"Hey, Lola," James whispered, brushing his fingers over the white, marble headstone marking her grave. "Sorry I've not been to visit you in a while. Things got busy, you know, the N7 training, keeping Garrus company." He looked at the grave, almost expecting to hear her answer, but as always, none came.

"Yeah, I know. You'd be telling me to suck it up," he said, chuckling. He sat down, staring at the marble, reading the familiar inscription. His thick shoulders bunched, and he ran a hand over the back of his neck, tracing the tattoo that mimicked the grave.

Here rests Commander Jane Shepard.

Hero, soldier, lover, and friend to all races.

Savior of the galaxy and bringer of peace.

Let her always be remembered.

R.I.P.

James ran his finger over the J in her name. "I miss you, Lola. Not every day, like I used to, but sometimes, in the night. I can almost hear you, or I dunno, I catch a glimpse of you in the corner of my eye. I miss you then, that's when I need you to tell me I ain't loco." He shrugged. "Maybe I am loco, but, if it means I get to see you again, I'll take it."

He paused again, the perfect time for the other person to speak in normal conversation. He wasn't having one of those though, was he? No, he was talking to the dead. Taking a deep breath, he lowered his gaze.

"Sometimes, I wish ... damn it." He couldn't speak anymore. He never could, he had nothing to say. How did he explain his life to her? He worked out, got drunk with Garrus and worked out some more. No life, no ... spark. It's almost as if, when she died, she took his spark with her. All the happiness he used to feel didn't exist anymore, carried away with a giant wave of blue.

"I love you, Jane," he whispered, leaning forward to kiss her headstone. "I'll see you soon."

He stood, staring down for another minute, before he turned away. The journey through the graves brought a tightness to his chest. Seeing them all, thousands upon thousands of black, carved headstones, all heroes of the Reaper war stabbed at him. Each one hurt, but looking back, he knew he'd take the thousands, over the pain the one white gravestone brought to his chest. He'd rather see the death of millions, than watch hers again.

"Damn it, Lola, you should've let me come with you." He said it every time, remembering the scene as if it had been hours ago, rather than years.

She'd kissed him, one final time, back there, on the Normandy's ramp. Reapers, husks, soldiers and ships all screamed around her, but those words, falling from her lips had been the only thing he'd heard. Her voice had been harsh, full of smoke, but she'd still spoken, her bleeding body taking none of the steel from her tone. 'No matter what happens, I love you.'

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block it out, but couldn't. The image of her, running from him, leaving him behind nearly broke him again. Ever since he'd met her, he'd been at her side, always protecting her, always loving her. He'd been the one she ran to when things got tough. It'd been his arms she fell into each night, no one else's ... She should've let him go with her, even if it meant dying. At least then he wouldn't be alone. Nothing more than another jarhead.

He left the graves behind, heading back to the city. Time passed, faster than he could keep up with, even as it dragged, every second becoming a year. His feet carried him everywhere and nowhere, endlessly wandering through the streets. He knew he had to go back. Back to his one room apartment, with its bleak walls, single bed, microwave and weight bench. Her picture stood beside his bed, the only personalisation in the room. He didn't need anything else, just his Lola.

"James."

He turned his head, looking for whoever called him. No one seemed to be looking at him though, so he turned his back, hunching over as rain began to pour, soaking him to the skin.

"James."

Again, he couldn't see who called. Visibility became less and less as the rain began to get worse and he knew he couldn't just stand like a crazy person; someone would call the cops or something. He stepped out into the road, about to continue his aimless journey, when the voice called again, a note of steel he'd recognise anywhere lacing through the tone.

"James Vega. If you ignore me again, I'm going to kick your ass."

He spun around, turning full circle, trying to see his Lola. He knew her voice better than his own, and there could be no mistaking her tone. She was pissed.

"Over here, Love."

His gaze lit on a shop window, one displaying omni-tools. There, on the working model, was his lovers face. Gray eyes, softer than a dove's wing. Red hair, brighter than fire. Ivory skin, paler than the moon itself, and lips, more crimson than all the blood they'd shed together.

"Lola ... How? What?" he whispered, his fingers pressed against the glass. "How did you ..." James shook his head, closed his mouth and waited, as he always did, for her to speak.

"It's hard to explain, and I don't have much time, but I had to—Hold on." She flickered out of existence, making his heart almost stop.

"Lola! Shepard!" He didn't care what people thought, seeing a huge, scarred Marine pounding on the glass of Jerry's Discount Devices, as if his life depended on it. "Come back ... please."

"Will you shut the hell up?" came a harsh command. "Bloody hell, James, you'll get yourself arrested."

He looked down and there she was, on his omni-tool, her eyes alight with amusement. "Missed me, Love?" she asked him, after a long moment of him just breathing. Once the harsh sound of his breath dissipated, she smiled.

"More than you'll ever know," he murmured. He looked down, seeing into her strange glowing eyes. "How is this happening? You died, but ... you're here, talkin' to me."

"I've been trying to track you for ages, following you around to get close enough to jump to your omni-tool," she explained, her face taking on a serious expression. "You can't tell anyone, this is ... this is just for you, because I couldn't bear to see you hurtin' so bad anymore."

Her answer confused him even more. His brow furrowed. "Still not helpin', Lola," he said, rain dripping down his face. He looked around, deciding to move into cover from the downpour. Ducking under the cover of a random door, he crouched, keeping his omni-tool close to his face. To passers by, he'd look like someone trying to talk over video link.

"Like I said, I can't explain. I'm ... dead, I guess, but not." She stopped, frowning. "I'm not physical any more. I'm ... a consciousness. I control the Reapers, make them work, build and stop them harvesting. I've been watching you, trying to find a way to talk to you, to tell you-"

"To tell me what?"

"That I love you, and I'm proud of you, for looking after, Garrus and finishing your N7 training. But, I also want to tell you to let me go. To move on, stop drinking and stop wallowing in misery. You're better than this, Love, drinking and gambling isn't the James I know." A scowl hardened her features. "You need to live. Don't live in the past, wishing for things that can never be. Move on, have beautiful children, move back home, teach them how to be like you, the man I love."

He shook his head. "I can't. I need you. I've always needed you," he whispered, his finger tracing her face over the holo. "You're the only reason I did any of it. I was ready to give up, but you blazed into my life, took my heart and didn't let go. I can't, Lola, I just ... can't."

"It wasn't a request, soldier." Her face took on the mask he knew so well. She meant every word and him, being her soldier, always loyal, nodded his head before he could stop himself.

"I won't forget you, Jane. Not now, not ever," he vowed, leaning down to kiss her image. "I love you, and always will. I wish you could stay."

"So do I, but I can't. I'll visit again, to make sure you're doing as you're told." A small smile spread over her lips. "I can't wait to see your children."

"I'll tell them about you, teach them to be like you, I'll never forget. I love you."

"I know."

She faded from his omni-tool, leaving nothing more but the sound of rain to comfort him.


James Vega let out a deep breath, meeting the eyes of Jane. He'd caught sight of her the moment his daughter entered the world. She'd seen his miracle, witnessed the birth of his child. He held his daughter close to his chest, tilting her so Jane could see.

"Lola," he whispered to his wife, Liz. "I ... I want to call her 'Lola.'"

Shepard smiled, a tear leaving her eyes.

He'd kept his word, he'd moved on, met someone else, but in his heart, he still held her memory. No longer a burden, but something good, something to drive him to live again.

James watched, smiling as Lola stared at the ghostly face of his commander, his lover, his friend. Something passed between them, something as deep as the oceans of Kahje, as vast as a galaxy and as unique as a star. His daughter would know this woman as well as he did, because he would make sure of it. He kissed his daughter's brow, smiling against her warm skin.

"Be safe and well, little one," she whispered, just loud enough for James and the baby to hear.

He knew she'd come back, checking in on him until his time in the galaxy ran out. She still loved him, as much as a consciousness could and he knew she always would. Jane smiled, one last time, and he could see the hope in her eyes. Hope for the future of his child.


James, dressed in his military blues, walked down the aisle with his daughter on his arm. He smiled, the smile of a proud father. Lola walked beside him, her face veiled, dressed in lace and ivory silk. His chest swelled as he looked down at her, the smile still playing on his lips, even though a tug of sadness hit him. She would have loved this.

"You look so beautiful, Lola," he whispered. "I love you."

"I know," she whispered back. "I love you too."

His hands trembled a little as he passed hers into her soon to be husbands. An age old tradition, one many fathers had to do, severing his responsibility for her wellbeing. He backed away, sitting down on the front pew to watch his child get married to the man she loved.

"James."

"Hey, Lola," he murmured, catching sight of her gray eyes in his omni-tool. "Couldn't resist the party?"

"She looks happy," Jane replied, watching the couple kiss.

He nodded, his eyes slightly damp. "He's a good guy, solid. He's been there for her, after ..." He broke off, not wanting to explain about his wife, about the divorce, or the reasons behind it.

"I miss you," she said softly, looking as though she wanted nothing more than to reach out to him.

Her words warmed the part of him that had been cold ever since she'd died. "I know."

"Guess it's a good thing I don't have a body, huh?" she asked, chuckling. "You'd think, now I'm some badass entity, that I'd be given more than two left feet."

He grinned. "Not all dancing is done on the dance floor, Lola," he whispered, an old heat in his eyes. It faded once more. It hurt him, to know that she wasn't holding his hand, the mother of his child, with him on the day no father wanted to come.

"I love you." His words were hushed, nearly drowned out by the cheers of the crowd as the couple said 'I do.'

"I know."

He didn't look down, didn't take his eyes from his daughter, already knowing his Lola had gone.


Breathing, harsh, labored and desperate filled the quiet hospital room. Each one tore through James, bowing his body off the bed. Time it seemed was against him and he couldn't help but wonder if he'd see her again, his Lola, just one last time ... before the end. He lay alone, his daughter on another planet, unable leave her children, his wife gone. She'd left him, a relief really, for both of them. They'd remained friends, for Lola, until she passed. He'd tried to follow his commanders orders, but he couldn't love her like he loved Jane. She'd always known and he felt guilty for hurting her, but how could he switch his heart off? He couldn't.

His chest tightened and another cough broke the silence.

"James."

"I knew you'd come, Lola," he whispered, looking over at the monitor beside his bed. "Couldn't resist me, huh?" He winked, some of his former spark returning to his eyes, before it faded again. "I'm tired."

"I know," she said, longing in her tone. "It's coming, soon."

He smiled, meeting her eyes. His once chocolate irises now coated in a film of white, as if time itself had coloured them. "I'm ready. I kept my promise, but now, I just wanna ... sleep." He coughed, blood coating his lips. "Make it stop, Lola, please. Don't let this drag out. It's time."

"Close your eyes," she whispered. "I love you."

"I know."

He closed his eyes and machines began to shut down, one by one, until the beeping stopped. The one feeding him pain medication didn't stop, keeping the warm, numbing fluids pumping into his withered body. He opened his eyes, wanting her face to be the last he saw before he died.

James stared into the unfathomable depths of her eyes, as his body made its final push to peace. Her soul bared to him, in that final moment and he could see the love she held still. It both warmed and saddened him, knowing that never again would they touch, kiss or love. He would fade into the void, and she would live on, standing sentinel to all life, protecting it, guiding it, remaining its hero until the end of time.

One last breath left his body and James Vega slipped from the world, watched over by his Lola.