A/N This is something I've been working on for a LONG time. I originally started writing it back in November 2013, but I could never build up the courage to finally get an account at and get it out there until now so it's a bit old. Hopefully its still good! This is my attempt at a Mass Effect SI. Please Read & Review, I can take anything you throw at me!

(Revised as of 9-22-14)

"I would've never thought the impossible to exist, it's impossible for a reason right?" My mother said while bringing a speared head of broccoli to her mouth.

I look at her in absolute amusement, she always had a closed-minded view of the world, always pessimistic and paranoid. I myself am a bit more open-minded so I stop eating for a second and stare at her as if she had just turned into a bird and started squawking that the 'British were Chinese'. She ignores me so I scoff and go back to my food.

Out of the corner of my eye I can see my dad ignoring both of us in favor of nursing his glass of water so no-one disturbs his nice meal. He was an army man, he did three tours in Iraq and decided to come home after the last one, that was almost a year ago.

He's the bravest person I've known in my short life and the only thing that scares him more than terrorists... is his wife.

"Honey, could you pass the salt?" He asks his wife even though the salt was closer to me. He wanted to end any future debates between she and I, but mother saw right thorough him like always.

"Do you realize that ignoring your only son isn't the best way to re-start your relationship with him?" She sneers more than states after nearly stabbing her fork onto the table in rage.

I look up from my plate just in time to see my father blink and look at me almost ashamed. I turn and scowl at her, she always played to his emotions and it wasn't funny. Not one bit.

"Uh, son? Could you pass the salt?" He looks extremely uncomfortable at this point, why wouldn't he? He's never had to go up against mom-zilla before and he wasn't trained to deal with an angry house-wife in the army.

"Sure dad." I hand him the salt and smile at him to try to alleviate his nervousness. He just nods and goes back to eating quietly.

...

...

"So, how was your day?" We look up and see mother staring at both of us, we pretend to not hear her and go back to our meals.

It's been really awkward since my father came home. I like him and completely understand who he is as an introvert, I'm one as well, but my mother believes that isn't enough and forces us to be involved in the family. Hell before he came home we didn't even have dinner at the kitchen table! Then all of a sudden she expects us to be this perfect family as soon as he arrives.

I shake my head as I chew my steak.

I've been eating where I'm comfortable for seven years and she just expects it all to be erased over night.

I sigh as I finally finish up my meal, dad looks at me and I can see in his eyes he wishes he could leave as well. He shouldn't have to suffer through these things.

Finally I look opposite of him and glare daggers at my mother as she takes a bite of toast. I catch her in the eye and she freezes, I had an extremely dangerous glare and she hated that it almost surpassed her own. She puts the toast down after a few second and continues chewing while not backing down or blinking. We continue this battle of wills. A lion against a mother bear.

I look out of the corner of my eye and see my dad start to shift uncomfortably as he chews his meal.

Poor guy.

This goes on for about seven minutes until she finishes eating and can fully glare back. Her eyebrows crease in concentration and her eyes spell murder, by her own definition she could stare down a gunman without anyone getting hurt with that look, and I believed her for much of my life.

I smirk at her as her eye starts twitching from lack of moisture.

Until I found my own glare. I've been told it's like staring down the barrel of a gun that's pressed against your forehead and you hear a click, right before it fires.

Dad looks between us like we're the two alpha wolves about to fight over who could lead the pack, and he isn't far off from the truth. We always fight, no matter what I always fight with her. I redouble my efforts as her eye stops twitching.

I have time, I always have time and she knows it. She on the other hand is very impatient.

She growls and finally blinks as she throws her hands into the air in frustration, "Fine! We don't have to eat at the table anymore! All I wanted was a nice family get together for all of us to share our day's events like a normal family, but apparently that's too much to ask for!"

I deepen my glare, "You do realize that we're extremely uncomfortable eating in public? So eating in front of each-other isn't going to be any better?" I try to explain like usual.

She scoffs and pushes her chair back fast enough for it to fall over and crash against the tile of the kitchen floor two meters back. "Fine! Then you can both just go back to your caves! I'm done! If you two don't want to talk to me then both of you can just fuck off!" She turns to leave, but just stands there for a moment. Dad goes to speak but I raise a hand to stop him and he slouches in his seat to pick at the rest of his meal. Finally, mother stomps off to her own room and slams the door, leaving us in silence.

She was thrown out of her house at sixteen by her parents and forced to work three jobs to survive until she met dad. So psychologically she developed an idea that if someone doesn't like her or if someone gets too close to her then she was going to get hurt, which AUTOMATICALLY meant her life meant nothing. Over the years it's manifested into paranoia and bitterness towards everyone outside of her house and work. Hell, it took two years for dad to convince her that he wasn't abandoning her by joining the army! I'm studying to be a psychologist and like to analyze people so that's what I've observed.

I love her as my mother, but she has a lot of unresolved psychological issues.

Dad sighs as he stands, "I'll go talk to her when she calms down. I am a bit curious about how your day went though."

I blink and shoot my eyebrows up to my hair-line to stretch out my face from the strain of glaring for twelve minutes straight.

Damn, how the hell does my face not freeze permanently like that?

I look over to him sadly, "It was normal, a bit weird in the driving department, but overall I can't complain."

He nods and finishes his water before we both collect our plates and head to the sink.

"Yeah, same here, I'm not sure why but it seems like all the slow drivers just pop out of the woodworks around four." I nod in agreement and we walk over to the kitchen and start washing the dishes like usual.

It seems like this happens every night. We come home to relax and enjoy a meal and it turns into family share time, then a fight between me and mother breaks out that turns into her going to her room or ordering me to go to mine, and on the nights that she goes to her room David, I call my dad David, and I end up talking about how our day was once we finish our respectable meals. THAT is the daily dinner routine of our family, I think its pretty normal for our living situation. At least we aren't out on the street or in massive debt. My mother's paranoia is perfect for dealing with car dealers, bankers, sales people, pretty much anyone trying to sell something goes under her scrutiny until they break.

It's just who she is I guess.

We finish washing the dishes and dry them before putting them away like usual. I nod to him and he nods to me, just a mutual respect between two adults.

I already told him I hatted being called 'son' or 'kid' or 'boy' so we stick to names when in private and switch back to appease mother whenever she's around. Even if it makes us feel uncomfortable.

I'm nineteen for god sakes! I have a job! I pay rent! I'm going to College! I don't need to come home to being called a demeaning nickname out of tradition.

We walk down the hall and towards our own rooms. We stop at the crossroads and he turns to me to say his usual goodbye, "Goodnight Dylan."

I nod to him with my hand on my door handle, "Goodnight David." He smiles when I say his name and we close the doors behind us, we knew what we liked to do, and it wasn't bonding.

He has his sports and TV programming, I have my gaming and Internet connection.

We're more like neighbors the way we act around each-other and we're absolutely fine with that approach.

I sigh and plop down onto my small twin-sized bed and bounce a bit before slowing enough to grab my controller. I had paused my newest game-play of Mass Effect 3 to go to dinner expecting to come back to eat in my own small room/apartment while I fire off another mission for the Reaper war. Only I got trapped like usual and was forced to eat in the dining room when I saw David sitting there.

I would've just ran when I saw her setting the table but I couldn't leave David there alone. She caught him right at the door, still in his work clothes like usual. He taught me never to leave a brother behind in a warzone. This might not be what he meant when he said it, but it definitely seems to apply none-the-less.

I shake the memories away and look around my room with a calculating glance.

It really is more of an apartment, there's a bedroom and a bathroom all to my own liking that I kept maintained. Even my own small walk-in closet that I turned into a converted home office for my school work. Huh, I'm still surprised I managed to fit a desk AND my swivel chair in that small 1.5 square meter space. All in all it's more of a small dorm room now that I think about it. GOD I would've HATTED a roommate.

I let my hands set into their natural positions on my Xbox 360 wireless controller and smile as a comfortably familiar feeling of control sets in.

I love gaming, it gives me a sense of false accomplishment that keeps me from remembering... certain things.

I check the journal on the pause menu to see where I was.

Cerberus Station... oh I'm trying to kill Kai Leng on insanity. This should be just perfect. If I ever meet him in real life I'm going to murder that son of a bitch without a second thought. He causes too much death and destruction to be allowed to live. And if I want to kill him out-right then he's so far beyond the tipping point that I don't even care about his well being, which is really saying something since I really hate killing sentient beings, real or otherwise.

I shake my head clear and focus, this was going to take everything my Adept Shepard's got up his sarcastic cyberneticly enhanced sleeves. I un-pause the game and quickly dive into cover behind some hardware in the blown out floor and order Liara and Javik to do the same as three phantoms drop from the ceiling...

"There! Holy GOD! I finally finished Mass Effect 3 on INSANITY!" I nearly chuck my controller into the ceiling as I throw my arms up in excited elation. The Synthesis DLC ending starts to role and I lay back down onto my bed to think about how many enemies I had to flare to death during the missile part just before the final push to the beam.

I can still hear the screams of eight banshees cornering me and barely getting a hydra missile in to stall them before the sweet sweet sound of Joker's voice hit my radio and I could dash past four brutes and to the beam controls just as my health nearly hit it's last bar from all the banshees throwing a warp blast at me simultaneously. Man that was intense, and my Turtle Beach head-set made it so life-like that I nearly shit myself when I heard those Banshee's coming after me.

I shiver as I remember the sound of multiple screeches echoing across the map as I killed another brute with a biotic explosion. "That would be WAY beyond anything I could ever do." Looking at the TV, I watch just in time to see Liara place Shepard's name on the memorial wall on the crew deck of the Normandy.

I really hate that Shepard has to die through nearly every ending. I mean, you'd think he/she would find a way to defeat the Reapers without the Crucible, maybe an ancient super-weapon the Protheans made that blew up stars or something?

I scoff, "Yeah, like that's even possible. What's it going to look like, a huge cannon?"

I sigh and click the option after the credits to go to the main menu.

Today was a great day.

*beep*

I raise an eyebrow at the familiar sound of my IPhone getting a new message and pull it out. "What you doing?" I check the sender and smile as I see it was from Dell.

Dell was one of four people from my high-school that could actually stand to be around me for more then two minutes without flipping out and chucking textbooks.

God do History books hurt! Why do they have to be so heavy?!

Unlocking my IPhone I laugh a little at the Dragon Age Tali wielding sharp dueling swords and looking menacing like usual.

I always liked anything and everything about Mass Effect, even if it references other equally awesome games.

Opening the texting app I use to save minutes I send a response to Dell, "Not really anything, You?"

We call him Dell since his real name was Delesh and nearly impossible to pronounce perfectly so we just gave him a nickname, he hates it.

*beep*

I look at his instantaneous text. "Me and the guys were going to go out camping around the Great lakes."

His texting skills were legendarily fast. He could text an 8000 word book report in half an hour if he ever cared to.

I blink and look outside to see it's pitch black, "Right now?!"

*beep*

"Oh god no! We were going to pack up and leave tomorrow, you wanna come?"

I groan and stare at his text. I really didn't want to loose more gaming time, but he was usually REALLY persistent when planning activities.

I remember one time when he somehow convinced me to set off every cell phone in our high-school with one group text! The school bellowed in a melody of swearing teachers and hundreds of chirps, rings, and short songs for an hour as the text looped! It was hilarious! Well, until they tracked the text back to us and we were suspended. Ahh the good old days...

"Sure, what time we leaving? I text back reluctantly.

*beep*

I have really got to deactivate the alerts on this app, these beep's are getting frustrating.

"Woah! Who is this? I thought the legendary Scorpio would have put up more of a fight! HAHA! I'll pick you up at seven, your in charge of the lighter fluid and I know you have a freakishly awesome memory, but please don't forget OK?"

I scowl, He knows not to bring that up! "GOD when are you going to stop it with the Scorpio business!" I text angrily.

"When it stops being funny! ;)"

I cringe. It wasn't funny not one bit. I toss my phone onto my bed and lay back as the memories of that day start to come back slowly.

How long is that incident going to haunt me?!

I blink as my solipsism starts to blur my vision in favor of that terrible day... "Oh great..."

And just like that I was back in the old high-school library after dark on the night it happened.

I feel... strange. Like I'm still working tirelessly on that Geology poster that was due the next day, glue sticking to my fingers. *shivers* Oh man I hate doing this.

'Why I don't use more tape is beyond me.' Memory me thought as he wiped the dried glue off his hands and onto a napkin nearby.

"Dylan, the Library is closing." He looks up in surprise to see the elderly Mrs. Hershal, as barely alive as she ever was, standing there with a cracked smile on her thin lips and a few over-due library books in her hands.

Memory me nods and starts to put away the supplies. "How she's still alive is beyond me." I hear myself mutter as she turned and walked out of ear-shot towards her small desk near the exit.

He looks down at his wrist and frown, 'When am I going to start wearing a watch?' I hear myself think.

This is going to be vivid as hell like usual, I can already tell.

The vision blurs and I mentally shake my head to clear it up. I look around and see that I'm outside the high-school now, walking towards the parking lot. I can feel myself holding my Geology poster under my right arm and I can see myself tossing my car keys up into the air and catching them to a rhythm I can barely recall. Then I hear myself whistling a tune and focus on it for a moment before it clicks and I remember that I was whistling Radioactive by Imagine Dragons.

It's such a great song-

"Help!"

I stop and drop my poster into a puddle from the leftover rain that fell that evening and feel myself struggle to catch my car keys. "Damn it." I could feel my brow furrow as I pick up the ruined poster sadly.

I mentally freeze as I remember what this moment was.

Memory me looks around for who called for help.

Why couldn't I see her? It was a clear night! I could have stopped it! I never wanted any of this to ever happen!

I watch helpless from my position as my memory self shrugs and continues on. I feel myself pick up the tune again and keep walking, oblivious to the attempted rape of my two year younger than me 16 year old cousin mere meters away.

Oh Sarah, I am so sorry...

"Mmmffff!"

I stop, that one was absolutely as plain as day. Memory me sets his backpack that held my IPhone and dagger down by the curb to search for the source of the noise.

That won't help what's going to happen next. I've already thought through everything going to happen and I couldn't find anything else I could have done differently, it still just pisses me off that I couldn't prevent it!

Sneaking into the bushes I hear myself gasp and I pay attention to the horrific scene before me. My brunette-haired, crystal-blue eyed cousin Sarah was lying face down in the grass with her pants torn off and a fat fuck of a pig holding her down as he raped her from behind. I mentally tear myself away and focus on everything but the terrible anguish and terror I could feel bleed through from the memory.

Sarah starts to cry, I can hear her soft innocent voice just...

No, No I don't want to see this!

I try and skip ahead or end the memory, but it's useless, I can't escape reliving it.

Memory me shakes in shock and horror as the sick scene unfolded before him. I feel tears start to slip from my eyes in the memory and focus as I remembered how torn I was. I see that somehow the... Rapist had gagged Sarah and I could feel the pure anger and hatred build in my heart as she pushes her face into the ground and somehow shakes her gag free. She turns her head to me and I can see the hopelessness that was in her terrified eyes, she screams, "HELP!"

The tears stop and the light in her eyes darken as the Rapist punches her in the back of the head, knocking her into the ground and completely unconscious. I remember that I thought she'd died then and there. My little cousin...

This is the part where I finally decide between fight or flight and I feel something snap inside of me.

I feel myself stop crying as a purely primal rage bursts from my heart as Memory me clenches his teeth in pure anger. I watch myself scowl as deeply as I could and dig my fingernails into my palms so forcefully that I dug under the skin.

I had never been that angry before in my life, A growl escapes my throat and I watch myself focus on the sick freak raping the girl I thought of like a sister.

I watch myself stand and sprint at him in an adrenaline-induced run and cringe as I feel myself slamming my entire body into his side, throwing both of us back and into a roll down the hill just behind the high-school and into a nearby recreational pond build by my father when he attended the school decades prior.

I've gone over this so many times I can recite the exact temperature the water was when we fell in, fifty three degrees Fahrenheit.

The shockingly cold water hits me and I feel myself freeze while looking around through the murky water before my instincts kick in and I resurface. I hear myself gasp for air and follow my eye-sight to the Rapist a few feet away. I feel my eyes widen in shock as memory me sees a glint of metal in the man's left hand.

Somehow I got a good kick in and knock him away before he could stab me with the large hunting knife.

I let the memory play and feel myself swim to shore as my adrenaline spikes again and climb away from the danger and back up the hill from before.

I see myself look back and gasp in even more fright that the man was quickly following me. I pick up my pace with new determination and run up the hill as he follows me, I sprint to my backpack and struggle with my damn broken zipper I kept forgetting to fix. Looking up I see him not three seconds away and in a moment of panic I threw my poster at him to distract him the soaking wet paper cylinder hits him in the face, staggering him just long enough for me to break my zipper open and rip my personal dagger I kept in-case of muggings out of its holder.

If I could have called the police I would have, but he was just too quick.

I had been trained by my dad in knife combat between deployments so I automatically spun the eight inch curved dagger around so the backside of the blade was against my forearm and held it out to block a swipe from the Rapist. I hear the two daggers clang together and I see myself stagger back from the strength of the man's attack.

I use the momentum to jump back and plant my feet before diving back into the duel. I cut upwards while moving out of the way of one of his lunges. I could feel my dagger cut deeply into his shoulder, scraping against his collar bone. I roll forwards and turn to see him kneeling over, his right arm bleeding badly. I can remember that I felt sorry for him for a split second before dropping into a defensive position as he puts his blade into his left hand and jumps back into the fight.

I spun my dagger in my right hand and watch him for a second, that's when I saw a slight limp in his left leg, he was going to work on quick jabs to compensate.

I watch Memory me hold his dagger in his left hand and rush forwards, he ducks under the Rapist's swipe and slides with his dagger to cut a gash into the Rapist's left leg, forcing the man to yell out a curse I can't remember.

I quickly turn to see the man fall fully to his knees and pant at the exertion. I feel myself smile as he turns his head to glare at me, his dark hardened blue eyes stood out from the calm evening. He smiles and I watch him in confusion. Then out of nowhere he chucks a rock at me, I hit the ground and barely miss it hitting me.

Memory me swallows and jumps up to find the Rapist running away, I feel myself pause and try to decide what to do before my muscles tighten and a shear fear jumps into my heart. He was running towards Sarah! I couldn't get to him in time. I almost give up but then out of a moment of inspiration I put the dagger in my right hand, spin it around to hold onto the tip of the blade and quickly tossed it as accurately as I could at the sprinting Rapist. Time stopped as I watched the blade fly through the air, spinning, spinning, until...

"AHHHHHHHH!" The dagger embeds perfectly into the spine of the sick man. I feel myself smile with elation as he falls to the ground and stops moving.

That was always an awesome throw to watch.

I watch myself walk cautiously up to and crouch next to the guy to see exactly where my dagger hit. It hit just between his shoulders, and was deeply embedded in his spine. I remember myself silently chuckling at how lucky a toss it was, any lower and he would have still had mobility in his arms, any higher and it would have killed him outright. I watch myself grasp the bloody hilt of the dagger and yank it out violently, the man whimpers at the sound of the blade scraping bone just before I notice he finally passes out from the pain.

Memory me stands, bloodied dagger clenched in his right fist as the blood continued to seep from the Rapists severe wounds and he just stands there, watching for a second to process what he just did. When he does a wide smile grows across his bloodied face and I can feel the pure bliss in my mind at that moment. I just stand there, and continue to watch him bleed out without doing anything to help.

I will never forgive myself for that.

My vision blurs and I can feel myself coming out of the solipsism...

When my sight returns to normal I'm still laying in my bed, IPhone off to the side, Xbox 360 controller in my hands. "I haven't had that intense a flashback since the court-date." I shake my head and shiver as the last feelings of elation bleed from my consciousness. I lower my head in shame at what I did.

I never wanted any of that to happen.

I think back to what happened next and a shiver runs down my spine.

I just stood there for twenty minutes until Sarah woke up and found me smiling down at the rapist's bloody corpse. I watched him bleed out... I watched him die...

I shake my head and let the last lingering thoughts of the incident bleed from my mind.

Thank whatever absent god was there that night that Sarah lived. I would have lost it if she hadn't. She even got lucky and developed PTSAD (Post Traumatic Stress Amnesia Disorder). She couldn't remember a thing.

Unfortunately for me I developed a type of enhanced memory ability from it, so I could never forget it. I've always had a great memory, but it was nowhere near what I have now. I can remember anything and everything, but only if I want to remember it. I could repress memories if I concentrated enough. The doctors and Neurological Specialists I've gone to named it PTSSEMED (Post Traumatic Stress Selective Eidetic Memory Enhancement Disorder).

It's nice to put a name behind being essentially forced into solipsism whenever something reminds you of your cousin getting raped and you brutally killing the man who did it.

I sigh and just lay there as the next few weeks after the incident flood my mind.

They didn't arrest me since I was a minor at the time, barely, just by a few days. I remember how terrible I felt when I was sentenced to 600 hours community service and a $2000 fine my parents had to pay.

A scowl grows across my face, "600hrs for killing a man! How is that justice?!" I toss my controller across the room and cringe as it hit the wall and bounces back to hit the carpet and nearly come to rest at my old Xbox. I scramble over and quickly inspect it for damage. I sigh as I find it miraculously undamaged and start to get ready for bed.

They nicknamed me Scorpio, they thought it was going to be a way for me to rationalize the incident better. I sigh and shake my head in slight disgust, they got the idea from the bloodied the shirt I had worn that night. The shirt used as evidence that I never got back, it was a completely black T-shirt with a silver scorpion on the front and back. I used to love that shirt.

I throw my shirt and jeans into the hamper near the bathroom door and walk into the bathroom to brush my teeth. I pick up the green and blue electric tooth-brush and put the right amount of toothpaste onto it.

I never wanted that to happen and everyone praises me for saving Sarah and killing the terrible man.

I look at myself in the mirror and see the aged appearance my tired brown eyes gave me.

I'm nineteen and I look like I'm in my early thirties because of that one day.

I sigh and activate my electric tooth-brush and start brushing.

I couldn't sleep for a year after I found out the man had a family, he had a wife, and two daughters! What right did I have to take his life away?!

I finish up and rinse the last of the toothpaste out of my mouth before shaking my head and walking back into my bedroom. I grab my blanket and jump into bed, letting my head rest comfortably against the soft pillow.

"I need to get to sleep and if I keep thinking about it I'm never going to sleep again." I whisper before finally turning off the one lamp I kept on next to my bed and closing my eyes to try and get at least four hours before the nightmares returned. "Maybe I'll dream of Mass Effect, and killing Kai Leng..."

Blood smeared across the cement, the pavement wet from a light rain as the red liquid runs down the hard ground separating it from the sidewalk and seeps into a nearby drainage culvert, drip... drip... drip... drip. The night is cold, so cold that the fallen tears of an innocence lost is hardly known against the light dew frozen to the tips of freshly grown grass, and among it all is a girl, a young girl covered in the life-blood of her victim, the first victim...

*HOOONK!* My tired eyes crack open at the sharp noise.

Whatever it is it just saved me from reliving another nightmare.

I groan as I leave the nice warm comfort of my bed to investigate the noise. I look out my window and see a van, no an SUV, and it's over-filled with... camping supplies?

"Oh right, the camping trip." I yawn and rub the sleep from my eyes before shaking myself awake and starting my morning routine.

Ten minutes later I'm finished showering, shaving, and performing my basic oral hygiene. I look at myself in the mirror and worry that even one of these dreams are going to come true, but shake the thought away as I get dressed in the usual. Jeans and a dark gray shirt. Next I grab my charging IPhone and back-up 5th gen Ipod touch before throwing on my black and gray coat while slipping on my black and gray Nike sneakers.

The doctors say that a routine and familiarity helps people like me forget their past, I just do it because I like doing things a certain way.

Walking to my bedroom door I stop at my key rack and grab my dagger from its place next to the ring for the Chevy. I look at it for a moment. The slight curve in the eight inch long millimeter-thick compressed plate titanium-alloy blade, the black custom-made grip installed over the thin hilt that balanced the dagger perfectly while fitting my exact hand print perfectly as I gripped it, the strangely comforting Prothean symbols I carved into the blade itself to make it look more aesthetically pleasing to the eye.

The dagger will never rust, never break, and holds an infinite amount of personal memories. So many that every time I hold it I have to consciously repress them to concentrate on the here and now.

The doctors said that having something to remind me of that night will only worsen my condition, I disagreed and we debated constantly on my mental stability until I just stopped going to check-ups and refilling the terrible narcotics they kept prescribing for me.

If I have to learn to live with the past, then repressing it with drugs isn't going to help, I need to confront it and fight to control it. Otherwise I'm just weak and truly insane.

Turning the dagger around in my hand I sigh tiredly as my eyes land on the scorpion that was inscribed into the butt of the hilt.

The only thing that I love more than how perfect this dagger is, is my family. Sadly nothing I can do will change any of thi-

*HONK* *HONK* *HONK!*

I whip my head towards the window and realize I was lost in my thoughts for about three minutes. "God damn it." I strap the holster for it onto my belt and sheath it in its place before rushing through the house on 'ghost feet'.

That's what my parents named my freakish ability to walk without making any noise around the house, it really scares them that I could come and go without them even knowing it. Especially since I don't really leave my room unless I'm hungry or, well, need to go to school and... that's just about it.

I take a quick side-trip through the camping supplies cabinet in the porch to get two cans of lighter fluid before practically jumping through the front door and nearly running over Terry as she reaches for the doorbell. I wrap my arms around her and spin us around so I land on my back instead of her getting her glasses broken, scratched, or anything like that. She stares at me in shock as we lay there on the driveway. Finally she brushes some of her short auburn hair behind her ear and says, "I-I was wondering when you were getting up." She smiles shyly and stands to hold out a hand to help me up.

"Thanks. I overslept, for once in my life." She nods and I smile as she pulls me up from the ground.

I look her over for any scuffs. I quickly check her black jeans and tan sneakers before looking over her fuzzy gray sweater and seeing the stitching in the right shoulder was loose, besides that everything seemed to be in order. She's been spending a bit too much time indoors again too since she's almost as white as the snow, her soft complexion only changed by a light patch of freckles around her nose.

If Female Shepard wore glasses and home-made sweaters then Terry would be her exact twin.

"Ahem." We turn to see Dell standing there, arms crossed over his burgundy leather jacket he's had all throughout high-school, faded jeans still ripped in his left knee from an incident with his weed-waker two years ago, his short black hair shimmering from his obsession with oiling it to make him look like the lead character from Grease. He was of Italian decent so he could pull the look off, we still gave him shit for it though. "If you two are about done we need to get moving." We walk down the drive, Terry leans back against the grill of the 2011 Jeep Cherokee Dell inherited from his uncle that passed away a few years back. "I was starting to think Scorpio decided to blow us off." Dell comments sarcastically.

I glare at him, he was usually the reason I flashed back to that night and he knew that.

Terry knew too so she scowls and punches Dell in the arm for the trouble he gives me, "Shut it Dell! You know what that does to him! We agreed to stop calling him that!"

Dell pouts as he rubs his arm, "Ow! Touchy! It was just a joke!"

Terry looks like she was going to slap Dell, but instead points a finger in his face, "It wasn't funny so apologize!"

In all honesty the name barely even triggered the memory anymore, not since I connected it to the trial and not the night I earned that nickname.

Dell sighs and looks at me apologetically, "I'm sorry man, just trying to make up for all the crap you guys give me for my own name. Anyways, I didn't expect you to actually come after the South Dakota Detour."

He's really going to get it if Mark is-

"DETOUR?! Is THAT what you call getting us lost on the way to Montana and ending up in Mexico?!" Mark's head pops out from behind the SUV to stare at Dell incredulously.

His light brown hair still looks like Alistair's from Dragon Age I see, just like the day I met him. Huh, he grew out his goatee again. I thought Terry hated it.

I fake a cough to hide my laughter as Dell gawks at Mark and throws his arms up in exasperation, "That was an error in the GPS I told you!"

Mark scoffs and stops what he's doing to walk around to face Dell fully. He bows sagely as he mocks Dell, "Yes oh powerful GPS programmer..."

Dell frowns and points a finger at Mark, "Fuck off man I forgot the map so I did the best that I could!"

I hear Terry scoff and look at her as she folds her arms over her chest and raises an eyebrow at the two, "Yes, and the best you could manage was a bunch of side roads and a few 'maybe the freeway was that way's and BOOM we spend the next two weeks in fucking Guadalupe!"

I burst out laughing, "HAHAHAHAHA! GOOD, HAHA, GOD, HAHAHA THAT WAS A FUN SPRING BREAK! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" I double over and try to contain my laughter as images of those two weeks hit me, Dell swearing colorfully as he sees the Mexican signs pass by, Terry and Mark waking up next to a beach in shock, me getting a nasty sunburn from not wearing enough sunscreen for ONE day in week two. Good times...

Terry scowls at me, "Oh laugh it up Dylan, you were the only one who didn't take Spanish in high-school remember? We had to keep you within ten feet of us the entire damn time to avoid insulting the locals!" Dell raises an eyebrow and nods in agreement as well.

That cuts me out of my laughter. "Hey, I took French! I only knew Hola and Como Estas? and I even screwed those up!"

Mark walks around from the back carrying two sleeping bags and smiles, "Yeah, what was that excuse you made when we were signing up for classes? Oh right! 'French is the way to get ALL the ladies'."

I blush as they all burst out laughing. "Screw you guys..."

Terry wipes tears from her eyes, Mark desperately tries to not drop the sleeping bags as he doubles over, and Dell is rolling around on the driveway.

They can laugh all they want! Lets see THEM get stranded in a French-speaking African country and see how well they adapt!

I throw my arms up as far as possible without tossing the two cans of lighter fluid, "Whatever! Hey can we get a move on? I want to get there before the lake freezes over."

Dell finishes laughing hysterically and pats me on the back, "Whatever you say man. You got the lighter fluid?" He said. I wave the two cans in his face and he takes them with a half-smirk.

Terry nods to Mark and they all get into Dell's Cherokee with smiles on their faces. Mark behind the wheel, Dell right next to him in the passenger seat, Terry behind Mark like she always is.

Ok, it's going to be a while until I see my house again. Better get one last look...

I turn to look at my window for a moment, letting the memories of my childhood wash over me for a while until I hear something, it sounds familiar... and a bit annoying.

Oh damn it I know what it is.

I look at the front door and see my mother, in her morning clothes, glaring at me from the doorway. "Dylan!" she yells again.

I can't even remember how many times I've heard her yell my name across the yard. Oh wait, give me a second... five thousand, seven hundred and eleven.

"DYLAN!"

Five thousand seven hundred and twelve.

I cringe and focus back on her to apologize and clarify why she was woken up before ten am, "Sorry, I'm going with the guys on a camping trip."

Her eyebrows shoot way up and she looks at me incredulously, "In October?!"

I nod curtly and answer with a short, "Yep."

She shakes her head again and sighs before waving her hand for me to go.

"Thanks!" I call back as I quickly jog to the back passenger side and jump in. I buckle up as Mark looks behind him only to scowl at the huge amount of hunting crap blocking his view of the road. He looks at Terry and she just smiles and shrugs from the back seat of the SUV as it starts blindly backing out of the driveway.

I see her smile even more when the Jeep hops the curb and nearly falls into the ditch. "Son of a bitch!" Mark yells as he puts it into drive and tries it again, this time with the driver-side door open so he could see where he was going. The Jeep finally starts on the main road and I sit back to just listen to the senseless banter as we started the two day trip up to lake Superior.

(Two days later)

I yawn as my eyes open to be assaulted by sunlight.

I slipped into a restless sleep during the last day up here, it seemed like a good idea since dell was getting rowdy and Mark was starting to slack off on the driving again. Seriously if he asks me to do it, I'd do it, but Dell doesn't like the idea of a psychopath driving his baby.

"Dylan, wake up! We're here." I rub my drowsy eyes and look to my left to see Terry smiling at my dazed appearance.

"Yeah, rise and shine sleeping beauty!" Dell pounds on my car-door, waking me up enough to not get mad at his impromptu criticisms.

I open the door and place a hand over my heart, looking at Dell as if I'm touched by his words, "You think I'm beautiful?" He stops unloading the tent and looks at me as if I was an Elcor asking that question.

...

He blinks for a second, seemingly thinking it over, "Uhh..." He shrugs, "Sure why not?" I can see Terry and Mark just barely containing their laughter out of the corner of my eye.

I pat him on the shoulder with a small smile on my face and say, "Thanks man, I could always count on you to be that one person that brightens up my day." He blinks and stares at me as I start unpacking the rations. I look back and Terry and Mark's eyes are as wide as saucers as well.

I'm not surprised they're shocked, usually I make a joke or call him a softy, this time I'm actually happy he took the time to consider how I look.

I pause and think about what I just thought.

...

"Ok, I am really getting dehydrated or something, that was the weirdest logic I've used in a LONG time." I mutter under my breath while carrying the cases of prepackaged rations to the campsite.

I set them down on a patch of dry dirt and nearly bump into Mark as he runs over and immediately throws down his lawn chair he forced us to drag out of his aunts house in Minneapolis on the way up. I raise an eyebrow and shake my head as he falls onto it in fake exhaustion.

I don't have time to deal with his laziness.

Walking back to the Jeep I grab a can of lighter fluid and flint and shove them into Dell's arms as he walks by, "You're going to start the fire." He pouts and opens his mouth to object but a quick glare from me makes him dash over to the fire pit in fear.

"You still got it Dylan, I have no-doubt that if you glared at a terrorist you'd get him to shit himself right before turning himself in." Terry said with absolute astonishment and amusement from behind me.

I shrug off my surprise and smile at her, "Hey, it's my one power I can use at any time so I might as well master it."

Terry smiles and pushes her glasses back up her nose as she grabs the last of the tent supplies and walks off towards the far side of the camp.

I let my mind wander for a moment, remembering all the trouble the ride up here was.

Two days of sleeping in the Cherokee and in road-side motels, one of which reminded me of a horror story I read once so I obviously opted to sleep in the Jeep. Dell walked in on Mark and Terry, well, fornicating... and then proceeded to puke for half an hour from the shock and pass out from dehydration.

I look over at him as he throws some brush into the fire pit and freaks out that some old ash was thrown in his face before coughing up a storm.

I'm surprised he's still walking after that. He hadn't even known they were a couple until he walked in on them. The only reason he threw up was because he thought of Terry as a sister since he himself was also an only child and they've been friends since second grade. I can understand that, I felt really overprotective of Sarah when she started dating a few years ago.

I smile as I remember a fight she and I had over why I was interfering with her love life so much. I told her that I thought of her as my little sister and wanted to protect her like an older sibling would.

She just smiled and told me nicely that she knew who to call if she had a problem, and if I ever dragged her away from a make-out session ever again she was going to cut my balls off. I laughed and hug her tightly, she really was the cutest thing I ever knew.

I sigh as the lingering happiness of the memory bleeds away and I refocus on my task of finishing unloading the Jeep.

I look over at Mark as he sunbathes and then lock eyes with Dell and nod towards Mark for Dell to deal with it. Dell sighs reluctantly and calls over to Mark, "Hey Mark what are you doing?" I pause in my activity and watch as Mark looks over to Dell, he grins deviously, "Why coordinating building efforts Dell, what does it look like I'm doing?" Dell shakes his head, but I can see he's smiling.

I smile, now that his laziness has been confirmed out loud it should be only a second or two before Terry calls him on-

"Mark?"

Bingo...

Terry calls form the half-pitched tent a few meters away. Mark pretends to not here her. I smirk.

Wrong move dude.

Terry pops her head out from the half-pitched tent to yell, "Mark get off your lazy ass and help me pitch the tent or your sleeping outside!"

"Get off my back Terry it was hard driving us all the way up here!" Mark exclaims as he continues to lay back in his comfortable lawn chair.

Terry glares at him and yells, "Oh you had it SO hard! You set the cruise and pushed the responsibility of steering onto Dell for half the ride while you napped! I'm shocked we didn't crash!"

He looks at me as I unloaded the last of our equipment and stop to catch my breath by sitting on the ground for a moment, "Hey! Why does Scorpio get to rest?!" I glare at him but he can't see it. I shake my head, he wasn't going to drag me into this.

Terry swears as the tent collapses with her inside, "I don't care if he was humping a tree and calling the song birds his parents get the hell over here!" Mark reluctantly sighs and quickly trots over to dive into the mess of a tent Terry had tried, and failed to pitch before his girlfriend killed him with an ice pick.

Or made me glare at him again, whichever comes first.

I look up at the clear blue sky and decide to meditate to calm myself. Crossing my legs I sit on the ground and sigh as I find my center.

...

Dell stands from his position at the fire pit and walks over as I just start to find my center, "You still need to do that huh?" I look up at him for a moment before closing my eyes and ignoring the world around me for a split second to think. "Hello?"

I crack open one eye to see his face not an inch away.

JESUS!

"Please give me some space." I state calmly. He smiles and stands up before shaking his head at me and walking back over to the fire pit while whistling a tune I don't really recognize.

I need a moment of peace.

I breathe in the cool October air and let the lingering memories of the long two-day ride slip away. I remember the date and internally shrug.

Huh, it was my birthday yesterday...

I never celebrated my birthday with a lot of flare. A new video-game maybe, but no flare. Hell I bought Mass Effect 2 the day OF my birthday in 2011 thinking it was this terrible foreign fps that I'd end up selling back a week later. Well, that week passed and I didn't sell it, I kept it. I played through it twenty times before Christmas then bought Mass Effect 1 and played that through January. I decided to play through both and did that over and over again until I found out that Mass Effect 3 was going to come out that March.

I still remember how ecstatic I was the day I brought it home and played the Mars mission the first time.

I smile at the fond memories of anger and rage that my good friend Ashley getting injured ignited during the end of it. I remember swearing out loud that the lying sack of shit Illusive Man was going to be horribly murdered before I put down that controller.

Good thing it was a short week at school, otherwise I would have lost it.

And after five consecutive days of continuous fighting I finished Mass Effect 3 with flying colors...

Then I started getting really angry at the ending, I think it took me eight hours to finally say screw it and except the ending for what it was, an ending.

I shiver as another cool October breeze rushes over me from the surrounding forest.

It was two years yesterday that I was introduced to Mass Effect, and now I will forever celebrate that date for what it is, the birth of my modern self.

I open my eyes after a while to see Dell still trying to start the fire and sigh.

I guess I should go help him out.

"Dell what are you doing?" I stand up and walk over.

He lifts his head and raises and eyebrow up at me, "I WAS trying to start the fire mister 'know it all'."

I cross my arms and ignore his frustration as I assess his situation, "Looks like you aren't having much success." He sighs and nods. We look down at the slightly burnt green twigs he was trying to light and I face-palm. "OK, I'M going to go search for firewood and YOU are going to go get Terry and Mark to put their clothes back on and quit hogging the tent." His eyes widen and he nods after looking at said tent and noticing a lot of rustling and tussling going on.

What would these people do without me?

I walk to the edge of camp and check that I have my dagger with me. I cringe as the memories start to wash over me and I'm reminded of THAT night again. I shake my head clear of the dark thoughts and holster the blade before walking into the forest to forge for firewood.

Half an hour later I've collected a good amount of dry-ish firewood and start making my way back. I knew the way, I had it memorized, so I let my mind wander back to Mass Effect and all it's splendor. For some reason I could only concentrate on the Protheans, their beacons, their technology, the strangely eerie glow they made when activated.

I absolutely love Protheans, I'm a fanatic for lack of a better word. I even learned a few of their words and written language one afternoon just to occupy myself.

I look up at the sky and notice it was getting surprisingly dark.

Huh, I guess I was out for longer then I expected?

I shrug and focus on the meaning of what I saw, "Morit-Kah" I recite in Prothean from memory, it was one of the few words I actually knew, It meant Dark-Sky.

Their language rolls off the tongue so beautifully. I wish I knew more though, or at least I wish Bioware had created more of a language so I could learn more.

I look around at all the elder trees and smile as I find myself in a strangely silent part of the forest.

It just seems so peaceful in the late fall, not really any animals are out anymore, either they move on or hibernate for the harsh winter coming.

I take a deep breath of the cool air and I stop for a moment to just listen to the silence. A twig snaps behind me and before I know it I'm turned around, dagger in my right hand and the firewood at my feet, staring into an encroaching darkness that seemed to just cover everything. I shiver as a sharp, freezing wind cuts across my face, forcing me to wince in slight pain. I open my mouth to ask 'who's there?', but I hear myself say, "Hess Teís?" I slap my hand over my mouth in shock.

I just broke the fourth barrier between Prothean and English without even thinking about it. I don't even KNOW those words!

A strange feeling washes over me as another freezing breeze stings my cheek. I close my eyes and hiss at the sharp contact.

Why is it so cold? It's not supposed to get this cold!

I feel my feet carry me forwards and I open my eyes as the breeze subsides to find myself standing at the edge of a clearing. It's completely silent around me, and nearly pitch-black. I look around with my peripheral vision and I catch the sight of a small stone altar in the center of the small clearing. "What the hell?" I mutter to myself quietly as I approach it cautiously. I darted my eyes around, it felt like something or someone was watching me.

I don't like this...

A light catches my eye and I turn quickly to stare at the stone altar in shocked awe. Strange carvings of some familiar language form on it's surface. I walk up to it and feel the first indentation with my fingertips, they were strangely comforting for some reason. I traced the symbol, "Der." I pause and look around for who said it when I realize I'd said it.

Ok, this is weird.

I traced the symbol again, it's swooping lines creating a tingling in my finger and I stare at it in a strange amount of curiosity and awe. It lights up even brighter as my trace of it ends. "Der." I hear myself say the word again.

It seems like...

My mind freezes.

It's Prothean...

I swallow nervously and quickly trace the entire five symbol sentence carved into the stone. I knew it was a sentence since there was a curved half moon after the last symbol, a little crescent moon that the Protheans used like a period.

I let myself get caught up in the meanings of the symbols and I hear myself recite them perfectly, "Der Greé Hiss Loirét Réah." After I finish reading it I think about the words, but I can't understand them.

What do they mean? What does this mean?

A voice whispers something I can barely hear and I look up quickly to see a hooded figure, cloaked in black, approaching.

Oh my god...

The hairs stand up on the back of my neck and I feel the air get really cold all of a sudden.

My attention is brought back to the symbols as they glow even brighter. I feel compelled to run my hands over the indentations again and I feel some force come over me as I FEEL the meaning behind them. I open my mouth and speak, "Death greets who calls the living." As soon as I whisper those words a strong gust of wind pushes against me from behind and I have to brace myself on the altar to avoid falling down. I look up again and freeze in shock to see the cloaked figure was just across from me on the other side of the altar, the person's face hidden behind the thin cloak. "Who are you?" I asked breathlessly in absolute fear.

Fear, I haven't felt fear in-

"AHHH!" I yell out in intense pain as something stabs at me from behind, it felt sharp, precise, like a thousand knives cutting into me, the pain forces me to buckle and fall fully onto the altar. I clench my teeth and try desperately to block out the pain as it intensifies to the point that I feel myself passing out. Then all of a sudden it stops and I could breath again. I pant in absolute shock at what I just felt. The unbearable pain was beyond anything I'd ever felt before.

I felt like I was dying... what the hell is happening?!

I try to steady myself and gasp with wide eyes as I feel myself being lifted over the altar by an unknown force. I panic and try to grab onto anything around me but I find my body unresponsive.

I can't... move.

My mind wanders and I remember something about a Prothean device that lifted people off the ground and weakly smile at the memory of Mass Effect 1's opening mission.

Well this is ironic...

I internally laugh and ready myself for a massive influx of Prothean data or some warning, but it doesn't come.

Nothing better to do than laugh at yourself when your at the mercy of some random other-worldly force. Is this what I get? Do I die in a forest over an altar? I'm probably loosing it, no this the part where I find out it's all just an illusion. I'll close my eyes and wake up at home, or back at camp.

I wince and groan in immense pain as the sharp stabbing feeling in my back returns.

Oh, I'm going to pass out...

I open my eyes as the sharp pain intensifies again and I scream out in my suffering. I feel a tear fall down my cheek and then I feel a heavy POP in my chest. Everything stops, I can't feel anything at all. I look down on myself and I see my dagger, glowing green with some unknown energy, sticking out of my chest where my heart should be.

I... what's...?

My vision blurs and I feel cold, so cold.

Like being frozen in a glacier.

I try and focus beyond the glowing hilt of my dagger and see the cloaked figure approach and reach its hand out towards me slowly. "What...?" I gasp in my last effort to make sense of the situation. A bright light flares around me and my mind goes blank. My vision turns to deep black and my last thought was how warm it was, it was nearly scalding, purely tropical.

It reminds me of Mexico...