Like any sane person, Joker wanted to avoid feeling guilty as much as possible. Then he realized that the more you try to run away from guilt, the faster it'll chase after you. It had haunted him for the last two years. He'd waking up, drenched in sweat, screaming, "Commander!". He was tormented daily by the vision of Jean Shepard looking at him one last time before pressing that damn button; the sight of her floating in space.
He thought he could make himself feel like crap? It was nothing compared to the blame others put on him. Joker had only gone to one memorial service, the one on Earth. There had been several, but he had only gone to one to know that he was never going to another memorial service again. He hadn't very much fancy wear, so he had worn a pair of black pants and a black t-shirt. He struggled in the mirror with putting gel in his hair for about ten minutes before he realized he didn't care and just left it.
It was grand; there was a large white statue of her. She was posed looking up at the sky, with one hand on the gun on her hip and the other one holding her helmet. Just looking at it made Joker feel like crap. At least the statue wasn't looking towards him. There were already candles, letters, and personal items at the base of the statue. So many flowers. People of different races all gathered to listen to the man and woman standing at the podium.
"My daughter was..." Trista Shepard began, and even from towards the middle of the crowd Joker could see the whites of her knuckles from where she was gripping the stand so tightly. "She was an amazing woman. She was so fierce. So strong. The military had been in our family for generations. It was where I met her father."
Trista looked behind her to lock eyes with her husband. He was standing behind her, his arms behind him. Joker had seen the Commander standing like that so many times; as she listened to her crew, as she talked with her friends, even as she stood behind Joker to watch him fly the Normandy.
"But anyone could see that Jean didn't treat the military as a profession, like I always did. From a young age, we could see that the military was her life." Trista took a deep breath. "She gave her entire existence to her work. She worked harder than anyone I had ever seen. She was dedicated to her work, to her crew."
Trista Shepard's eyes locked onto Joker's, and he froze.
"Jean...she always wanted brothers and sisters," Trista seemed to be talking directly to him. "She remained an only child, but when I saw her on her own ship, when she was introducing me to the crew, and even said to me, 'This is the Normandy.' I could see that she had found her family. That ship was her blood; that crew was her family."
Joker wanted to turn and run away from the memorial. He wanted to get the hell out there. People were turning their heads to look at him, but Trista's eyes kept him locked in place. They were that same pale blue like her daughters.
"And I had a feeling that there was only one way that she would ever go out of this world, and I was right." Trista took another deep breath. "To her last breath, she protected the ones that she loved. She put her crew's safety above her own."
She seemed to lean forward, as if wanting Joker to really understand what she was going to say next.
"She died for her family." She said. Everyone did turn to look at Joker that time, and he was really itching to get the hell out of there. Trista leaned back, let go of the podium, and turned to sit down on one of the seats next to the podium. Her husband stepped up to the podium, and Joker felt a stirring of dread in his stomach.
"A representative of the Citadel Council will now speak." He said, and then he turned away from the podium, letting another woman step up. A grumbling seemed to go through the crowd, and Joker was right along with him. The Council had denied the Reaper claims. Had sent Shepard on wild goose chases to keep her busy. Where the hell did they get off showing up to her service?
An older woman stepped up to the podium, and she walked like she had a giant stick up her ass. Joker rolled his eyes as she began talking about how valiant and honorable Shepard was. Joker was so busy being annoyed with the woman that he nearly missed Shepard's parents standing up from their seats and going to kneel down at Shepard's statue. The Council representative didn't miss this though, and she trailed off for a moment to look behind her at Shepard's parents. When she saw that they were just there, looking as if they were praying, she began speaking again, albeit a bit haltingly.
Then Shepards parents rose to their feet, locked arms, and walked away without another word. Joker had to struggle to keep silent at the representative's expression. Clearly Shepard had inherited her parents fearlessness. That was a silent 'piss off' to the Council.
Since Shepard's parents weren't around, Joker didn't see a reason to stick around either. Others had the same idea. Many stepped up to the statue, leaving flowers and other items. Joker just stood in front of it, looking up at Shepard's expression. Face turned toward the sky, looking like she was ready to kick some ass. How many times had she been on the ground for a mission, and looked at the sky where she knew the Normandy was waiting for her to return? How often had she depended on Joker? She counted on him.
Joker sniffed, holding back. Like hell he was going to cry. Not in front of these people. Not here, not now. He quickly set down his item, his small tribute to Shepard and walked away as fast as he could go, which was admittedly not very fast. .
Yet, almost two years later, he could remember the way that Trista Shepard's eyes bore into his. She died for her family. She died for you.
"My fault. My fault..." Joker would mutter to himself after his nightmares. It became his mantra. He'd see her looking at him as she struggled to hold onto the ship.
My fault.
He'd remember the way he screamed at her as she pressed that damn button.
My fault.
He remembered the glass against his face as he pressed himself against the pod door, looking at her and shouting as she floating in space.
My fault.
The way everyone looked at the memorial service. The grieving faces of her parents.
My god damn fault.
"Shepard's alive, Jeff." That pompous voice of the unrealistically hot chick. He was sitting in her office, her hands crossed on her desk as she looked at him.
"Bullshit." Joker said. Shepard's dead. He saw her die. She got spaced, and there's just no curing that.
"It's true. We salvaged her body and are currently working on reconstructing it." Miranda said, a small smile curling her perfect stupid lips.
"Yeah, and I can run a marathon." Joker said, rolling his eyes.
"If you're willing to work with us, maybe we can arrange that." Miranda said, a notorious twinkle in her eyes. She looked like she was playing with a dog she knew was stupid.
"Yeah, well...wait, what?" Joker said, double taking.
"Obviously, we cannot cure your disease, Mr. Moreau." Miranda said, leaning back in her chair. "But we are currently developing a serum that could lower the severity of it. You wouldn't be able to run marathons, but you will move without aids like braces or a wheelchair."
It took Joker a minute to get past the 'Imagine life without having to put those damned braces on. It'd make things so much easier. No more pitying glances. No more offerings of help. Holy crap.' and instead adopt an uncaring expression.
"So, what, doc, you just handing out cookies for free? What's the catch?" Joker asked. Miranda rose from her chair, circling around to sit in front of her desk.
"It's still in the processing stage. We haven't had a chance to test it on anyone. However, I believe that the benefits outweigh the risks significantly." She said.
"Get to the point." Joker said, gesturing a 'move along' gesture with his hand.
Miranda turned, going to the opposite side of the room, looking at a bulletin board covered in medical charts.
"The Illusive Man has made it very clear that Shepard is to be unchanged in any way," Miranda said. "Her personality needs to be the same, her memories need to be the same, her skills need to be the same. It would be much easier if I were allowed to put a control chip in her."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! You're not bringing a control chip anywhere near her!" Joker said, suddenly outraged. Images of Shepard walking around without any will, killing without feeling remorse. A human machine for Cerberus to use.
"Relax, Moreau. The Illusive Man already said no." Miranda said, though a bit bitterly. "He believes she would operate better if she had her own choice in the matter. If she could make her own decisions."
"I still don't see your point." Joker said.
"She would also adapt better if she knew she had allies. People she could trust." Miranda looked at him pointedly.
"Oh, I get it now. I'm the carrot to convince the donkey to do what you want. Clever." Joker said sarcastically. Miranda scowled at him.
"Let me make this very clear for you, Joker." She said nastily. "I don't need you. Cerberus doesn't need you. We can continue with this operation without you. The Illusive Man is being very generous by offering you a position. You have a choice; you can walk away without a job, without a serum, and you'll never see Shepard again."
Joker opened his mouth to retort, but Miranda raised a hand to silence him and kept going.
"Or, you can join with us. You can work under Shepard's command, get that serum to get you walking, and you'll fly again. Your choice. Sink or swim."
Joker stared at Miranda for a long moment before snorting.
"Hard to argue with that." He muttered.
"I'll draw up the paper work, and send it to your apartment." Miranda said, and if she sounded a little triumphant, then hell with her. It took Joker a moment to stand up, and he was just about to exit the office when Miranda looked up from her computer. "Would you like to see her?"
Joker paused.
"She's...awake?" He asked.
"Oh, no. That won't be for at least three months. We're currently in the process of tissue development." Miranda said. Joker looked at her with a blank expression. "Skin."
"You know what? I think I'll pass." Joker said. "But this was fun, we should do it again some time. I'll call you."
With that, he walked out of the office.