choice. Walk away, or I will fire."

Mordin closed the gap between them again. "Not your decision. Not your work. Not your cure! Had to be me." There was a moment of intense silence as the Shroud continued crumbling around them. "Someone else might've gotten it wrong."

He turned towards the elevator, sneering at Shepard over his shoulder. "No time to argue. Cure dispersal imminent. Must counteract sabotage. Stop me if you must."

With that, he continued towards the elevator. Shepard's hands were shaking, and the sight was moving almost uncontrollably, but he managed to get off a single shot. The shot hit Mordin directly center-mass, toppling him over, but not before he hit the ascend button in the elevator.

Shepard choked back tears as he watched the elevator doors close, and witnessed Mordin's eyes were full of hatred. What have I done?

Shepard turned and walked away. Tears streaming down his face, he flung his pistol across the room, leaving the evil weapon to rest with the evil deed it had committed.

That he had committed…

"C'mon, Loco, you got this. Kick this coma's ass!"

"James, I don't think he can hear you…"

"Well, Scars, what else am I supposed to do? Stare at him while he sleeps?"

"It'd be a lot quieter in here…"

Shepard could smell sea salt. Odd. He tried to remember what had happened, but all he could recall was Harbinger, the Citadel and…a God-child?

He lifted his head to see he was on a beach. He gazed out to the ocean, waves crashing on nearby rocks. He heard footsteps encroaching. His first instinct was to reach for his pistol, but it was nowhere to be found. As the footsteps drew closer, Shepard panicked.

"Shepard," called a familiar voice, "Where have you been? You've been holding up the party!"

Shepard recognized instantly that the man speaking was none other than Mordin Solis, his favorite scientist Salarian.

The man he had killed on Tuchanka.

"Mordin…I-I'm so sorry…"

"Hm? Oh. That. Don't worry, Shepard. After thinking on it for some time, I realized that you were right. Krogan too unstable. Couldn't risk another Krogan Rebellion."

Jason bowed his head in solemn despair. "Don't you understand, Mordin? I killed you! I shouldn't be forgiven so readily!"

Mordin shrugged. "Why not? Afterlife all about forgiveness. Why not forgive past sins?"

"Afterlife? Am I…dead?"

"No, simply going a bit mad. Feeling guilty about deaths of so many old teammates—myself, Tali, Ashley, Wrex—you slipped into stress-induced coma after charging the Reaper beam on Earth."

"So...I'm just slowly going insane."

Mordin nodded. "Precisely." He bent over, examined a seashell, and picked it up, placing it in his pocket. "For my studies." He formed a Salarian smile across his lips.

Shepard cracked a smile and chuckled under his breath. He sighed, staring out into the ocean. "So, where's everyone else?"

Shepard turned to see Mordin intensely examining a plain seashell. "Never seen a plain one. Only striped and spotted. Truly unique find." Mordin picked his head up from the seashell and smiled at Shepard. "And to answer question, they will be here soon enough."

"When?"

Mordin frowned. "Why, I don't know. That is up to you, Shepard. As your psyche deteriorates, I predict you will see more dead friends. You are going insane, remember?"

"Yeah, I can kinda tell. I think you just spoke in a full sentence."

He shrugged. "Could have. Afterlife does strange things to people."

Before Shepard could even chuckle at Mordin's newfound ability to string together full sentences, a bright flash of light overcame him. "And this is where we must part for now Shepard. Until next time. Try not to go insane. Wouldn't be fun that way."

"Hey, guys, I think he's waking up!"

"Not possible, his vital signs were just in a state of hibernation!"

"Well, tell that to him! He's getting up!"

Author's Note: Another one already? My God, take the keyboard away from this guy. Let me tell you, it was painful to do this to Mordin in game, AND in writing. And, obviously, he's regretting the deaths of some more friends. Watch as Shepard slowly loses his sanity! Fun!

Rated M for future possibilities.

And also, I don't own any of this. I just have too much spare time on my hands.