Her face had remained cool and expressionless as he let his thoughts be known. She remained collected, even though his words had stung her. They had only seared deeper with each passing second since they had left that god-forsaken planet.

She had been dead for more than two years and was working alongside the people who had brought her back to life. Somehow, this was not an adequate explanation for one Kaidan Alenko.

The pent-up emotion within her was so palpable that it stifled all conversation in the shuttle ride back to the Normandy. The normally-garrulous Garrus and Jacob sat uncomfortably still, put in the awkward position of being in the company of their fearless leader- the Hero of the Citadel- as she struggled to stay in control of her own emotions. Zaeed crossed his arms and relaxed, as if the horrors they had witnessed on the mission could not possibly top one of his memories, seemingly oblivious of the reunion that took place and its aftermath. Jack checked and cleaned her shotgun; she could not have cared less about what had transpired. Miranda steered the shuttle, her face fixed on the instruments, focused on precision and accuracy with her piloting. Kasumi sat cross-legged on the deck, debating internally whether she should say something to break the silence, or to cloak and hope that no one noticed. Mordin fidgeted, having already processed the emotional trauma of the mission, mind already ablaze with new experiments to run on the samples they had collected.

Shepard was only remotely aware that she was not conducting her usual morale-boosting debriefs. Instead, she rested her elbows on her knees, one hand nested in the other under her chin, her eyes staring at a point far past the bolt in the floor at which her gaze was fixed. A small bump of turbulence, and she let her head down, resting her forehead against the knuckles on her thumbs.

That same lack of expression prevailed as the shuttle docked on board the Normandy. She was the first to disembark, moving at a brisk pace to ensure she was alone in the elevator. As she took the lift to the top deck, her personal cabin, the wall finally cracked. A tear formed in her eye, hot and mocking as it leaked down her cheek. She shook her head, brushing a still-gloved hand across her face as the other balled into a fist and slammed into the wall of the elevator. When she finally reached her cabin, her teeth were gritting, her lips trembling, her shoulders heaving in barely-controlled sobs. She tore at the straps of her armor, slinging the pieces in random directions. Her ears barely registered the crashing and banging noises as her arms became freed of their braces, her helmet, breastplate, greaves and boots soon to be strewn about the floor. Standing amidst the pile, a scream filled with her torment and frustration sprang from her lungs, her fists clenched and arms raised well over her head. Tears streamed down both of her cheeks as she paced back and forth, first slamming her fist into the metal of the console that managed her clothing locker, then drawing open and slamming shut the drawers in the bedside table, trying to drown her emotions in sound.

What's the point?, she thought to herself. The Alliance left me for dead, the Council put the brakes on everything we'd accomplished… and now he turns his back on me, too. Cerberus might as well have not found me, and turned me into this… abomination. Whatever I am.

Still dressed in the under-armor casual shirt and pants, she allowed her body to fall onto the bed, her arms sprawled to the sides, her breaths coming in tearing, choking sobs, flashes of memory springing unbidden to her mind.

18 August, 2183 CE

Bay D-24, Citadel Docks

SSV Normandy

She returned to the Normandy after the meeting with the Citadel Council. Now grounded, she knelt as she rummaged through her storage locker on the crew deck, trying to distract herself from the rage and betrayal roiling just beneath the surface.

That was when he came to her. He had stood beside her as the human ambassador plainly dismissed their claims of Saren's continued search for the Conduit, and- without a hint of remorse- restrained the ship, stripped her of responsibility, and prevented Shepard and her crew from pursuing their sworn objective. Having served beside her for so long, he could tell that she was brimming with anger, and felt honor-bound to give her solace when she needed it. His eyebrows rose slightly and his eyes shone with compassion.

"Commander… hell of a thing, what they just did."

She nodded in agreement as she turned on her knees and sat, leaning her back against the locker and blowing a calming breath through her lips. "Yeah… you could say that. I should have known Udina would sell us out, like that. And while we're stuck here, Saren's getting closer to the Conduit with every passing second." She shook her head. "He's going to find it. I can feel it."

Incredulity crept into his voice, one eyebrow arched: "So, what- that's it? We give up? The Reapers win?"

She shook her head, her jaw setting in grim determination as her fiery green eyes locked with his. "Not by a long shot. Believe me; if there's a way for us to get the hell off this station, I'm going to find it."

He smiled. "That's the Shepard I know. Come on- get up off the floor, soldier. That's an order." He offered his hand. The corner of her mouth twitched in a grin at the mock irreverence, and she clasped his wrist and allowed him to pull her up. He pulled with more force than he had initially intended, and she stumbled; he steadied her with a hand on her other shoulder, and their eyes locked.

The feelings they had discussed still simmered below the surface. They had both elected to ignore them, knowing what the consequences were. But here they were, tempting them to throw caution to the wind. They stood on the precipice, their lips moving imperceptibly closer together as their eyes stayed locked together…

3 September, 2183 CE

Somewhere in the Pangaea Expanse

He had come to her.

The now-near-outlawed SSV Normandy had hunted the entire cluster in search of Ilos, Saren, Sovereign, the Geth… any sign of their objective. So far, none had presented itself, and with each passing moment, a weight had steadily hung itself on the hearts of all the crew. It felt as though the time of their doom was arriving, and they were spending their last moments trying to fix a problem that would inevitably become unsolvable.

So, with his heart in his throat, he came to her personal cabin. It took her by surprise; she sat up straighter in her chair and pushed back from her console, her head spinning toward the door where he stood. She slowly rose to greet him, but he spoke first. It struck her that it was the first time he had sounded completely unsure of himself around her.

"Shepard- uh, Commander… we need to talk."

She cocked an eyebrow as she teased. "Is this on, or off-record, Lieutenant?"

He looked away to the floor, a hand trying in vain to ease the tension in his shoulders as his voice fell to a whisper. "Please, don't make this harder on me than it already is." He sighed, seeming to regain some of his composure, meeting her gaze once more. "You and I both know the score. Saren is out there, right now, probably on the verge of finding the Conduit. Hell, the Reapers are probably going to do whatever they're going to do with it, and it's all going to be over. Everything. And… Well. I just don't want anything left unsaid between us."

She nodded, crossing her arms and dropping her act. "Okay. Lay it on me, Kaidan. What is it you need to say?"

He stepped forward, no more than two paces away, now. A deep breath to steel himself, and he began. "I've never met anyone like you, Commander. From my time at BAaT until now, I was never one to look for… well, someone. Damned Alliance life- I never wanted my wife to sit at home, worrying about whether I'd come back to them, not knowing where the hell I was, or even if we were in the same arm of the galaxy. And you changed that, for me."

She remained still as he spoke, feeling her heart race inside her chest. He continued. "I know there are regs against us doing… well, anything, really. But… well, shit. We stole the Normandy. Mutiny, grand theft, conduct unbecoming… fraternization with a superior officer seems like a pretty low charge on the list, if the court martial comes."

"And if it doesn't," she continued for him, "it's because we're all going to be dead, anyway."

"Exactly right, Commander." He nodded, gathering his courage. "We've talked before, and we both said there was something there. I just want to know what that something is. Is it… just a thing? Or is there more to it?" He threw caution to the wind. "For my part… there's more."

She stayed still for a moment, studying his face, heart pounding, her mind doing the calculus. You've wanted this, she thought. You wanted him here. Now you have him. Now, what?

She let her arms down and took a step toward him, closing the gap between them. She watched her own hand as it reached out and clasped his, pulling it up between them, and clasped both her hands around it. "I didn't want to pressure you into this. I didn't want you to want this just because I was your superior."

He immediately shook his head, closing his free hand around theirs. "No, Co- Shepard. Jane. I want us. I want you."

She picked her head up again to look into his eyes, smiling, the trembling in her voice surprising her. "I want you, too, Kaidan. Now, and for however much time we have left."

November 21, 2183 CE

Omega Nebula, Armada System

Alchera

After the defeat of Sovereign and the temporary delay of the Reapers, they had kept their liaison a secret aboard the ship. Naturally, everyone aboard knew about it. No one outside, not even the seniors in the Alliance, knew, but for all hands inhabiting the Normandy, it was obvious; they had become inseparable. They spent their nights in bed, their mornings together, their missions paying close attention and fighting with particular purpose and commitment to one another.

They were both still in bed as the Normandy arrived in a system with a suspected pocket of Geth resistance. The navigator chatted idly with a yeoman and the ship's pilot. A ship crept up on sensors.

Hell broke out on the Normandy.

They were out of bed within moments, suiting up as the walls of the deck were bathed in red light, the warning klaxons sounding. She realized the danger the ship was in, and knew that it would soon be lost. She began setting the distress beacon.

Kaidan insisted on staying with her, doing whatever it took to see them both out alive. She insisted that he see to the crew- his responsibility, as the executive officer- and get them to escape pods mounted on the sides of the ship, and calmly asserted that she would persuade the pilot to come with her.

He hesitated for only the second time under her command, but finally relented. "Aye-aye." And departed to carry off her orders. He stole one last glance at her over his shoulder as he boarded an escape pod, watching her move toward the stairs to the top deck.

It would be the last time that he saw her.

Soon, she was cast out into space from the explosions and decompressions on the top deck, having only just barely gotten her pilot safely away. As the beloved ship tore itself apart in a torrent of fire, she sensed that she was beginning to fall toward the planet they had been orbiting. A searing cold chill settled in- first in one spot at the base of her neck, then another where her collarbone ended under her chin.

During the ship's decompression. Suit breach.

Oh, no.

She could feel the breath being torn from her lungs, escaping into space as she fell. Her eyes filled with terror as she sensed her vision beginning to fail her.

Kaidan. Help.

The last images she saw were of them- before Ilos, the days spent on the Citadel afterwards, the nights aboard the ship. The life they had talked about sharing, and would never get to enjoy.

The tears froze in place on her pale, clammy cheeks.

October 17, 2185 CE

Omega Nebula

Normandy SR-2

She had no way of telling how long she stayed sprawled on her bed, but she did know that it was long enough to have run out of tears. Though her body was racked with the fiery emotions she still felt, she could not cry. Her muscles ached from repeatedly tensing them, and she found herself completely unwilling to move from the bed. For her, that was perfectly fine; the Reapers could come and take her. What would she care?

She had nothing left that was worth losing.

The lift door opened, and her breath caught in her throat as a rat-tat-tat sounded at the interior door. She said nothing, eyes fearful, in the hopes that the visitor would simply go away. She could hear EDI attempting to persuade her visitor from entering.

"She is currently indisposed at the moment, Mr. Vakarian. It would probably be best to return at another time. I could alert you when she is next available."

She could not make out the words from his flanging voice, but she could tell he was trying to persuade EDI to let him through. She was surprised to hear the door open, not counting on EDI actually allowing Garrus through.

She quickly found the strength to roll over and sit up on the edge of the bed, the heels of her hands quickly trying to wipe the tear-stained cheeks and sink the red, swollen eyes back into her head. She tried for all the world to act as if nothing were out of the ordinary and addressed her visitor.

"Garrus!" she said, her voice only cracking on the last sound of his name. She took a brief calming breath to steady herself. "I'm surprised to see you… what can I do for you?"

He shuffled as carefully as his talons would let him, carefully avoiding the mess that had been left, the soft clinking noises on the deck seeming to echo in the small room. His subharmonics rumbled as he responded: "Shepard… you and I both know what this is about. Are you okay?"

She shook her head and looked away, not allowing herself to look into his eyes, lest she begin anew. "I don't know what you're talking about, Garrus. I'm fine."

"Shepard." He persisted, waving a couple of talons about to indicate the mess. "This doesn't tell me that my commander has her head on straight. The mission itself was bad enough…" He stopped himself, seeing her shoulders tense at what she thought would be his next choice of words. He changed tack. "This is one of your oldest friends talking, here. I'm worried about you, and so is the rest of the crew. Even Joker didn't crack a joke when he asked about you; he just said that we don't have our next heading. I'll ask again; are you okay?"

Her shoulders dropped very slightly, with none of the tension evaporating. She waved her hand dismissively. "Just tell Joker to take us on to wherever the Illusive Man thinks the next potential squad member is." She lifted her head, glassy eyes meeting his, her lips pursed in a dangerously thin line. "As for me, I'm fine."

"Shepard, you're not fooling me. I may have been partially blinded by that rocket I took to my ugly face, but you're my friend. We've been to hell and back." He sat down on the coffee table across from her, folding his hands together, his forearms resting on his knees as he shook his head, looking down at the floor. "When we left Noveria, Virmire, and Ilos, you were fine. When you were done talking to Sovereign, and he spouted off about how everyone in the entire galaxy was going to die, you were fine." He paused and lifted his gaze, momentarily locking eyes with her. "Right now… I can tell that you are not fine."

She swatted away the words, finding the strength to stand, taking a few steps toward the stairs that led to the office space in her cabin. "Trust me, I know what you're trying to do, and-"

"Look." His exclamation was pointed, and her gait slowed before she reached the stairs. He had stood up, leaned towards her, a hand pointing towards her back. "I know that look. I wore it when I stormed back into my own base on Omega and found most of my crew dead. When I-"

"I'm so sick of this!" She whirled, viciously kicking her helmet, not caring to aim, and not at all concerned about the resulting pain in her foot. It whirled and arced upward, striking several of her model ships as it crashed through the display. "Everyone else gets to have their fucking problems, and who's got to be there to help them through it like a good officer? Me." She raised her arms and spread them wide, as if pleading her case to the universe. "But the very second I have something to deal with, the world grinds to a halt and just ceases to function, is that it? We can't move on and do the next item on our agenda without me, for once? I can't just take a fucking break?"

He took a step back, raising his hands defensively. "Commander, I didn't mean to-"

"You know what?" she asked rhetorically, her voice seething with the frustration that had slowly mounted after every setback since the Lazarus station. Her hands formed air quotes and her voice dripped with contempt at the mention of her employer: "Just tell the Illusive Man that I quit. Let the Reapers come. I've got nothing left to take, anyway. I'd welcome them with open arms." She raised her gaze to the window above her bed, shouting at the invisible foe. "You hear that, you pieces of shit? I'm ready! Beam me up and take me home, because I am done."

Garrus shrank back, trying once more- meekly- to appeal to her better nature. "Shepard, I'm sorry. If you'd rather I just-"

"Lay off, Garrus!" She focused on him with gritted teeth, pointing accusingly, eyes hot with fresh tears, voice shaking with rage. "You have no idea what I am going through, right now. You couldn't understand what he and I had. I loved him. And he loved me. And he doesn't believe me." She sat down on the middle stair as her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She let her head fall into her hands once more, as much to hide her face from Garrus as needing the comfort of a warm touch, even her own. "He... doesn't love me, anymore," She whispered.

His mandibles flared in shock, his body rooted to the deck. Not once in all his service under her command had she yelled at him in that way. In fact, he thought to himself, she wasn't even like this after the Council meeting when we got back from Virmire. After an unendurably long silence, broken only by her shuddering breath, he walked toward the only escape route: the staircase where she sat. He felt the need to comfort her, to say something, but words would not come; what could be said? What words would make this more palatable? What could be shared that would relieve the pain? He did not know. So he continued past her, toward the lift.

As the doors closed, he finally finished his broken thought in a soft, quaking, harmonic. "I wore that look... when I learned you were dead."

He would never know if she had heard him or not. When the door seals re-engaged, she hugged her knees close to her chest, her head resting on her knees.

Not far away, the model of the Normandy SR-1, knocked out of its pegs by her helmet, lay snapped through the middle of a portrait that had been sitting on the desk. A distorted image of a Lieutenant Commander blurred as the holographic display tried to realign itself.

The Normandy sailed off into the all-enveloping cosmic black.