For reyavie, so that she didn't have to wait too long :D
Who do you serve and who do you trust?
"Shepard…?"
"Anderson. Good to see you."
Seeing him on the vidcom was a mild shock, even despite knowing already; seeing him there, in his office, with a glass of vodka, is disconcerting at best. Listening to his story of coming back from the dead is… well… with Shepard, not so completely unbelievable as with anyone else.
Only the whole time they are speaking, Anderson keeps wondering what it is that's sitting in front of him.
– Shepard, genetically; the C-Sec scans can't be mistaken in this, but what's inside? Inside, not just under the biological surface and the synthetic additions that protrude under the barely healed skin of the face, marred with rectangular scars. Is it still Shepard, down there?
Two years is a long time… enough time to bring a dead man back, to reconstruct him to his previous self? Or to break and brainwash a living one?
The thought fills Anderson with cold anger surging deep within, and no less cold nausea: would I be able to tell the difference?
So far, all he can see and hear is Shepard, with some physical changes here and there: that could have been expected, given the extent of surgery that apparently had to be performed. The man also talks and behaves like Shepard, every single mannerism that Anderson has observed over the time is there.
So is a great deal of tension: kept in check, and well-concealed except to those who know him well.
Most of the time, Anderson lets him speak on his own, to give himself the time to assess and to think, to either quench or flare those doubts gnawing at him ever since he saw the footage from Freedom's Progress: Shepard with two people, a man and a woman, wearing distinct Cerberus emblems.
Damn.
He watches Shepard almost constantly, from under the lids, knowing how unnerving the look can be – and knowing that Shepard would recognize it.
By all accounts, he does, though he doesn't show it much.
Let's see.
The story of a miraculous resurrection is coming to an end, and as Shepard narrates the Collectors' attack on Freedom's Progress, Anderson can almost see The Illusive Man's face smirking in the background.
There's but one way to go about it.
"Just one thing: what exactly were you doing on Freedom's Progress… Shepard?"
Shepard freezes for an instant. "What do you mean? What the hell do you think I was doing there, Anderson? Are you suggesting I was somehow involved?" Towards the end, Shepard is raising his voice, the hurt and anger getting the better of him.
It used to be very rare to get Shepard carried away like that: ouch, this must have hit a nerve. Without a flinch, Anderson delves head first into the confrontation. "The Connor Shepard I knew would rather gut himself than work with Cerberus," he says harshly.
Shepard is starting to breathe rapidly. "The list of people who have actually had the pleasure to see my gut is rather extensive these days, so you may as well consider the deed done. What's your beef with me, Anderson? That I had no say in what was being done with my fucking corpse? Or that I didn't have the decency to slit my wrists when I found out that I served as a resurrection exercise for Cerberus? What would you have me do, huh? I woke up to find out that you've screwed two fucking years doing nothing while the Reapers are preparing for an invasion and people are disappearing by thousands? Would you really expect me to use this new life just to shut up and fall in line? I hate Cerberus as much as I always did but if they're the only ones actually doing something, then what choice do I have? Tell me, Anderson, can you rally the Alliance? Will they get their heads out of their arses and finally start doing something? Tell me you can do it, and I'm all yours, screw the Cerberus! You can't? Then I'll make do with any tool I can find and worry about the consequences later! Really, Anderson, what else would you expect me to do?"
In the silence after his outburst, Shepard abruptly breaks the eye contact and turns his head away.
Anderson lets the silence linger, then sits back comfortably and sips his drink, suppressing the urge to smile contently. "Just for the record," he says calmly, "I kept droning about the Reapers to people who refused to hear and see so long that I was simply ordered to shut up. Without you to support the story… It turned out that a dead hero is more convenient than the living one: doesn't talk back. That's how it went, Shepard. They put their heads into their arses, and refused to acknowledge that the threat is real. And now that you are back and working with Cerberus… they'll listen even less. They'll discredit you. Tear you to pieces. Drag through the mud."
The whole time Anderson is speaking, Shepard is watching his hands: at a close look, those rectangular scars are also there, only well-healed. Finally, he raises his eyes. "I know, Anderson," he says tiredly. "I got spaced, not stupid. But… someone has to do something, to try at least, to stop the Reapers, and to deal with the Collectors, because these two definitely have something in common, or I'm a krogan. So, I'll do what I can. Do you see any other option?"
Anderson mentally curses but aloud he says: "We're both old enough to know that sometimes you have no other choice but to do something you really don't want to. The thing is… this might turn out too dangerous even for you to handle. There may be facts you do not see, you are not aware of… maybe you think that you are in control now but it might get out of hand quickly, without you even knowing."
Shepard snorts. "'Spaced, not stupid', Anderson. You're preaching to the choir. But… I appreciate your concern."
I don't want to see you paying for something you're doing in earnest, Anderson ponders, 'cause the road to hell, as they say… "I guess you expect more than concern from me, though. I agree that there is little choice, so I'll pull all the strings I can to keep the Alliance off you tail." And hope that Cerberus isn't pulling yours. "Don't expect support from them, but at least they won't be a hindrance. You can bet on winning Hackett to your side quite safely, and reinstating your Spectre status would be a boon… given that the Council owes you, that shouldn't be so difficult to arrange."
Shepard visibly shrugs off some of the tension. "That's exactly what I need. And…"
"Yes?"
"One more thing. Something more… personal." Shepard hesitates. "I need you arrange something for me…absolutely discreetly. Thorough medical scanning, with someone completely trustworthy." To Anderson's raised brow, he explains: "I had Chakwas run every test she could think of, but… that ship is controlled by a bloody AI, how do I know that it's not changing the readings? The Illusive Man claims they didn't plant any controlling device in my brain but I believe him only as far as I can throw him. I'm stuffed with implants from head to toe, I need to be sure. Or as sure as can be arranged. And while you're at it…" he sets his eyes into Anderson's, "feel free to run every test you can think of – lie detector, serum of truth, whatever." A quirk of his mouth. "Just as long as it stays confidential and you don't let Udina watch."
Damn you, that was a low blow. "Shepard…"
He gets the look 'and-don't-pretend-you-weren't-contemplating-this'. "I mean it."
Sure. I can see that you wholeheartedly believe what you are saying. No test will reveal if you are being manipulated, though. "I'll arrange the scans… the other thing is not necessary."
Shepard cocks his head. "I won't be making this offer twice, Anderson. If you still have doubts about me, go ahead with it."
"Stuff it, Shepard. I don't doubt you." The Illusive Man is a different kettle of fish, though.
Shepard smiles, fleetingly. "Are we clear, then?"
"We're clear," Anderson confirms, and blocks the what-ifs for the time being. He gets up from his chair. "You might want to wait here while I talk to the Council… best not have you parade around until this gets resolved." Or just in case.
An uncomfortable pause. "Alright. I don't want to inconvenience you if it doesn't go as smoothly as you think." He gets up, too. "Thank you, Anderson, for everything…" A smirk. "And for the drink."
The glass is almost full; Shepard was never much into vodka. I knew this was a lame test, really.
As they shake hands, Anderson obeys the impulse and briefly pulls the younger man into an embrace, stiff shoulders and all. "Good to have you back," he mutters, unable to keep his voice from getting hushed. "How are you coping?"
The answer comes also sort of muffled. "Learning to deal with two years'… absence. Synthetic parts… and the like."
"So bad?" Anderson asks softly.
Shepard half-shrugs. "Could be worse, I guess. Physically, I'm fine – in a better shape than before, I guess. Other than that… I definitely keep snapping at people more often than I used to." He drops his eyes. "Sorry 'bout what I said before."
"Never mind. Come by snapping any time you feel like it."
Shepard nods, visibly uncomfortable, and so Anderson quickly says before the both get too emotional: "Don't you need anything else from me? Would you like me to get in touch with your mother, to –?"
"Unnecessary. I sent her a message just before the Normandy landed on the Citadel. She has played it by now."
And has most probably replied. "You will want to get back to your ship, then."
"But you said – "
"I know what I said. And now I say, get back to the Normandy." And, for the sake of the man he used to know, Anderson casts caution aside. "Probably better if you stay there until I let you know how my dealings with the Council went…and in case the shit hits the fan, I'll try to give you the time to get out."
Even before, it was a rare event to see Shepard's face beam like a boy's. "Thanks, Anderson. I knew you wouldn't fail me."
If only I could be so sure myself. "Get you going."
When the door closes behind Shepard, Anderson empties his glass and takes the time to recall every single swearword he knows, to curse The Illusive Man to the seventh hell. After that, he refills the glass and raises it in a toast. "Good to have you back, Shepard."
Gosh, I'm so stupidly glad to have you back.
This time, I'll be ripping the titles from the B5 spin-off, Crusade, with all due credits to MJS for the awesome work.
