A/N: I am sorry about the tone of this, but I just lost a friend to breast cancer this morning and this was my way of dealing with it.

Jeff stared, dumbfounded, at the screen in front of him, his hazel eyes wide and glazed. He felt frozen to the spot, unable to move. This can't be happening repeated over and over in his head, a mantra to keep him from losing all control. This can't be happening. It has to be a cruel, sick joke.

Shepard saw the sudden change in her friend and roommate. They had known one another for most of their lives, and had lived together for the past year - once Commander Anderson and her mother agreed to share custody of him to allow him to stay on the station. This was uncharacteristic of the ornery friend she loved like a brother.

His mother went back to some small colony to be with his father, the years spent apart forcing them to take drastic measures to save their marriage - not that there was much of a relationship there to begin with based on what Shepard had seen and heard over the years. Regardless, they were together now complete with a new baby girl. Jeff called her a do-over, the pain bold across his features as he talked about his new sister. Even then he didn't look so... shocked, hurt, scared, miserable... Right now he looked like he had just been attacked.

"Is everything alright, Jeff?" Shepard approached her friend slowly, one hand finding his shoulder and squeezing it gently in a gesture of comfort.

Jeff didn't respond. His eyes didn't move from the screen, but Shepard could see tears pooling along his lower lids. The pools swelled greatly, but he somehow managed to prevent them from spilling down his cheeks.

"Jeff?" Shepard whispered his name, desperate to pull him back to the moment.

His hazel eyes blinked several times as he pulled out of his trance; the tears broke free of their mooring and left streams down his pale cheeks. He slowly turned to face the girl standing behind him, as if everything was in slow motion. Finally his haunted eyes found her, and he could only manage a choked hiccup; his voice was no longer under his control. He shook his head slowly, jaw slack and trembling, and gestured to the console. Shepard took that as an invitation.

Jeff,

There is no delicate way to say this, so I will just get it out, like pulling off a bandage in one fast tug. Your mother died last night. She noticed a lump in her breast shortly after your sister's birth, but the doctors assured her it was just a clogged milk duct. The diagnostic equipment on the colony didn't find anything troublesome, so we continued on like normal. It wasn't until she was unable to bear the pain in her back that they sent for more testing. They discovered she had cancer, which was a shock to everyone as this disease hasn't been seen in almost a century.

They did everything they could to save her, but we found it too late. Her body was too ravaged to endure the treatments. She begged me not to tell you until she was gone. She didn't want you to see her as she was at the end, but to instead remember her as the vibrant women she was for you. You were always her main concern.

It pains me to be the bearer of such bad news, especially since we have not spoken properly in several years. I am also sorry to have to do this over the extranet, but I don't have any of that fancy technology at my fingertips like you do.

I hope this will give us an opportunity to strengthen our relationship. I still love you.

Mr. Paul Moreau

Shepard blinked several times but was unable to keep her own tears at bay. Sobs filled her ears as Jeff began slowly rocking back and forth in the chair next to her, which only upset her more. Numbness stole over her body as a cold tingle along her arms paired with the burning in her new implant told her she was flaring unintentionally. Her heart ached as she suddenly realized how fleeting life could be. The loving, beautiful young woman who willingly sacrificed so much with a smile to give her son a chance was suddenly gone at the hands of a long-gone disease. Now a baby girl would only know her mother through fleeting images saved on technology and stories shared by others. Now a young man, her friend, was left all alone.

No. He would never be alone. She would make sure of it. As would her mother and Commander Anderson. While they shared no blood, they were family, and they would get him through this.