Alright, this is something I just wrote in an impulse. I have no idea how well it will be received and this is really just so I can see if I should continue this later. I have a rough plan for the next chapter, but it might be a while, you know, with all the exams coming up and stuff.

I know there's like a metric shit-ton of this kind of ME fanfics around, but like in all my stories, I try to keep it as original as possible.

This actually took me quite a while to write, not only because it's the most I've ever written for one chapter, but also because it's 1st person and I usually do 3rd.

Alright, enjoy and till next time. Cheers.

P.S. There's quite a lot of swearing, might rate it M later


~Chapter 1~

"Tell me corporal, how've you been holding up?"

I just looked at the doctor who was apparently supposed to make me better. Ha, I'd like to see that. "The dreams have gotten less, but they're still there. It's hard to think and even talk about it." I said to the women sitting in the leather chair opposite to me. She the stereotypical psychiatrist; her hair tied back into a ponytail, a fancy suit with a skirt that went to just above her knees, a notepad in her hands which she used to, well… make notes, and a pair of frameless glasses on a relatively makeup-less face. God, she annoyed the hell out of me.

"I understand, you've been through a lot."

I glared at her and she looked surprised at the sudden venom in my voice when I spoke.

"No, no you don't understand. You haven't been through the shit I've been through!" I noticed that I had started yelling as my sentence progressed and forced myself to calm down. To my (rather substantial) annoyance, she had recollected herself and just waited silently for me to finish my ranting.

"You're right, sorry. I can't fathom to understand how you feel right now, but I have dealt with a lot of soldiers like you and I have some experience with this."

I just huffed and relaxed in my chair a little more, but my glare remained in place. If I was going to be forced to go to this soul pincher, I was going to make sure to make her uncomfortable as well.

"I know that you probably don't want to, but it might help to talk about it and think of what exactly happened. Go by it step by step."

"I'd rather not."

"I think you should."

I sighed, she was probably right, even though I wouldn't admit it. "A lot of it is classified."

"Don't worry, I've been given clearance for this." I eyed her wearily, but started talking anyway.

"I should start at the beginning…"


3 months ago,
NATO operating base, Ukraine,
1945 hours

"C'mon, c'mon, push harder." Ronald, our squad medic and resident black guy, said as I bared my teeth as my arm started to hurt from the strain. I pushed harder and as I started to gain ground, I felt the resistance slacking. I made one more push and threw all my strength into it.

My opponents hand hit the table with a loud thump as he finally gave up. "C'mon Lars, pay up." Ronald said to our heavy weapons specialist as he held out his hand. "I won fair and square."

"Fuck you Ronald, you didn't win shit, Riley did." He said as he handed our medic his 10 dollars.

I smiled at my opponent, the ginger-bearded demolitions expert just sent me a dirty look, but didn't hold it long before it turned into wide grin. "Good match, Marc. Thought I would lose for a second there." I said as I grabbed a beer and threw it at him before cracking one open myself.

Marc and I had always been good friends. Ever since we went to boot camp and SpecOps training together the two of us had been close friends. We only split up on missions, when I was on overwatch and he was blowing shit up.

I'm not saying I don't like explosions, but there's just something about aiming those crosshairs over your target, feeling the wind and accounting for bullet drop before taking that last deep breath and squeezing the trigger. The feeling you get when the rifle kicks back and the bullet leaves the barrel, just amazing. Call me sadistic, but hey, I probably am. Who wouldn't after three years of working in a black-ops squad.

It was at that moment that our Sergeant, Michael Durant, a hard-ass fifteen year veteran, slammed the door open and yelled at us to gather our gear before he left to get his own.

"You know what's going on?" I asked my friend as I put on my dark grey vest over my digital urban camo. It was rather light-weight, expected from a sniper, but I certainly wouldn't say no to some more protection. Especially after last mission. Damn Seperatists spotted me, not that it helped those assholes much.

"Hmmm, perhaps he wants to know who of us looks best in our BDU's so he can marry us off to his daughter." He said with sarcasm overflowing from his voice.

"Geez mister sarcasm, you know what I mean."

"Yes I do." He answered with an annoying smug smile on his face.

I rolled my eyes, "Fuck you Marc."

"I'd rather you didn't." He grinned widely, "That would be uncomfortable for the both of us. Not that I have anything against gays, but you're really not my type."

I sighed and opened the door while putting my boonie hat on my head and made my way over to the briefing room together with the rest of the squad.

Sergeant Michael, or Mike as most people called him, was already there with the mission files and a few maps strewn across the table.

"Alright ladies, now that you're finally here, we can start the briefing. I won't beat around the bush with this, we're going to be deep behind enemy lines."

"Aren't we always?" Ronald remarked, causing the rest of us to chuckle. Well, sarge didn't, but he almost never laughs.

"Yes. As I was saying, we will be deep in hostile lands. I don't have to stress the diplomatic repercussions getting found out might have, so I'll just continue to the briefing." He pressed a button on his remote and a picture of a bald man wearing a nice suit getting in what seemed like an expensive car appeared on the screen behind him.

"This is Yuri Maskatov, codename: Omaha, a kingpin Russian arms trader. Intelligence has confirmed that he has been supplying the Ukrainian separatists with high-end weaponry that outmatches what the official government can field themselves. He is also responsible for a number of attacks on civilian transports, it is needless to say that this is the man we'll be taking out."

The picture changed into the map of a city and next to it one of a building.

"He is currently staying in the Treatralniy Hotel in Zhaporizhia. We expect that he has guards carrying M5K's and Makrovs, this won't be easy. We'll be going in quick and quiet, so bring your silencers and flashbangs. Callsigns only from the moment we touch down, so only take your dog-tags with those on them. Now get ready, we leave by Osprey in 30."

We all saluted and went to the armoury to get our guns and ammo.


Osprey oh-six-nine, flying over hostile territory,
2348 hours

We stood in a line in the Osprey's troop-bay, waiting for the all-clear signal. I checked Marc's parachute while Lars did the same with mine. Once everyone had checked their oxygen-gear and chutes of the person in front of them, Mike signalled the pilot to open the rear hatch.

As it opened, all I could see was a thick fog behind us, encasing the helicopter/plane hybrid in a dark blue blanket. Carl looked at me, I could almost see the grin behind his mask.

Sarge shouted at us over the loud noise of wind rushing just outside the hatch, "Alright! You know the mission! Kill the target, avoid capture, and get the fuck back out!" he looked at each of us through our protective glasses, "Tell me Hades! How do we go!"

"Like a ghost! Sergeant!" we all shouted back

"Go! Go! Go!"

We all ran down the ramp, into the black of night, forming in a halo shape by interlocking our arms. The feeling of freefalling was incredible. The wind rushing past you, the tumbling feeling in your stomach and seeing the ground come closer without a care in the world.

We disconnected our arms and pulled our cords when we were a little bit further away from each other. We came to a lurching halt and continued to descent slowly. Our target was a small clearing outside the city.

I took a few steps to dampen the fall as I hit the ground and quickly discarded my chute, cutting it off and hiding it in the bushes where the rest did the same. A few seconds later the crate containing our weapons landed. And almost on top of Lars. He was big, probably the tallest and strongest in our squad, but that doesn't really matter if you're hit on the head with a 60 kilo crate.

"Callsigns only boys, move out."

We made our way into the city slowly, being careful to avoid patrolling soldiers and policemen. We tread silently, our boots barely making any sound as four silenced M16A3's and a M429 LMG swept the corners.

"Archer, see that apartment complex? Get up on the roof and start marking guards." He shifted his gaze from me to Marc, "Crow, you remember where the hotel's generator is located?"

"Shouldn't be a problem, sir." Marc answered

"Good, I want you to place some charges on it and then report back to me. Archer will cover you while you infiltrate the building."

"Fine by me, Sarge."

"Alright, move out."

I obeyed his orders and made my way to the apartment building. It took me some time to find a way up, but after a while I found an old maintenance ladder that went all the way up. I slung my assault rifle on my back, right next to where my sniper rifle was.

I quickly ascended the dinky ladder and looked around the roof before stepping off and crouch-walked to the edge while grabbing my GOL sniper magnum. From there I could see the hotel clearly. I could also see more than a dozen guards, all armed with M5K's.

I quickly contacted the rest of Hades through our secure channel, "Sir, there's more hostiles than accounted for. At least a dozen s'far as I can see. Probably more inside."

"Noted, Archer, mark them and guide Crow to the maintenance entrance." He cut the connection and I contacted Marc.

"Crow, where are you?"

"Second street to your west."

I looked through my thermal scope at his direction, "I see you, coast is clear. Move to the next cover."

"Wait, hold position, hostile moving towards you." I waited until he was out of sight from the rest of his friends and squeezed the trigger, hitting the guard right in the centre of mass. I almost never went for the head on purpose, it was a little too messy for my taste, I like to keep my kills clean.

"Got'm, move up."

"I can see the door."

"There's one with his back turned towards you guarding the alley, I can't shoot him without attracting attention, but you should be able to take him out stealthily."

"Affirmative"

I followed his movement with my scope as he sneaked up on the unsuspecting guard an smiled when my friend put his hand over the guard's mouth and silently stabbed him in the neck. He dragged the body back into the alley and took position in front of the door.

You may ask: "Why didn't he shoot him? He had a silencer, right?"

Well, newsflash; silencers don't mute the sound of a gun, it'll muffle it and from distance you probably wouldn't hear it, but in these cases putting your knife in your enemy's neck is the more silent option.

Marc quietly opened the door and shot three bullets into an unsuspecting guard before dragging him into a dark corner. He went inside and I couldn't see him anymore, but I kept listening to his updates.

"Hallway's clear, moving towards the generator room."

"Hostile down, moving up."

"Uh… Sarge?"

He immediately got a reaction, "What is it Crow?"

"All the signs are in Russian, I don't know which door leads to the generator."

I heard the ruffling of papers as Lars grabbed the hotel's blueprints. "It's down the stairs, then left. Third door to the right."

"Alright, thanks Blue." a minute passed, "I'm in the generator room, setting charges."

I took off my hat and ran my hand through my short hair. This mission was a lot more stressful with my best friend's life on the line.

"Charges set, retuning now."

I watched as a minute later Marc came out of the building and try to make his way back to the rest of the squad the same way he came in.

He failed to notice the guard that had come to see why his buddy hadn't reported in yet. I could hear the fucker shouting when he saw my ginger-bearded friend. I quickly put an end to that with a bullet that went straight through his neck.

I wasn't fast enough though, the other guards had already raised the alarm and I saw three of them running towards Marc's position.

"Weapons free, Archer, keep Crow safe." Came the order I was waiting for, and within four seconds, three guards were dead.

"Crow, blow the charges. Doc and I will meet you there. Blue, head for the parking lot and keep them from getting away."

"Affirmative." Was Lars' short answer.

I saw another one poking his head out of cover. He fell to the ground a second later, the wall behind him splattered red and he now fancied a third eye on his forehead. I heard my team talking over the comm but ignored it, if they said something important, I would notice it.

Another guard fell to the ground, clutching his leg. He was out in the open, but I didn't kill him, no, I had a better idea. "And there he is…" I muttered quietly to myself, shooting the guy that was trying to get his friend behind cover and then quickly ending the wounded one's life. Yes, yes, I'm a sadistic cunt, I know.

The dumb fucks had finally realised there was a sniper somewhere, but too bad for them and great for me, the darkness of the night made it near impossible to spot me while they came up as bright red shapes in my thermal scope.

Apparently Lady Fate really didn't like me that day as I saw one of them pointing at me. He also didn't last very long, but once again I wasn't fast enough and several of them started peppering my position.

"Archer, Omaha is eliminated. What's your situation?"

"They know where I'm at, I'm gonna change positions."

"Don't. Meet us at the rendezvous point, we'll split up into two teams and make our way to the evac separately. Uphold radio silence until then"

"'Kay, packin' up now sarge."

I slung my GOL on my back and climbed down the sorry excuse for a ladder. The thing groaned under my weight and I had the idea it could break any moment.

My worries were unfounded though, as I made it all the way down and continued to the rendezvous.

I had been waiting at the RV-point for ten minutes, and there was still no sign of them. I was starting to get worried until –finally- the rest showed up. All except Blue. Why do they look so grim? I thought.

"Blue's dead. We couldn't get him out." That was painful. Not only to me, but to the entire squad. He was a good friend and would always cheer us up. I felt especially sorry for Ronald, he and Lars had been like brothers, practically as close as two men could be without being gay. Not that I have anything against gays, of course.

After a few short seconds of silent mourning we left in two teams, I with Crow, and Sarge with Doc.


Present

"You can stop if you don't want to talk about it anymore, but it might be best if you do." the women said when she noticed I had stopped talking and was staring into nothing.

"They all died. Every single one. They were my family and they died. Doc and Sarge were ambushed. They held out for a while, but we couldn't get there fast enough to save them. Marc was shot in the chest before our evac arrived. It pierced his lung. There was nothing I could do. Nothing I could do to save my friend's- no, my brother's life. He died on the Osprey, coughing up blood. Why are they dead and not me? Why did I have the right to live? If anything I should be dead too, not here telling my fucking life-story to a fucking women I've known for a grand total of two fucking hours. I have no one left."

I noticed my vision getting blurry with tears. "You know what the best part is? Marc asked me to do one thing before he died. He asked me to tell his girlfriend to bring the news. You know what happened?" she shook her head once more.

"I went over to their house, even got my dress uniform out of the closet for the first time in two years. I had always thought of his girlfriend as a really kind women, even saw her as sort of a sister. So I knocked on the door, letter in my hands. She didn't open, so I knocked again, and again, and again, but no one opened. I knew she was home, all the lights were on and her car was on the driveway, so I walked around to the back to see if she might be in the garden, reading a book or listening to music or somethin' else that might cause her not to hear me knocking on the door."

Two weeks ago

I opened the fence gate leading to the back yard, this place brought up too many memories, luckily they were all good.

I felt bad for Sarah, they always seemed so happy together, and now Marc was dead. He'd told me he wanted to ask her to marry him when he got back. He was planning the whole thing weeks in advance. I smiled wryly at the memory of him stressing over all kinds of things that were –if you ask me- rather irrelevant. But then again, I had always been a rather straightforward guy.

I exited the overgrown tunnel of leaves and stopped dead in my tracks. Sarah was there, and so was someone else. I didn't recognise him, that would be kind of hard with them seemingly trying to each other's face off.

I gritted my teeth, "Saar, this better not be what it looks like." I said and she turned around, eyes wide.

"Riley… wh-what are you doing here?"

The man seemed surprised, "Who are you?"

"I could ask the same thing from you. Why are you kissing my best friend's girlfriend?" I snapped at him.

"Dude, what are you talking about! Hey, back off! What are you doing?!" he shut up when I shattered his nose.

"Riley, what the hell?!"

"You know, I thought we might grieve together, but it seems you'll get over your boyfriend's death quite easily." Tears started to spring in her eyes,

"Riles, what are you talking about?" she asked with a quivereing voice, using the nickname only she and Marc were allowed to use.

"Marc is KIA, I came to bring the news, but I'll take my leave now." I said as I threw her the letter and turned around. I could hear her crying in the background, but I didn't turn around.


Present

I looked at the therapist again and she started to say something, but I cut in, "I would like to go home now."

She nodded understandingly, "Of course. I'll see you next week?"

I just grunted in approval and opened the door. It was dark outside, I must've been in there longer than I though.

The streets were crowded, even at this time, I checked my watch, 22:36. A guy walked up to me with a stack of flyers, but the glare I sent him quickly made him back away. I never liked the city, too much noise, too many people, and not enough fresh air. There's a reason I became a sniper. I like my conversations from a mile away, through my scope. At least Marc would make sure I communicated with people when we were on leave instead of me punching them.

"Aww… don't be so depressed dude, cheer up." A voice with a slight southern accent sounded behind me. I snapped my head around and stood stunned. Marc was standing there. Wearing the hoodie he usually wore when on leave and with a big shit-eating grin on his face. I couldn't help but smile.

But then the truth hit me like a bus at full speed. He wasn't real. I was at his fucking burial three days ago! "Go away, you're not real." Some people looked at me strange. I don't get why… Oh yeah, I was talking to someone that wasn't there.

"That ain't nice to say. I'm here aren't I? Why would I be fake?"

"Just shut up!" I shouted at nothing and turned around. I continued walking down the road that lead to the peer. Some fresh air would help, I decided.

"Hey! Dude, did I do something wrong? Riles, stop walking away from me!"

I couldn't take it anymore. I wanted to scream at him- it. I started running, barely restraining myself from drawing a gun in public and shooting the hallucination of my best friend.

I reached the pier and breathed in the fresh, salt sea air. Breathe in, breathe out, in, out. Oh god, I was going crazy. A thought came to mind. Did I have anything left to live for? No, I didn't. I didn't have any family left, my friends were all dead, damn, even my fucking dog died.

I had nothing and I was ready to jump off the pier. My body would go in shock as soon as it hit the ice-cold water and I could drown in peace. Yeah, that seemed like a good idea, but before I could do anything a man came to stand beside me by the railing.

He was wearing a black suit with a blue tie. I looked at his features, but as soon as I looked away I forgot them again. "Sooo… whacha doin' here?"

"Seeing how high this pier is." I answered truthfully.

"Why?" he asked.

"I'm really considering jumping."

"Really? That doesn't sound very healthy." No shit.

"Yeah, that's the point." Why was I talking so easily to him? I never did acted like this to a stranger, but something about him just made me want to talk to him.

"You want to die?"

"Dunno, s'not like there's anything left here for me."

"I could give you an alternative." Wait, what?

"Wait, what?"

"I could give you an alternative, a new start. Or let's say a continuation in a different universe."

"Sir, I think you should sit down, you're not making sense."

His eyes suddenly flashed orange. What the flying shitbucket! That ain't normal! I took a step back. "You don't believe me?"

"No, but hell, there's nothing left for me here anyway. What do I have to do?"

"That's the most beautiful part of it! Absolutely nothing."

"Anything I need to take with me?"

"No, everything will be taken care of. Now, goodnight." He said and my vision turned to black.


That's it, I hope ya liked it. Please don't complain about technical shiz if it comes to the military stuff, this is FICTION. Thank you, for reading and it would be really helpful if you reviewed. It'll help me improve my writing.

I might also be a little rusty on my knowlage of ME1, so correct me if I'm wrong in that aspect.