Shepard's left arm was illuminated by the orange glow of the omni-tool. The message pinged and waited as she stared at the inbox. A message from her. Of all the people in the galaxy, her mother, Hannah, had to be the one to reach out to her since Elysium.

Shepard's fingers flicked angrily as her nurse flushed out her IV. The tubing curled down and around her right arm until it reached the IV at the top of her hand.

Barely a week after the invasion of Elysium and the Alliance was already making preparation for a celebration. She was still recovering. She'd probably have to use crutches or a wheelchair at the ceremony.

Shepard gritted her teeth. What about her squad? What about the civilians who fought alongside her? They deserved just as much recognition as her. Some died even because of her command, listening to her during the assault on the colony. She was still deemed a hero, though. The title didn't stop the guilt.

My little hero the subject heading read. A title trying to manipulate her into opening the message. It was probably just her begging for more money or telling Shepard how much of a horrible daughter is.

"Will you have any family attending? Oh, do you think they'll get to pin the medal on you? I always love those types of ceremonies," the nurse gushed as she slowly pushed the morphine into the IV. The constant chirping of the nurse was something Shepard was not thankful for.

Shepard watched carefully as the fluid traveled down the tubing. The nurse avoided using her underarm, possible to prevent the sight of the scars. Shepard was, however, thankful of the nurse for that.

The clear tubing seemed to highlight the track mark scars that filled the crook of her arm. Like the one's, she saw on Hannah growing up. Shepard might as well had been looking into a damn mirror when she saw them.

Six years since she stopped using and the scars were still there. The anger for her mother was still there. How long would the guilt last? Will it still be there like the scars?

Shepard sighed as she closed her omni-tool, allowing the message to sit there, waiting. If Shepard wanted to survive and move past her old life, opening old wounds wouldn't help. Going back to Earth to see her would only make it worse.

Hannah was no one to Shepard anyway. Always had been, always will. Shepard gave the nurse a slight smile as the morphine waved over her. "No, just me."


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