He was going to die.
He'd survived the shuttle crash, but both legs were broken— his left leg felt like it was broken in at least four or five places— and he had no medi-gel. Predictably, the Harvester that downed him had left him a little present: Waves and waves of husks that had nearly depleted his supply of thermal clips. He'd called for an evac, but doubted they would make it in time for, over the loud roar of the Hades cannon, the spine-numbing scream of a banshee sounded… and was answered by three others. Cortez wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, flinching as a knuckle grazed his split lip. A husk jumped up on the smoldering remains of the Kodiak, and Steve squeezed the trigger on his pistol, sending the creature flying back the way it came with two holes punched neatly in its chest. Grunting, he ejected the glowing hot thermal clip and slammed a fresh one home.
The banshee and its twisted sisters shrieked again. They were getting closer, they would find him, and they would tear him apart. Steve glanced down at his gun. It might be… easier if he ended it himself, but he wouldn't. He would die fighting. Teeth gritted, Steve turned onto his belly and began the slow, painful process of inching forward, propelling himself with his less mangled right leg, trying to get to a more defensible position.
Something cold and wet dribbled onto the back of his head and for a brief moment all those horror vids he'd watched as a kid—all the while stuffing his face with the popcorn and cherry jellybeans he'd mixed together— flashed through Cortez's mind. He pictured hundreds of husks leering down at him from above, hanging from lampposts and clinging to bits of rubble, drooling on him as he crawled, unsuspecting, beneath them. Then a clash of thunder boomed overhead and the rain began to fall in earnest. He chuckled at himself, laughter that died quickly when another banshee sounded its call. Maybe he was trapped in a horror vid after all…
Inch by inch, the pavement slick with blood and water beneath him, Steve crept forward. One of his fingernails broke off with a wet snap and he bit down on a cry of pain, not wanting to alert the banshees to his position. He stopped for a moment, pressing his brow to the cold cement. His right leg throbbed like a rotten tooth. A burst of gunfire rattled in the distance. He raised his head, but the gunfire didn't come again. The shooter had moved on or been killed.
He found a store that had sold trinkets to tourists. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than where he'd started and his strength was waning fast. He couldn't go any further. With a grunt of effort, Steve pulled himself over the threshold. The floor inside was littered with broken commemorative plates, plastic models of Big Ben, bobble-heads of the royal family, dark red spatters of dried blood, and burned debris. Blank holo-cards were scattered everywhere. The overhead lights flickered as though imitating the lightning outside, thunder rattled what was left of the windows, and the Hades cannon made the floor quake beneath him. Steve dragged himself along, oblivious to the broken glass that bit into his flesh, moving in behind the kiosk counter and pausing to rest. A banshee screamed again, closer than before. It wouldn't be long now.
Coughing, hand throbbing and legs screaming, cuts all over his bare arms stinging and bleeding, Cortez forced himself into a sitting position. Back resting against the counter, he checked his thermal clip supply. Two full clips. That's all he had. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to drift a little. He thought of Desmond… and the little crinkle he got at the corners of his eyes—those beautiful, silvery blue eyes—when he smiled. Steve hoped Shepard was faring better than he.
The crackle of glass beneath a heavy foot brought Steve back into reality. He glanced around the counter to see a husk advancing on him. He brought his gun up, squeezing the trigger. The first shot missed, the second and third ripped through the husk's throat. The husk fell backward, dark liquid spurting from the hole in its neck, clearing Steve's line of sight and revealing a banshee standing outside, not even twenty feet away. The creature locked eyes with him for the briefest of moments, jaw unhinging as it unleashed its chilling cry. A wave of husks rose up from the rubble, surging toward the store. Steve prepared to sell his life as dearly as possible.
It all became a blur: Husk after husk storming in through the windows, the doorway, barely dodging a blast of dark energy that would've obliterated him. A husk sank its teeth into his shoulder and he slammed his pistol into its face, breaking its nose with a meaty crunch. Another husk landed on his back, smashing his face against the kiosk counter, spidering the glass and cutting his cheek. Cortez shot wildly, grazing his ear, but the husk was knocked free. A banshee was in the doorway, reaching for him. The second banshee and more husks were coming up behind it. Cortez emptied his last two bullets into the nearest banshee's chest, and it didn't even stagger.
Needle-thin talons, ready to pierce his flesh, were inches away from his throat when the hairs on Cortez's arms suddenly stood on end and a massive wave of dark energy washed over the store, disintegrating husks where they stood, knocking Steve to the floor behind the counter, and slamming the banshee into the wall. With a splintering crash of breaking glass Shepard came sailing through the last intact window in the store; his armor purple instead of silver, wielding an assault rifle and biotics instead of a sword and shield, but a knight nonetheless that had come to Steve's rescue, just like the knights in those "historical romance" vids (of which he watched almost as many as horror vids). There was no time for a romantic reunion, however. Shepard pinned the banshee to the wall with a barrage of gunfire before it could recover, ichor and flesh flew as the creature's face was obliterated. With his free hand Shepard tossed several items over the counter to Steve: another assault rifle, three shots of medi-gel, and a bundle of thermal clips. Steve used two of the three doses of medi-gel and loaded the gun while his various wounds began to heal. Shepard sent a couple of husks flying backward with a biotic push and dove out of sight behind a tangle of burned out debris as the banshee sent a blast of energy his way.
Ignoring the jabbing pains in his healed legs, assault rifle at the ready, Cortez popped up from behind the counter, firing at the banshee outside. Shepard sent four more husks reeling as the third banshee appeared with its own entourage of husks in tow. Spent thermal clips were discarded, dark energy flew in a flurry, husks were launched into the air, and Steve used the last shot of medi-gel when his battered body began to ache.
When the last banshee fell, clawed hand still extended toward its would-be victims, Steve found himself enfolded against Shepard's larger frame. The man had removed his helmet and he kissed Cortez's temple, his cheek, his jaw, burrowed his face against Steve's neck and kissed it too, "Too close. Too goddamn close," he said.
Steve's arms wrapped around Shepard's waist, pulling him closer, silent in agreement. They held each other, listening to the soft patter of rain and the brutal growl of the Hades cannon.
Steve moved back first, fingers tracing along Shepard's jawline. "Not that I'm complaining, but didn't you have a cannon to demo-" A massive roar interrupted him and the rainy night sky suddenly blazed a blinding, poisonous orange. Shepard threw up a biotic barrier around himself and Steve as fiery debris began raining down on the store.
"I figured James and Garrus would enjoy being the ones to blow something up for once." Shepard grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly.
Cortez chuckled, "I bet."
Shepard squeezed Cortez's shoulder, "Are you all right? Do you need more medi-gel?"
A soft smile curved Steve's lips, "No, Des, I'm fine thanks to you."
Shepard nodded, his cheeks pinking slightly, and he brought up his omnitool, "I'm going to divert your evac to Garrus and James's location. It's not far; we'll meet up with them there."
Steve nodded, raised the assault rifle, "Let's go."