End of the Road
Only muffled blasts let John Shepard know there was still a fight for survival raging outside. He couldn't have cared less. Before him was the End. Three paths. A final choice. An impossible choice. No. Every tendon in his body was exhausted. His side was burning from several stray bullets, and his cheek had a pulsing gash where a Husk got too close for comfort. None of it mattered. No, please no. He sank to his knees, hands falling to his side. Shepard closed his eyes. An impossible choice. Damn that child.
Straight ahead, the child said, was Synthesis. Becoming the template for all life in the galaxy or some shit. He was glad to rule that out as an option. But that left two. Control the Reapers, or destroy them. Follow the Illusive Man's plan like a stooge, or destroy most tech in the galaxy, including EDI and the Geth. Become the next Harbinger, or set the galaxy back a hundred years. He noticed he was grinding his teeth. This wasn't fair. Shepard had gone through hell and back over and over for humanity, for the entire galaxy. But this was too much. Nobody could make this choice. He stood up, looked behind him. A loud voice in his head wanted him to walk away. Screw the Reapers. But he remembered Anderson, and Earth. Shepard sighed, and turned back. But what to do? He sat back on the cool tile, and tried to decide.
Control or destroy. Quick, the fate of the galaxy depends on it. He looked to the left, where some machinery glowed . Shepard could make the ultimate sacrifice, and use the Reapers for good. But what would stop him from re-starting the cycle? What'd stop him form fulfilling the Illusive Man's final wish, and subjugate the rest of the galaxy, elevating humanity to godhood? And what it had cost to give him this choice...He remembered Sanctuary, the experiments, the dead. How could good come from such horror? And by all rights, he'd be dead. For years he'd been ready to die for good, he'd been ready when he passed the Omega-4 relay, but yet, he'd also met Miranda. He loved her. She gave him a reason to live.
Shepard didn't want to die.
The realization knocked the wind out of him. Shepard, the Hero of the Citadel, Liberator of the Krogan, and Saviour of the Galaxy didn't want to die. He could hear the word coward whispered about him. He wasn't a coward, he knew that much. His knuckles whitened. And then he slowly turned to the right. Shepard wanted to hear Miranda say I love you. He wanted to hold her, to grow old together. This moment of doubt, of selfishness, it was against everything he was trained for. But in the end, the great Hero of Humanity just wanted to go home. To live a life of peace. He thought of those who couldn't, and he wept.
He wept for his love for the imperfect Miss Lawson.
He wept for Thane, who was finally at peace.
He wept for Mordin, and his ultimate redemption
He wept for Legion, a synthetic who was a better man than he'd ever be.
He wept for Kaiden and Wrex, who both had the courage to do what he wouldn't.
He wept for Liara, who could only stand by as her world burned
He wept for the Geth, who'd wanted nothing but their own survival.
Only now to be snatched away by their very saviour.
He wept for EDI, her budding humanity, and Joker's soon to be lost love.
He wept for his family of warriors, torn apart by the Reapers.
He wept for Earth, for Palaven, for Rannoch, for Tuchanka, for Thessia, for Sur'Kesh
He wept for the millions upon milions of innocents.
Killed by the Reapers
Their blood cried out from the very walls, from the floor below,
For vengeance.
For justice.
Shepard rose, full of anger, and sorrow. He stepped forward. With every step he took, he saw the faces of the dead, smiling. It's almost over. He remembered an old tune, it comforted him.
Through many dangers, toils and snares
I have already come,
'Tis Grace that brought me safe thus far
and Grace will lead me home.
And then he remembered Perry the Pyjak. Shepard laughed, then winced. He remembered target shooting with Garrus. Letting him win. He remembered he and Ashley knocking back shots. Mordin singing. Grunt's triumph over the Thresher Maw. Miranda's sweat cooling on the sheets. Conversations on morality with Thane. Tali's reconciliation with Legion. Dinners with his brothers and sisters in arms. Times of laughter. Of family. He wasn't ready to leave that. Not yet. Shepard had a lot more living left to do.
And there he stood. He didn't have a damned clue what the hell it was, but it glowed with a harsh red light. The heart of all the darkness in his life. Shepard's hand reached to his waist, and found the old, well worn handle. It felt natural, an extension of his hand. He pulled it out, and let it drop to his machinery hummed passively. It waited patiently. It had more time than Shepard did. He could swear it was enjoying his moment of doubt.
Last chance. His hand trembled. He remembered the first time he left Earth's orbit, pressed against the window, infinity before him. Everywhere he looked was a tiny little light, where billions of people lived, breathed, laughed and loved. That infinity, that life was at risk. He knew then that no one would fault him for wanting to still be a part of it. Shepard silently thanked whatever god was out there for letting him make this choice. He fired into the mechanical mass. It wasn't a good choice. He fired again. Maybe not even the right one. He fired again. But it was the human one. The structure began to flame, to die. Shepard fired again and again until he finally noticed the silence outside the Crucible. All was still, all was calm. Shepard smiled. Come what may, it was over. Finally over. He dropped the gun, and walked away.