A/N: All characters belong to Bioware. Oh, the fun I would have had if they weren't…

Continuing with the "Mass Effect 3 was amazing, but I wish this had been in there" theme, here's a one-shot with Shepard during the Geth Dreadnought mission and certain parts reminding her of being spaced from the original Normandy. No plot, mainly reflection and some tender fluff between Garrus and Shepard, but honestly, can you ever have too much of that? :P

My Shepard is the same one as in my other stories (for those who have read them), but this can be read separately from the others.


-1-

"Don't dwell on the past. Live and learn from it. Move on. Your past doesn't have to control you," Robert Shepard had always told his daughter, Jane. It was advice she had always repeated to others. To people like Jack, who let their pasts dictate their present, who continued to be haunted day in and day out, unable to move on.

As for Jane Shepard herself, she had spent sixteen years trying to live by that advice. Whether dealing with the loss of her family and childhood home on Mindoir, the loss of her unit on Akuze, the deaths of squadmates (Kaidan, Mordin, Thane), she always found it within herself to push past the grief and move on. Was it harder at times than others? Yes. Was she tormented by the ghosts of the pasts, especially in her dreams? Yes. But she never forgot her father's advice, even more so once she became a commander. For the most part, she thought she had done fairly well living in the present, not letting her past define her, not allowing it to come between her and a mission.

However, that advice was put to the test when she climbed onto the docking tube leading to the geth dreadnought in the Perseus Veil.

She had thought nothing of it at first, going about business as usual. Discussing the situation with the admirals. Quickly catching up with Tali in her quarters. Snapping on her armor, strapping on her weapons, double-checking the clasp of her helmet. Even trying to stifle laughter at Garrus's cluelessness about the meaning behind Dr. Michel's turian chocolate gift and Tali's playful warning to watch her back, while they stood in the decontamination area of the ship.

When she stepped out onto the tube, it wasn't so bad for the first minute or so. The lack of gravity was certainly disconcerting, but nothing she couldn't handle.

When her gaze focused on the gaping hole through the tube, granting her a clear view of the raging inferno of a battle out beyond the dreadnought, her skin grew clammier underneath her armor and gloves. The images of the Normandy's open hull revealing the brightly lit planet of Alchera and debris floating through the CIC flashed before her eyes.

Yet she pressed on. The memory was unpleasant, but not crippling. She could still function, still talk, even teasingly remind Joker that geth thought windows were structural weaknesses when he said the geth could look out a window and see the Normandy docked beside them.

Move on, her father had told her. Don't let the past haunt you.

But what her father hadn't counted on was his daughter would die, after being spaced from the ship under her command. The ship she had called home. He hadn't counted on her floating through space, the air mechanisms in her suit rupturing, and her clawing at them in a desperate attempt to repair them. As her vision blackened and her strength waned.

She had kept it together, but when the tube she had been standing on began to pull apart and she felt herself teetering, it took all her self-control not to cry out in sheer terror, as the same thought raced through her mind. Over and over again like a sacred mantra:

Not again, please not again.

The most that escaped her lips was a choked gasp, with a shaky exhale once she had regained her balance. Shepard tried to fall back into a stable breathing pattern without intently focusing on it. Else she would remember the wheezing breaths, the sound of her own weakening heartbeat pounding in her ears.

She informed Joker, Garrus and Tali that the tube was a no-go, that she would find another entrance. All the while, she tried to keep her voice as steady as possible. No sense in alerting them to her moment of panic.

As Shepard slinked over the fallen beams and hoisted herself up ladders to the next docking area, she continued talking to Tali, under the guise of asking about the origins of the current war between the geth and the quarians. If she continued talking, she wouldn't focus on the feeling of unstoppable flight through the atmosphere. The dying breaths of a woman who had survived so much, whose luck had finally run out. The panic and denial racing through her mind replaced by reluctant acceptance of her mortality as her world dimmed around her.

Despite Shepard's best efforts, the images continued to flash before her eyes. Bile rose in her throat, but she bit her dry lip to keep it down, the bitter copper taste of blood entering her mouth. Once Shepard had reached the console and opened the doors for Tali and Garrus, she had to plop down on one of the nearby creates, her legs beginning to quake uncontrollably.

Move on, don't dwell on the past.

She had to get a grip. It was traumatic, but she couldn't allow herself to completely collapse under the weight of it. After all, she was alive now, wasn't she?

So lost in her thoughts, she didn't even hear Tali or Garrus approach until they had climbed the ladder. Shepard made to stand up again, resigning herself to refocus on the task at hand, but Garrus reached out and with a gentle shove, forced her back down.

"Rest. Tali needs a moment to hack the door."

Of course Garrus would have seen past her false bravado, heard her shaky breathing and sensed the fear hidden in her voice.

Garrus had yet to let go of her shoulder, instead keeping a firm grip on it. "So, see any action?"

An attempt at teasing, something to distract her from the dark memories threatening to consume her.

"Not yet, but I'm sure you can help me find them." Her voice lowered, falling into an attempt at shameless flirting to lighten the mood.

Garrus gave a light chuckle. "Trouble follows you everywhere, Shepard. Not me."

Shepard laid her hand on the one resting on her shoulder, locking her five fingers with his three. "Always a charmer."

"It's a skill."

Only when Tali declared the way was open did Garrus let go, but he grazed his talons against her helmet, right where her cheek would be in a gentle caress. Shepard brushed her own fingertips against his gloved talons as he pulled away, unspoken gratitude conveyed through this one action alone.

She felt better, more like herself. At least long enough to complete the mission, anyway. She knew the vivid flashbacks wouldn't easily go away now that they had resurfaced. More baggage she would have to come to terms with, but right now they had to disable the signal within the dreadnought.

As they traveled down the hallway, she cracked a smile at Garrus lamenting over, yet again, not getting a new gun when Shepard did. She bit back a snicker when Tali replied she couldn't find one in his size. She appreciated the distraction from Garrus and Tali, engaging in the playful banter that she had come to expect from them when taking down the Collectors.

The journey to the drive-core went as smoothly as missions like that could possibly go. Even with geth troopers blowing up the stabilizers on an elevator they had been traveling on, and Shepard almost falling to her death if not for Tali and Garrus lifting her up. Course, when wasn't she having to leap to escape blasts, jump to avoid falling a few stories?

Seeing Legion attached to those wires, trapped by the Reapers and used as a means to broadcast their signal to the geth, had been a shock. Shepard had been expecting to see Legion again during this mess of a war, but not like this. Nor did she expect Tali to be so glad to see Legion again. They hadn't exactly been on the best terms, tension still between them from when Tali had caught Legion scanning her omnitool to send its data back to the geth.

Besides fighting wave after wave of geth (it certainly was like old times with Garrus and Tali by her side) and her momentarily lapse into her memories, once they released Legion from his chains, they could head back to the Normandy. Shepard was ready to declare it a successful mission.

Of course, with Shepard, nothing was ever easy.

Admiral Han'Gerrel had apparently decided he had not done enough damage to the Migrant Fleet and ordered for hits at the now unshielded dreadnought, instead of allowing time for civilian ships to escape

While the four of them were still on it.

As Ash would have said, that upped the anti.

Narrowly missing a shot from a geth hunter that seemingly appeared from nowhere, they jumped back down to the level they had entered on and sprinted to the nearest exit to get to the geth fighters (for, like windows, geth did not see the value in installing escape pods into their ships; apparently only organics saw the value).

Beams collapsed onto the floor behind them, the ship shook from side to side as if its only purpose was to make the three of them stumble, and fiery balls literally stormed through the walls, reminding them of the precious seconds remaining before the dreadnought was torn apart.

It was happening again. She could clearly see it in her mind, the blazing explosion that had projected her into the abyss, but she shook herself from the tenacious hold of her memories as she picked herself up from the steel platform she had landed on a moment before.

"I can't raise them, Shepard!" Tali cried, unable to hide the sheer panic in her voice.

"We can make it, Tali!" Shepard reassured as they bolted up the platform towards the shuttle Legion had already reached. Shepard heard Garrus swear at Han'Gerrel, issuing a string of words her translator could not read. Not that she really needed to.

The onslot of explosions unceasingly rocked the dreadnought, almost forcing Shepard off her feet again, but she held firm. Tali wasn't so fortunate, stumbling head-on into the platform. Shepard raised her up, dragging a somewhat dazed Tali with her to the fighter. They were literally an arm's length from the geth fighter.

Just in time for another explosion nearby, the radiating pulse from the blast wrenching Tali out of her grasp. Seconds later, Shepard felt herself floating in mid-air.

And this time, she could not hide the startled yell bursting forth. She instinctively reached behind her to her neck, feeling for the leak that was not there. She didn't hear Garrus or Tali call her name or Joker asking if everything was alright. All she heard was the sound of her own breathing, so much like how it was before the rupture, before she had eight seconds of staggered breathing before the blackness claimed her…

One second…please don't let it end like this…

Two seconds…the batarians couldn't kill me, Saren and the geth failed to stop me, even a Reaper couldn't take me out…

Three seconds…the Reapers are still out there, I can't die yet…

Four seconds…I'm sorry your sacrifice was in vain, Mom, Dad…

Five seconds…I hope Joker doesn't blame himself…

Six seconds…please let their shuttles make it…

Seven seconds…I hope you all have long, happy lives…

Eight seconds…Please…finish the fight…

Shepard broke out of her trance when she felt a three-taloned hand clamp down on her left arm and tug her towards him, just as Legion was pulling Tali into the fighter.

Garrus followed quickly behind him, dragging a motionless Shepard behind him through the opening of the fighter, closing it once she had passed all the way through. She vaguely heard him tell Joker they were coming in a geth fighter, snap at Legion to go when Legion asked if they had adequate leg-room in the back.

Shepard felt Tali place a hand over her tense, balled-up right hand and squeeze it, and asked if she was ok. Shepard forced herself to nod. She should have been asking that of Tali, but her tongue felt heavy and the words would not come.

"Is the air pressurized in here, Legion?" Garrus asked the piloting geth.

"Yes, but we fail to see the need for removing your helmets at this time, unless it is to check on Shepard-Commander's condition," was Legion's reply.

"Remind me to have a chat with it on context clues," Garrus said softly, already reaching towards Shepard's helmet.

"Says the turian who's oblivious when a woman gets him dextro-amino chocolate," Tali muttered under her breath.

At any other time, Shepard would have laughed at the comment, but she was too busy tilting her head from Garrus's grasp.

"Jane," Garrus said, a slightly exasperated growl entering into his voice.

She didn't want them to see her like this, see the wild look she was sure rested in her eyes, the stray tears escaping from their confines, the struggle to get her frantic breathing under control again.

"The Normandy is within range," Legion announced, either oblivious or pretending not to notice the ongoing struggle between Shepard and Garrus.

"I'm fine," Shepard weakly stated, knowing her voice, usually strong and confident, sounded hesitant. A red flag, right there.

Garrus didn't say anything to the contrary; there wasn't any need to. He finally gained a sturdy enough hold on her helmet to release the clasps on them, twisting it off her head. Giving Garrus and Tali a good look at her face.

She refused to lift her head up, her pride forcing her eyes to stay strictly rooted on the floor of the fighter. Tali's grasp on her hand tightened, but not unbearably. Shepard's helmet set aside, Garrus pulled his own off and placed it beside hers. He grasped her chin and forced her head up towards his, so he could better see her and judge her condition for himself.

Shepard found herself transfixed by the burning devotion and worry swirling in Garrus's eyes. Garrus of the laser-sharp focus, who could spot a target from yards away. Garrus, who could always tell when something was bothering her and try to find out what so he could help.

Not breaking eye-contact, he brushed his talons against the tear tracks on her cheeks, wiping away the remaining wetness on her face. Without saying a word, he tilted her head so her forehead rested against his, in the turian kiss that had become so natural between them, a way to express love without having ever uttered a word.

Everything will be ok. I'll always be here for you, Garrus seemed to say with this gesture alone.

Even when Legion brought the geth fighter into the Normandy's docking hanger, the three of them sat there in silence for a minute longer. Shepard took in this moment (she didn't have the energy to do anything else at this point), the comfort of her friend and that of her mate.

Shepard finally removed her forehead from Garrus's and released Tali's hand to retrieve her helmet and head to the comm room to give her report to Hackett (once she had changed out of her armor and cleaned herself up). As she lifted the hatch open, she heard Tali say, "Thanks for pulling me in, Legion. If you hadn't been there…"

Tali's words stopped Shepard in her tracks. She hadn't fully realized it, but since Garrus pulled her in, who would have grabbed Tali if Garrus couldn't reach for her in time? What if something had happened to Tali that could have been prevented if Shepard hadn't lost control over herself? If Legion had already been inside the fighter, what could have happened?

Shepard had always hated dwelling on the what-ifs. She had never seen the point in them. The situation was what it was, as her father said to her when she was ten years old. Don't dwell, live and learn from your mistakes.

But Shepard's lapse of control could have cost her friend's life, or at the very least, some kind of bodily harm. And that was not acceptable.

Ignoring Tali's call to her, Shepard climbed out of the hole and onto the docking hangar, trying to quell the growing queasiness of her stomach and the quaking of her legs.


Shepard had never believed in finding comfort at the bottom of a bottle. She remembered the stories her mother had told her about Shepard's grandfather, how the alcohol would transform him into a monster, willing to strike his own children and wife in a drunken rage. Shepard doubted she would ever allow herself to go that far, but it was still a reminder of a path she never wanted to travel down.

Once she had given into temptation. After the loss of her men on Akuze. She ended up having a massive hangover for two days, sprawled out on the couch in her apartment, unable to move, even a change in the slightest position impossible without feeling nauseous. So there on the couch she remained, with a bucket by her side in case the urge to vomit struck. She swore never again.

Yet, despite all that, there she was, in the Normandy's lounge, stirring around a greenish mixture she had seen Kasumi drinking a few times. Shepard wasn't entirely sure what was in it, but either it was weak or the implants had increased her tolerance, because she did not feel any different. Still stone sober.

Then again, she hadn't even managed to get through one in an hour, just swirling it around and staring out the window at the stars. Most likely that was the reason why she didn't feel calmer. Still wired and ashamed at her behavior. Not that of Commander Shepard, but that of plain, colony girl Jane Shepard.

After she had given her briefing to Hackett, she had given Han'Gerrel a piece of her mind. He had dared to assume just because they were both military, she would forgive his actions. Mission parameters did change, but to her, nothing was worth risking the lives of civilians.

Then, if that wasn't enough, she had to play mediator between Admirals Raan and Xen and Legion. The last thing she wanted was for the war to occur within her own ship. Xen had been practically drooling at the thought of disassembling Legion and examining him, but Shepard had made sure to shut that idea down quickly, much to Xen's disappointment.

Tali had tried to talk to her, but Shepard had reassured Tali she was fine, that she just needed some time alone to clear her head. Shepard had not failed to notice the apprehension resting in Tali's brightly lit eyes and knew this would not be the last conversation on the matter. Tali could be extremely persistent when she wanted to be.

Then she had briefly talked to Legion, who had expressed gratitude for her support, her understanding. She imagined she must have been a rarity for Legion. An organic willing to trust a race of machines she had previously killed in droves three years prior. Either she was crazy or a saint. Shepard wasn't comfortable with thinking of herself as either, only someone who believed everyone, everything, had the right to self-determination if they earned it. She had sworn to Legion she would find a way to free the geth from Reaper control and end this war with the geth and quarians. It had gone on for long enough.

Shepard sat on the sofa between the bar and door facing the window, drink set aside, knees drawn up, arms circled around them as she stared out at the passing stars. There was something strangely comforting about watching the stars. It gave her the chance to remove herself from the chaos of her day to day duties and missions, to simply take in the fact she had made it to live another day.

Shepard was surprised Garrus had not come looking for her. Maybe he recognized she needed a moment or two alone. Just as well. This was her burden. No one else would ever experience something like that nor would she ever wish that on anyone.

Well, except Kai Leng or the Illusive Man. Her hidden sadistic side would take great pleasure in witnessing that.

In all honesty, Shepard hadn't really given much thought to what happened to her that night three years ago. She never seemed to have enough down time to ponder on it for long before something else demanded her attention. Even when she had been under guard for six months, she always seemed to keep herself busy looking through reports and talking to James or Anderson.

Even when she woke up for the first time after two years of being comatose, or worse, she wasn't even allowed the luxury of thinking about it before she was up and moving, fighting for her life against wave after wave of mechs (then again, she hadn't known about her death until Jacob told her). Hell, her scars hadn't even completely healed. Then she got the abridged version of what had happened and about Project Lazarus from Jacob and Miranda. They had tried to answer her questions in the short amount of time they had had, but something like couldn't just be brushed away with a few simple answers. By the time they got to the Normandy, it had seemed pointless to further ask about it and she had thought there were more pressing concerns.

"So, Commander, are we ok with the quarians firing on a ship with you still on it?" Shepard was proud that she didn't jump out of her seat when she heard Joker's voice, but she did twitch slightly at the sudden noise. Good to know Joker still had the greatest timing when contacting her.

Shepard glared up at the ceiling as she recalled Gerrel's excuses, his obvious bloodlust to destroy the geth, no matter the cost. "We are not."

"Right. Just double-checking. Anyways, good to have Tali back, even if it's just for a little while. And you even found Legion! Is he still wearing that piece of your old armor cause that wasn't creepy at all," Joker pointed out.

"Legion pulled our asses out of there, Joker. Ease up," Shepard requested.

"You're the commander. Won't hear another word out of me," Joker replied, but the mischievous infliction in his voice said otherwise.

"I don't believe you for a second, Joker."

"Believe what you want, Shepard. I'm all about respectability."

"Uh-huh. So those "helpful" vids you sent to Garrus are a testament to that?"

"He wanted some dating tips and info on human culture. The vids are actually very informative," Joker argued.

"So those vids included suggestions like mood music and alcohol?" Shepard asked, remembering Garrus's awkward yet endearing attempts to set the perfect mood on their first night together.

"Maybe. I sent him a fair number. He seemed like he needed the help. Though he hasn't used any of the romance lines in them. Those are the best part!" Joker lamented.

"For which I'm extremely grateful," Shepard muttered, shuddering at the thought of any of those corny lines on her like "Be alive with me tonight." The thought alone made her want to gag.

"Well, if he does say something like "someone call heaven, I think an angel's gone missing," be sure to let me know."

Shepard gave a humorless chuckle. "I'll be sure to do more than let you know, Joker."

"And I'll pretend that wasn't the least bit threatening. FYI, the geth are still blocking quarian access to the mass relay, but we remain undetected thanks to our state of the art stealth drive. So we can hit Rannoch or leave the system whenever you want."

Shepard nodded. "Good to know. Anything else?"

"Jeff wanted to ask how you were doing. I noticed your pulse had increased and your breathing had become sporadic during the start and end of the mission. Not to mention your unresponsiveness to his question."

"I was going to be more subtle about it, EDI, but thanks." Joker paused. "Just wanted to make sure you aren't having major freakouts about the whole lack of gravity thing and traveling on a torn-up cylinder."

"Better now. Got a little intense, but no worse for wear."

"Not according to EDI's readings, you weren't. And the fact you froze on me. And you seemed pretty unnerved when that tube pulled apart, no matter how hard you tried to hide it."

"I appreciate the concern, Joker, but I'm fine," she said, frustration entering her voice.

"Like hell you are! You were spaced, you can't just forget that! You're like half-robot at this point! All because you had to pull my ass out of the fire."

There it was. The statement they had made every effort never to mention. A statement they both knew had some truth within it, but ultimately, she had made the choice to stay behind, did what was expected of any commanding officer, but it had been much more than that. She hadn't been saving the life of her pilot, but that of her friend.

"Couldn't leave behind the best pilot in the fleet, now could I?" Shepard asked casually, falling back into the lighthearted banter in order to counter the growing dark mood.

"Yeah, guess it would have looked bad on your report." Joker paused, as if hesitant to continue. "Seriously, you sure you're ok?"

"I'm ok, Joker. Really."

"Figured that was the answer, but didn't want to face a certain turian if I didn't try. Might use that stick up his ass and beat me with it," Joker replied.

"I know for a fact he doesn't have one there, Joker."

"For the record, you said it, not me." Joker then signed off, leaving her alone again with her drink and her thoughts.

Shepard stood up from the couch, stretching her legs from the position they had stayed in for the past forty-five minutes. She lifted her glass from the floor and stopped in front of the window, finally taking a strong sip from the glass.

In this light, she could clearly see her reflection. She titled her neck, tracing the area on her cheek where her old scar from Akuze used to be. She had been too close to an exploding beam (who would have thought Thresher Maw spit could be so acidic) and a part of the beam had literally sliced across her face, leaving a deep gash in its wake.

Fixing that was one thing she was thankful to Cerberus for.

Shepard stared back at her reflection. She realized why she wasn't fooling anyone when she said she was fine. She looked like shit. Her eyes lacked any brightness, with deep (almost bruised) lines underneath them, her skin paler than usual. The glass felt loose in her hand, on the verge of slipping out and crashing to the floor. She faintly tightened her grip.

The memories were hitting her again. Floating into the abyss, the gasping breaths, the frantic attempts to fight the blackening of her vision. A dying woman, filled with regret.

Now Joker's comment rang in her ears, reminding her of Cerberus's role in her survival, the cybernetic implants hidden beneath the surface. She still didn't fully know how much her body relied on the cybernetics to survive, but it was safe to assume she might have still been in a coma (or worse) without them.

Shepard ran a shaky hand through her shoulder-length auburn hair, getting caught in some of the small tangles. She leaned forward, resting her head on the cool glass. She hated this feeling. This vulnerability. She was supposed to be the strong one, the stead-fast one who laughed in the face of danger, the mistress of surviving impossible odds. Allowing vulnerability reminded her of who she was before, of the girl before the Alliance marine, before the commander. For the commander, there was no room for fear, no room for doubt, not even when dealing with something as distressing as her death.

She focused on her eyes, the reflection boring through to her core. She remembered when she first woke up, her ocean-blue eyes held an unnerving red tint to them. A further reminder of the pieces of metal in her body. The tint had eventually gone away, alongside her scars, but she had refused to look at herself in the mirror until then.

"Did Cerberus really just fix me? Or am just a high-tech VI that thinks it is Jane Shepard?" Shepard whispered, finally vocalizing it, a dark thought she had long kept under lock and key.

"You're real. A little crazy, maybe, but real."

Shepard's head shot up. She turned to see Garrus standing in the doorway.

"Joker tell you I was in here?" Shepard asked, already knowing the answer.

"Might have called me over the comm and mentioned something about you talking to him." His gaze focused on the glass in her hand. "I thought you said you didn't hide behind a bottle." Not accusatory, just curious.

"As you can see, I'm not doing a particularly good job at it. Same drink since I got here an hour ago," Shepard replied, showing him the three-quarters empty glass. He grabbed it from her out-stretched hand and walked over to place it on the bar counter.

"Just as well. Can't have Commander Shepard drunk on her ass, can we?" Garrus asked, mandibles flared in a small smirk. An attempt at humor to cover up the negative, what Garrus usually did best.

"No, we can't," Shepard said, her dark mood returning, Garrus's comment a reminder of her failure to be that commander earlier in the day.

"Spirits, Shepard, I didn't mean..." Garrus began, sensing words only meant to tease and cheer her up had done the opposite.

"I know you didn't mean it like that, Garrus. Believe me, I owe you big time for what you did today." She had appreciated his attempts to comfort her, even if she hadn't full expressed it.

Garrus inched closer to her, his hands resting on her hips, talons digging through the soft fabric of her black pants.

"You owe me nothing, you know that. The least I could do after everything you've done for me," he murmured, grazing his mouth plates against her mouth in a chaste kiss. He then nuzzled her cheek with his unscarred mandible, his hot breath floating on her skin and sending pleasurable shivers down her spine.

He wrapped his arms around her stiff form, encircling her in his embrace, gently stroking her back and pressing on the columns of her spine. She wrapped her own arms around his neck, planting gentle kisses at the base of his throat.

Garrus finally broke the peaceful silence, asking, "What happened down there, Jane?"

He used her first name. Rarely did he say it. It was partly out of habit he called her Shepard, but it also seemed more special, as he only called her Jane when he was serious, only when he was deeply concerned, only when he said he loved her.

She lowered her arms and turned in his grip, staring back out at the passing stars. After a moment, the words left her mouth before she could stop them.

"It was all too much. The docking tube was just like the torn-up CIC and the lack of gravity…it reminded me of when…" she trailed off, unable to finish.

"That would be traumatic for anyone, you can't blame yourself for your reaction," Garrus replied without hesitation, reaching to thread his right hand through her thick strands of red hair.

"But not during a mission, Garrus. If Legion hadn't pulled Tali in…what if something had happened because I allowed my emotions to get the better of me?"

"But nothing did. That's all that matters," Garrus said with a cocky confidence only he was capable of possessing. Well, maybe except James. Shepard wished she could be so certain.

They were silent for a few minutes, the soft techno music in the background the only sound in the room.

"I was supposed to be a strong leader, Garrus, making sure you and Tali were in that fighter before me. But how could I when I remembered my burning lungs, my final thoughts before I lost consciousness?"

"You're not just a persona or a symbol, Jane. You feel like the rest of us, you're not a robot."

Shepard chuckled darkly. "But I am half-robot, thanks to Cerberus. Bet the Illusive Man's wishing he had listened to Miranda and installed that control chip. Would have saved him so much trouble."

Garrus traced her cheek with his right hand, his talon a featherlight touch on her skin, passing over where her old scar used to be. "Despite what you might think, you're still the same woman I met three years ago. The same charismatic, kind, strong, beautiful woman who wasn't afraid to chew me out for being too reckless. I don't think less of you for what happened today and I never will."

He cupped her face in his hands, his talons lightly pressing into her skin. "And if there's one thing I'm thankful to Cerberus for is bringing you back, for giving this," he motioned between them with his head, "a chance to happen."

Shepard gave a weak smile, her eyes shining brightly at his words. "I'm sure bringing me back to show off my flexibility skills to you was the Illusive Man's top priority."

"It certainly would have been at the top of my list."

"Even more than bringing me back to fight Reapers?" Shepard teased, the black cloud that had been gripping her disappearing.

"Lucky for us, you're very good at both," Garrus said, hugging her around the waist again and nuzzling her left ear with his nose.

"Only because I have a certain turian by my side," Shepard replied lightheartedly, but her eyes conveyed a different tone, one that said how thankful she was to have him by her side, how she couldn't do any of this without him.

Garrus tightened his hold on her, molding her body to fit together against his, resting his head on top of hers, as best he could with the armor in the way. Shepard sensed he understood what she really meant. He never missed much with her, it seemed.

"Maybe, while we have all the squadmates here, we could make a trip to Alchera," Garrus suggested, his muffled voice rumbling on her head.

Shepard pushed back the growing lump in her throat, resting her hands on his around her waist. "That would be nice, Garrus." Remind all of them of the possible price of service, yet why they had to continue fighting. She would plan for that soon, while they all had the opportunity. They could give a proper memorial for their comrades at the site, instead of her solitary tribute she had given on the icy planet.

"Now, Shepard, what was Tali talking about when she said to watch yourself?"

She couldn't help it. Shepard burst out laughing uncontrollably, stomach muscles aching from the force, and a lightheartedness overcoming her that she had not felt in quite some time. How was it Garrus could notice so much yet be so clueless at times?

"Garrus, Dr. Michel obviously has a thing for you. She once sent an e-mail asking about you and she asked about you again the last time I was in the hospital. Practicably fawned about you."

"She what?" he cried, eyes widening.

"It's understandable since you saved her from Fist's men. Don't worry, Garrus, you can still have the chocolate. I know you're a one woman kind of turian," Shepard reassured him, giving him a chaste kiss of her own.

"Damn straight I am," Garrus said against her lips, slightly regaining his swagger, a slow-burning desire reflected in his eyes, his hand trailing towards the zipper of her jacket…

"Shepard, Legion has asked for your presence. It involves the group of geth primes on Rannoch it mentioned." EDI was becoming just as good as Joker at interrupting at the most inopportune times. Joker must have been so proud.

"Understood, EDI," Shepard said, not letting disappointment enter her voice as Garrus's hand dropped.

"I'll let you get to it, then. I'll go make sure Legion hasn't toyed with my algorithms," Garrus said, letting go of Shepard.

"I'm sure it wouldn't be any trouble for you to fix it," Shepard said, stifling her amused laughter.

"It's the principle," he said as he began walking towards the door. Before he got any further, Shepard reached out and clutched his arm, forcing him to cast his gaze upon her.

"Thank you, Garrus…for everything," Shepard said softly, not needing to say anything more, repeating the same words he had after the confrontation with Sidonis.

Garrus leaned down and pressed his mouth plates against her forehead. "Always," he murmured before heading out, back to the Main Battery.

As Shepard watched him leave, she found herself remembering her father's words again…

Don't dwell on the past. Live and learn from your mistakes. Move on…

As the words repeated themselves in her mind, a realization suddenly dawned on her. You could only move on from the past if there was something in your present, in your future, to move onto. For some, whether by choice or by circumstance, that did not happen. They had no other choice but to dwell. She had a choice.

As Shepard traveled up the elevator to the war room, she could not hide the smile creeping onto her face. Yes, the memories would always be there and she would stumble at times to handle them. Yes, she would still be stubborn and attempt to remain the fearless symbol of hope the galaxy needed her to be, but at the end of the day, the mistakes, her bad calls, the traumatic events of her past, would never fully consume her. Because she would always have something better to move onto.

She had the lifelong friendships of the people on the Normandy and abroad. She had her relationship with Garrus, who would always pick her back up if she fell.

She had no idea how the final battle would play out, but she would be ready to make whatever sacrifice asked of her. If she was forced to accept death's embrace a second time, she would not be filled with reluctant acceptance, with regret. She would be a woman who, despite everything she had been through, had spent the last months of her life finding true peace in the arms of a turian.


A/N: Like it? Any improvements? Let me know! Also, if anyone's interested, I'm also toying with either doing another chapter/addendum to this story or have a separate one of the original Normandy crew going down to Alchera and visiting the SR-1's remains, but I haven't decided yet.