"Go!"

Well, I knew an order when I heard one. But that don't mean I had to follow it, right? Of course I would—but only because it's her saying it.

That high-pitched, frenzied command sounded so urgent and different than her normal hoarse and rough voice.

Rough yet smooth; it was odd, really, because she never faltered once in her speech. There was that one time she accidentally waltzed into the dark territory of the genophage conversation, claiming that it somehow had some sort of relationship similarity with humans. Hah, good one. I had presumed it a joke … it wasn't. That's when she grew quiet and cleared her throat. After that, I suspected she would just drop it. Wasn't the case—she refused to let it go. She was interested.

And now she was worried. We all saw that piece of hell-ship plummeting towards the Citadel Tower. I'd blame it on the damned pilot, but it would be futile. It was imminent that he had no choice but to take that final shot. So what if we died? As long as Sovereign was gone.

She stood, feet planted firmly, arms at her sides, just … waiting. I've heard jokes about her being 'Space Jesus', what with her name being Shepard and the fact that she had the power of a fucking Goddess—waiting. Granted, she didn't have to wait long, but—she took it. Damn woman could take just about anything, I'd gather. But that … that was a large piece of debris.

Krogan had similarities; there were very few differences. The one thing that I did differently was avoid playing the hero. We all knew that was Shepard's job. Even Alenko knew, and he was practically in love with the woman. Not that anybody could blame him.

(Sometimes I laughed at her tough-willed oblivion. Everyone thought that sort of 'what, he likes me?' is supposed to be cute. It isn't when Shepard does it—it's just plain funny.)

So I didn't run up to save her. Doing that would mean disobeying orders, getting another good fighter killed (this ain't my ego, it's the damn truth), and disrespecting Shepard before she died.

Luckily, I didn't have to grab Alenko. He probably was running through the same thoughts as I was, regardless of how ridiculous that would have sounded to another krogan.

I didn't see it, but I heard shattering glass. I didn't have to turn around to know that she was still there. Metallic clattering and thumping booms then filled the room; we were still hit. A groan surfaced out of me, but that's all Sovereign would get from this krogan. It felt like the tower itself was dropped right on top of me and Alenko's backs, but we weren't dead. Wounded, but not dead. Delayed, but not dead.

Silence.

What about Shepard?

It'd be foolish to even hope that she'd survive. I wasn't some softhearted guy that believed willpower would save somebody's ass. She received the worst part of the debris; dodging was inevitable.

I would have been chastising myself for blacking out, but the pain was a mite distracting.

Why would I lie about being hurt? That way I don't get fixed and make it worse? Humans did this a lot; I just don't understand sometimes. Pride is a touchy thing for man, so keep it by staying tip-top shape. That wasn't the time for philosophy, however. It looked like Alenko was stirring as well.

We did not move. We lay there, occasionally passing glances.

"Do … do you think-"

"No," I cut off.

He didn't say more. His sullen expression was genuine; the hatred for Sovereign pure.

Looking at him didn't help my mood. As much as I told myself that I did the right thing by obeying, I silently started to analyze the would-be situation. Maybe, if I had been fast enough, I could have pushed ourselves out of the impact radius and …

No, that was hopeless.

Damn, it wasn't my fault, but I was getting that sickly feeling. Why did the one human that I actually respected—hell, even liked (we didn't just have talks; she broke out of her shell exterior to play poker, spar, and all that crap)—have to die? I'd go on about how that wasn't fair, but fairness never existed in the world. Now wouldn't be the time to start.

We must have blacked out for a long while, because the buzzing of the broken lights faded away, the drops of the water fountain were slowly decreasing, and only the beeping of emergency signals stood out. We could hear the faint echo of a search party in the midst.

Good, I thought. If I had been in better shape, I could have lifted up this thing crushing us. There were just so many layers. Couldn't help but feel a little bad for Alenko, too. Humans were soft (I was begrudgingly upset that Shepard wasn't the only exception anymore), and he was probably hurting the most out of both of us.

Through the cracks, the bright light of an omni-tool hit my retinas and increased the pain of the forming-migraine. Alenko had these all the time, didn't he? Probably didn't make it any less unbearable, though.

A shard of tin was lifted up, revealing a young man in Alliance-wear. Eyes flooding with relief, he turned around and called, "Captain Anderson, we found them! Over here!"

There were two other pairs of footsteps; the first was another part of the search party, the other being Captain Anderson. The older man gently pushed the kid away and knelt down. I had enough strength to lift my head up slightly to take a look at him, but I soon felt more and more pieces being lifted off of me. Alenko and I watched the duo give them air.

I would have shared thanks, but Captain Anderson was already trying his best at the comfort game.

"Take it easy … it's over. You're safe now."

Alenko did not look affected by those words whatsoever. It's not over, we both knew that. We heard what Vigil said, but they didn't. Of course they wouldn't know. Even if they did, it'd be hard to get it through their thick, human skulls.

Then came the expected.

The captain was at my side, prodding already. "Where's the commander? Where's Shepard?"

Argh, lay off. I choked back words and kept my pain—and so help me—remorse under the wounded skin of mine. Anderson didn't shift his worried visage to anything else, though, and I knew I was doing a bad job at looking unfazed.

Screw it.

I let my head fall first, and then I jerked it towards Sovereign's arm. Ain't it obvious?

He blinked as he raised his head, realization dawning. His face looked as torn as mine and Alenko's. Dammit, let's just go home, I wanted to grunt. Strangely, by home, I meant the Normandy. Odd how that worked.

One of the Alliance boys helped Alenko up and was steering him away. He did the worst thing he could do: spare a glance back at the place where Shepard's body lie. We couldn't see where she was, obviously, but I don't think either of us would want to.

Anderson's hand was on my back, just to keep me steady (I didn't know whether to feel resent or gratitude), but he hesitated at the sound of an outstanding clatter.

Something could have fallen, sure, but that didn't stop anybody's heart from fluttering in hope.

Through holes in the giant pile, something was moving.

I didn't care anymore that I was letting myself get worked up. Damn, I didn't care if the chance of that being Shepard was unlikely … there was a higher chance of that being Saren, waking up from the dead again—despite the fact I watched his body disintegrate into the air.

Footsteps.

Well … there she was.

She always did have a knack for pulling off the impossible.

Tough broad, ran through my mind, but I didn't have the heart to utter it out loud. Hair frazzled and knotted, a few scars joining her other previous ones, lips parted, shoulder dislocated, bruised, dirty, limping—but most importantly, smiling. I could go through hours of being crushed just to see a satisfied, purely accomplished, glad-that-you-guys-are-okay smile such as that again. It made everybody else in the room smile too. Including me.

Kaidan exchanged looks from me, to Shepard, to Anderson, to Shepard again; he was probably wondering if he was being delusional and seeing ghosts.

Damn, I hope not.

A few steps closer to us, and she collapsed on the ground. Still conscious, sure, but definitely hurting. I wouldn't doubt that she had been in some sort of haze.

Kaidan went for her first, but I put out an arm. I was hurt the least out of the two of us. Anderson and the two Alliance boys were there, yeah, so why didn't I let them do it? I lifted her up and refused to give her to Anderson, who would probably have a better chance at carrying her than I would.

"I'll do it," I grunted.

Surprisingly, he let me pick her up.

"Wrex?" her voice croaked. I looked down at that battered body and felt a tinge of worry.

"Shepard?"

She put a hand up to my face and smiled once again. "We did it."

Her hand slid off, and she blacked out—myself feeling like I would do the same at any time (I resisted, however, because she needed to get on a damned hospital table ASAP). Her lost consciousness didn't bother me. If she was tough enough to survive that, she could make it back to the Normandy.

"Yeah," I answered quietly, looking up. "I guess we did."

Author's Note: I hope I've succeeded in capturing Wrex's voice. I'm normally not a fan of first person POV, but it just seemed so fitting here. I always thought that Kaidan had the most heartbreaking expression when Anderson asks where Shepard is, but in one of my playthroughs I had Wrex in his place … boy, was I proven wrong. He looked so sad, guys. ;_;

Though this is a one-shot, I think I'll add another something-something for ME2 when Shepard visits on Tuchanka, if the feedback shows that I did well. Thanks for reading!