Well as we all know, the endings to Mass Effect 3 sucked. They were confusing, offered no closure at all, and opened a million new plot holes, as well went against everything we'd just done, such as retaking the Quarian home world, or uniting the Turians and the Krogan.

Many of us are attempting to come up with a way to explain this, and I've decided the ending needed tweaking. And... Yes, enjoy. I've prepared a Paragon and Renegade section sort of for those of you who don't want to stick with just one choice, and I'm playing off my Garrus Romance, so, hopefully no one minds that.

And one more note before I begin, I stuck an OC in for the sake of Renegade optioning, so beware. Salarians have long names. I mean really. It's what, Home world, nation, city, clan, and given name? I must have researched for hours before just finding a name generator and clicking through a million random letter combinations.

And one more thing, tell me if it feels rushed. I have a feeling is is, but I can't judge my own writing very well, so I'd love to get your opinions.

Anyhow, enjoy the story.

Shepard pulled herself to her knees, using her shaking arms as support. Every movement made her body scream as her burns, cuts and scrapes shifted. Large gashes, only partially healed, thanks to her cybernetics reopened, spilled fresh damp blood down her body. Already she could feel the heat from her inflamed skin radiate from her body, permeating the air with the thick stench of sickly iron and decay. The deep red began to pool around her knees and seep under her palms, making them itch.

Her brain pounded painfully against her skull, probably from either the loss of blood, the long fight through London, or whatever the Illusive Man had just pulled. She wasn't sure which, but she was betting on the blood loss playing a huge factor. She must have lost more than her body could spare by now. Any moment she would pass out and die, if she hadn't done so already.

But if she was dead, she wouldn't be in so much pain. Ashley told her after Kaiden's death on Virmire the pain he suffered would have gone away when he died. Shepard had no reason to doubt Ashley then. She still had no reason to doubt her now, so she couldn't have died; not yet.

For a while there was silence while she processed this, as well as complete disorientation, and an uneasy dizziness that set her stomach lurching. A silent groan of discomfort representing her pain, exhaustion, and confusion all at once eventually spread past her lips. The small sound seemed to reverberate against the walls and ceiling, growing louder, burrowing into her brain through her ears and sending several sharp jabs of pain throughout her brain. Her eyes burned with unshedable tears of agony, but she bit them back and forced her head up to examine her surroundings.

She could still see Earth: Reapers, and her own allies, all fighting hard just outside a glass panel that spanned the entirety of the helical dome, stretching far up the rounded sides and clinging to part of the ceiling. Stray bolts of bright blue energy struck the glass like lightning, and bounced back to where they originated: A large machine, smooth and seamless, taking residence in the very centre of the room. A beam of light blue shot outwards from the depths of the machine and through the ceiling.

The glow was strong, and her eyes squinted against it. Her head only grew worse and dropped down against her will to stare at the smooth silver floor. Soon she could pick up the delicate hum of the advanced machine. It was soft, at first, and sweeter than anything she'd ever heard in her life. But at the same time, the music was strong, and a raw, powerful anger washed the entire room. An anxious feeling welled up inside her as the hum grew louder, bringing with it a promise of danger.

Shepard suddenly lost control of her limbs, and her arms buckled beneath her, numb and hollow from their unmoving position. Her face cracked against the ground, and blood exploded from her nose and upper lip. It took a moment to make her tingling arms move and push herself back up. Her panic grew with the increased volume of the demonic music, until she could hardly breathe. She drew in great gasps of the precious oxygen, faster and shallower as the hum of the machine grew louder, until she covered her ears and tried not to scream for silence- and then it ceased.

The noise died down. Instead, the soft patter of footsteps against the floor replaced it and drew her gaze upwards again, searching for the owner through the thick beads of water squeezing past her stubborn eyes.

There he was. The same boy from the vent, her dreams. His form was pure energy, like that running through the machine. Wisps and tendrils grew off his shoulders and face, his clothes, into the air and back into him again. It almost resembled her barrier, and she could feel a strong biotic aura pulse from his form to mingle with her own. Was he there to tell her she really was dead? After all, he never made it off Earth. Maybe she didn't either. Maybe everything was a huge 'This could have happened' deal, and she'd never made it to the Normandy.

He eyed her curiously for a moment, as if unsure what to do with her, before crouching down and offering his hand. Shepard felt a sense of relief as the pain raking her body seemed to melt away when his hand brushed her own. She watched, amazed as her arms seemed to stitch themselves back together, almost as if she'd been given a dose of medigel.

"Wake up, Shepard." His words echoed vibrantly around the vast hemispheric dome.

His voice caught her off guard. Could a voice that melodious have come from the boy she'd failed to save on Earth? The terror stricken voice haunting her every nightmare? The expecting glance in his eyes told her she hadn't imagined the calm, collected voice ringing through her ears. The context of his words were just as confusing. What did he mean by, 'wake up?'

"What?" As the boy tugged on her hand with a surprising strength, giving her the needed momentum to haul herself up, the pain returned, nearly sending her down again. The recently closed wounds, aggravated by her movement began to tear. Through gritted teeth, she added, "Where am I?" He released her hand and she nearly crumpled. Her shoulders hunched forward and her eyes squeezed shut as her stomach rolled.

"We're on the Citadel." He responded. "It's my home." The Citadel. Shepard attempted to think past the pain filling her mind with muddled smoke, and comprehend the revelation. They were on the Citadel. The structure seemed accurate, and she could see it, if she really looked into the flawless design. But she didn't understand how the boy played into it. He lived on Earth, didn't he? Why was he on the Citadel now, of all times, of all places, threatening to knock her away with a biotic pulse that sent tremors through her body the way not even the Collector General could?

"Who are you?" Did she want to know? A nagging feeling in the back of her throbbing mind said no. But then he reached for her hand again, clutching it comfortingly, sealing her wounds and sending away her pain and her doubt for the second time. Her clouded mind was being overcritical, she thought, basking in the warm, painless glow his touch offered.

"I am the Catalyst."

Shepard blinked, staring at the blood dripping from her chin and forming puddles on the floor. The Catalyst wasn't the Citadel after all. But how would this boy, stricken with fear all those months ago, be the answer to her problem?

"I... Thought the Citadel was the Catalyst," she voiced. The Catalyst stroked the back of her hand with his small fingers, leaving a familiar biotic tingle that made her hand twitch

"No. I am the Catalyst, and the Citadel is part of me." He released her hand again, and her headache inched its way back slowly. He turned his back towards her, setting his eyes on the machine residing in the middle of the room. There was a silence, save for the hum of the thing, which began to grow louder again.

Feeling the panic return, Shepard quickly filled the void with her own words to cover the sounds threatening to take over again.

"I need to stop the Reapers." The statement came out sounding more desperate than she'd intended, but didn't care, as long as the silence didn't return. "Do you know how I can do that?"

The Catalyst faced her again, and his lips twitched back in a quiet smile.

"Perhaps." Perhaps wasn't a yes, but it was the best thing she'd heard for a while. Maybe there was hope after all. Maybe the raging battle outside would end, and she would make it back to that warm, tropical place Garrus mentioned so fondly what could have been no longer than a few hours ago. She allowed the spark of hope to lift her spirits, almost smiling, until the Catalyst began again.

"I control the Reapers." Then her heart sank. "They are my solution." The Beacon on Thessia had mentioned the Reapers most likely had someone who told them what to do. Was this it, then? Despair, outrage, a range of emotions she couldn't place all surged through her tired body at once. She didn't know if she could take it. Her legs felt like they'd been replaced with those of a Hanar; not suited to hold her weight any longer. But she couldn't allow herself to show it.

"Your solution to what? What have we done so wrong that you've deemed in necessary to kill everyone?" Her voice grew the dangerous edge it had lacked since losing Earth. The Catalyst sensed her anger, and before she could pull away, their hands were locked again, numbing her mind.

"Chaos." He peered into her face, past the blood and dirt and sweat, into her eyes, locking his on them. "The creation will always rebel against it's creator. But we found a way to stop that from happening."

Was rebellion a good thing? The numbing effect was doing little good for her judgement. Their rebellion was for a good cause. To protect their way of life, the ones they called their friends and family. "We found a way to restore order for the next cycle." Was it really for the better?

Had the Catalyst not preserved them from extermination when they wiped out the Protheans? Javik himself had explained when the time was right, they would be forced into the Prothean empire or left to face the galaxy alone, but...

"Why wipe out organic life?" Why do it again and again, always to help the next cycle, but destroying them later on?

"We don't wipe them out. We harvest the advanced civilizations." The Catalyst tugged her hand gently, leading her after him before loosening his grip. The numb tingle in her brain didn't disappear like before. "We leave the younger ones alone, to flourish on the bounties of an unspoiled galaxy, just as we left your people the last time we were here."

Shepard shook her head, feeling the throbbing headache return, mixing with the numbness. "But you killed the rest... Who are you to decide when a species is ready for extinction?"

"You aren't listening. We don't destroy." The Catalyst stopped short, and shifted his head back over his shoulder to send Shepard a glare of annoyance, which vanished almost as soon as it came about. "We harvest the old life, and store them in Reaper form to make room for the new life to begin."

"I think we'd rather keep our own form," Shepard hissed, eyes narrowing. "You don't know what would happen if you allowed us to live past our cycle, do you?" The Catalyst didn't answer. He set a strong pace around the machine again, causing Shepard to run after him, though she slowed down immediately when the first few steps nearly caused her to fall. The strain was enough to tug at some of her other wounds, including a deep cut stretching across her stomach. Biting back a grunt of pain, she used her left arm to hold pressure over the injury and followed at a much more reasonable pace.

"You... Never answered my question..." She forced through clenched teeth, almost wishing he'd reach out and relieve her of the pain again. But this time she would be wary about his touch, knowing now how he fogged her mind.

"I don't have to see it to know. Synthetics are a part of your life. But as I said, the creation has the tendency to fight the creator. Without the cycle, Synthetics would destroy all life. That is why we have created the Solution. Your Quarians, for example, were nearly wiped out by their own Synthetics. If we were to leave this cycle alone, they would continue on their path of destruction and destroy all means of life in the galaxy."

"If you hadn't noticed," Shepard flicked her eyes briefly out the window, catching both Geth and Quarian fighters, "the Quarians and the Geth have made peace."

"It will not last." The Catalyst replied immediately. He reached for her again, but she stumbled back, keeping a safe distance.

"Who's to say? No one will ever know... You're taking away our future, and even if you promise to preserve the new life, you've already taken their future as well. Not one species in this galaxy has a chance. Without a future there's no hope. And without hope..." She trailed off, uncertain. "We may as well be machines, programmed to perform one function until the next model comes out."

The Catalyst was silent for a moment. Now she felt more aware, and the Catalyst was silent, she was able to examine the machine even closer, There were two platforms, both seemingly unreachable. One was showered in red sparks, and the other bathed in a cool blue light. There was a strip in between that led to the beam that travelled from the floor and out of the ceiling.

"You're the first organic to set foot in this room. The fact you are standing here proves you have more hope than others." His voice made her jump. He continued without pause. "But you have also proved that my solution won't work any more."

Shepard perked up slightly. Would he call off the attack, and let them live? Would she return to an Earth free of Reapers, back to her friends, and back to Garrus? She waited eagerly for the Catalyst to continue, hope once again rising up.

"What will we do now?" Her voice masked her excitement, but inside, she was hoping he would agree to let her cycle continue living.

"We find a new solution." He turned towards the strip leading to the depths of the machine. "The Crucible changed me. Created new... possibilities. But I can't make them happen."

She had a feeling, by the way the Catalyst now held her gaze, that she was to make a choice. Swallowing what moisture was left in her parchment dry mouth, she nodded.

His gaze left hers and reached the platform in red. "I know you've thought of destroying us. You could wipe out all synthetic life if you want. That includes the Geth. And even you; your cybernetics make you partly Synthetic."

Shepard thought immediately of EDI, and then of the Geth. Could she harm them to destroy the Reapers? She would sacrifice herself in a heartbeat, but not so many of her allies. And then Garrus himself had cybernetic implants up the right half of his face. What would happen to him?

"And the Mass Relays would be destroyed in the process."

She thought back to the reason she was on trial months ago, for destroying the Mass Relay and killing everyone in the system. If she destroyed all the relays at once, all life would be gone, wouldn't it?

"But the Reapers would be destroyed?"

"Yes... But the peace won't last. Soon your children will build more synthetics, and they will destroy them."

Shepard stared into the palm of her right hand, tracing the scared lines with her eyes. She'd killed so many before. Not everyone was the enemy, either. Could she bring herself to use her hands to murder innocents again? Could she risk the threat of galactic extinction with the destruction of the Mass Relays?

"You have doubts." The Catalyst pointed out. "There is still a second option, however." The Catalyst explained. "Do you think you can control us?"

Shepard looked up, and eyed the blue platform. The image of the Illusive Man and his deteriorating mentality reaching for the controls came to mind. She would be like him, wouldn't she? If she took control, she would do exactly as he wanted to do from the start. And if she took absolute power, she knew that always in the past, power lead to corruption.

"They're too strong, I... I tried, Shepard."

And then it hit her. She stared at the Catalyst in shock, not registering anything else he said about the second option. The Illusive Man had been there before the Catalyst was ready to fire, true, but could he have been in the same place as she was? Is this how he chose indoctrination, by merging his body with the Reaper consciousness?

"There is one last choice you could make. Synthesis. By adding your energy to the Crucible, the final evolutionary stage of organic life will be achieved, and there will be peace."

Saren, back on the Presidium Tower... the last image she had of him was his internal struggle with his synthetic implants, fighting Sovereign's control over him. His vision of synthesis had led to his own death.

"The implants... Sovereign is too strong, Shepard... You don't understand, but I have to do this..."

Her options were all in the Reaper's favour. Destroy them, and probably take all organic life with them. Control them, and become indoctrinated, like the Illusive Man. Merge with them, and again, become indoctrinated, just like Saren.

"What will you choose, Commander?"

She suddenly felt tired, like laying down, and resting, despite the raging fight just in her sights outside the Citadel. A chuckle escaped her, and her legs finally did fail her. She didn't complain when she landed hard on her injured knees, or panic when she brought up her right arm, soaked with too much of her blood to cover her face.

"My choice..." She trailed off, tilting her head back and sliding her eyes shut. "My choice is to stay here and wait to die."

"What?" The Catalyst was taken aback, and then a rage took over his small form. The powerful biotic pulse she could already feel increased with his anger. "You can't do that! You MUST make a choice!"

"The way I see it, my only choice is indoctrination, or annihilation. I choose neither." Shepard eased her legs from beneath her and stretched them out, hissing at the sting, and then assessed the heavy trail of blood that had followed her. She should have passed out by now, should have died. Something was keeping her alive, but she didn't know what. Maybe the Catalyst was influencing her life force.

"Then you will watch your cycle fall! Your home, your family, everything you fight for!" A stab of pain flashed through her skull and images lingered fresh in her mind. Her team, her entire family of mismatched species all broken and bloodied on the ground miles below. Even Javik, the Prothean jerk she'd come to care for as a part of her team was there, when he'd handed her the memory shard. Was it still there? She reached into her pocket and wound her fingers around it, assured of its safety, and wondered how the owner was faring. It was painful to see them, dead, because she dragged them into this mess.

Well, all save for Zaeed; she knew for a fact he was down there alive and kicking, probably bashing a Reaper's face in with a rock. He was the one person she couldn't see dying, and the image brought a smile to her face.

"So many of them are dead already. If you make the choice now, think of how many you would save." She thought about it. Was he right? How many of her team mates had died to get her here, to make this choice? She thought for a moment, the images of her team still flickering on and off in her mind. Oddly, that image of Zaeed refused to let her give in. If there was a chance even one of her team was alive, she couldn't give up.

"No..." Shepard was resolute in her decision. She would not sway, and make a choice that would give the Reapers exactly what they wanted. Her eyes snapped open and she unclipped her Paladin, activating her barrier. Time seemed to slow down. She'd reacted just in time to avoid a powerful warp, dripping with hatred and anger. With an angry yell, she was on her feet and already unloaded all six shots into the powerful figure of the Catalyst, and when the weapon slipped trying to reload, she changed tactics to her biotics.

The impact of her warp field knocked the Catalyst back, and something strange happened. She felt the flicker before she saw it, or registered what she'd seen, and took it as a sign to keep moving. She yelled with each throw, warp, and reave she tossed on the Catalyst, ignoring her splitting head pain, and the trickle of blood oozing out of her ears and nose. Each impact sent her back to the dark room with the control panel. She saw Anderson, crumpled in a heap on the floor. She saw the Illusive Man, cold and dead on the ground. She saw the control panel, waiting for her orders to set off the Crucible and end the war. She saw the ground, just outside the Conduit, where she'd been knocked out originally.

"You can't do this! How are you doing this?" The Catalyst shrieked, fighting back with his own powerful biotics. The more enraged he grew, the harder it was to keep the form of the child from the vent. His voice revealed she was correct, and Harbinger had wormed his way into her mind. The shape he took flickered to that of a collector, and then to a scaled down holo of his Reaper form, before back to the child again. His attacks now flew through her body, not touching her. He couldn't influence her, he couldn't kill her, or change her, as he did to the Illusive Man, or as Sovereign did to Saren.

She channelled all her power into a final warp field, and the the impact was blinding. A dazzling white light filled the room and she awoke with a scream of pain. A hand pushed down on her chest, forcing her to lie back. Tears sprung to her eyes as the agony rippled across her body in wave after wave. She couldn't see what was happening for a few terrifying seconds, but was aware of someone calling her name.