So after playing the Citadel DLC, I was interested in writing out some one shots like the biography data pads in Anderson's apartment. I completely, 110 percent believe that Shepard would eventually get someone to type all of this up. It's going to be random order, from childhood to even after the ending of ME3. Hope you guys enjoy!

Childhood

So this is really happening. I never really thought the company would – I mean I know everyone wants to hear about me but – I think I didn't want this to happen, you know? Digging up the past is just…it's painful sometimes. Things I'd like to forget.

I got the questions over here…and of course the first question is about my parents. You guys know how to pick 'em, really.

I don't really know where to start with them. I was born in North America, maybe in New York? All I know is that it wasn't a pretty place; the place was crawling with criminals and aspiring mercs who wanted to find their big break. For the most part though, they ended up working for gangs and it was a big deal if you managed to suck up to the boss and earn a decent amount of money.

My parents were really young when they had me, according to my records. For the longest time, I didn't even remember their names; god, I could remember the day they left as if it were yesterday, but the most I could remember of them was that my mom's name might have started with a B. Hardly even saw my father most nights, so I was lucky if I even remembered to call him "dad."

After the war…it took some coaxing, but I finally decided to look them up. Took weeks before the clerks even found my file in the system, back from when I was staying in the orphanage. Two names: Rebecca Shepard and Tom Hardison. Unmarried. Young. Gone by the time I finally found out who they were. I wasn't like I was crushed by the news; what I remembered of our "family," we weren't exactly functional. Older me realizes that the pack dad brought home wasn't dessert for mom and dad; it was red sand cut with something that, truthfully, I don't want to know about.

But there was a bright side to it all. Turned out that I had grandparents. My mom's parents were loaded, an uppity family from Manhattan that didn't want much from me until they realized that they were speaking to Commander Shepard, savior of our galaxy. I met them, once, and promptly decided that I was better off without them.

Now my dad's parents were a different story. Turned out military was in my blood; grandma Roselyn was a Captain on an old Alliance frigate back in the day. Grandpa Will was supposed to be on the ship that would end up making first contact with the Turians, but mommy dearest went into labor early; apparently everyone was on good terms, once upon a time. Hoped my dad would follow their example, become an Alliance tech or something and support his new family. It didn't…it obviously didn't work out so well.

Will was gone by the time I went looking for them. Roz told me it was at home, peaceful. It was just his time. Kinda envy him; the day I die, I'll probably go down fighting. Spectres don't exactly have a retirement plan set up, although I haven't thought to ask.

Roselyn was a communication's specialist who analyzed signals. Stuff like confirming validity of stress signals to avoid unnecessary fights. And apparently she was damn good at it, but then she decides that she's going to join the fight. The way she talks about it, her life didn't start until the day she rushed into a battle.

It was hard, telling Roz everything that happened after her kid ceased all contact. According to her, one day Tom was in their lives and the next it was like he, Rebecca, and I didn't even exist. Just…disappeared. I guess it happens, sometimes. Didn't help that they were more worried about their next fix than their child or family, I'm sure. But now that I've met her, I don't know how my father ever turned out like he did. I know she would have kicked my ass into shape; she's a terrifying woman when pissed.

The rest of my childhood…I was tossed from foster home to foster home for years after my parents left. None of them were pretty good. Most of the time it was a poor family looking for another mouth to not feed while they kept the money. Years of improving the foster system and the government still can't make sure the money is going the right place.

The people I ended up with, the last home I was placed in, didn't really care what I did with my time. So when I ran, it wasn't like they missed me; they missed the nice paycheck that arrived once a month. I ran with…unsavory crowds. I don't know how else to phrase it. To a kid who had never really had a person to turn to, I didn't really know what family was. Show even a modicum of care for a child who has felt unwanted for most of her life, and she'll do anything for you. I…I don't like talking about it. The psychologists told me that I should just move on with my life, and I have – really, I'm a functioning human being – but some things never leave you.

I lived on the streets for about…six years, I think? Knew I needed to get out, a very powerful man on my ass about joining him at the head of power or some bs that he thought might impress me. A man that you didn't just say no to. I was 16, almost 17 at the time and I was at the prime of my power on the streets, but it was dwindling; the man only wanted one thing and if you give it up too much or don't give it up at all, they get tired of you. Mine was the latter.

That was when I met Captain Anderson. He was already well known by then; the first N7 operative. Ran into him while I was trying to find some credit chits. He used to tell the story all the time, about how he tried to give me his change and instead I'd almost run off with his entire wallet. Anderson wasn't big on making scenes though, so he stopped me before I could leave and instead of arresting me like he should have, he sat me down and paid for my dinner. Talked to me. It was the first time…the first time I felt cared for.

That man…he was like a father to me when no one else was. Made sure to get my number, checked on me as much as he could when he was on Earth. He's the reason I decided to enlist when I turned eighteen. If I could be half the person Anderson ever was, then I would be proud of myself. When I gave him the news he was absolutely ecstatic. To have someone tell you how proud they are of you…most people don't understand that when you were put down for so long like I was, hearing those words makes you feel like you can do anything. And…I guess I did, in the end.