A/N Takes place shortly before the end of Never Too Late, same 'verse etc.

Nightmares were part of Shepard's life. Even before enlisting it had been a rare night when she didn't dream vividly and her nightmares seemed more frequent than other people's. Still, defeating Saren and realizing the real threat of the Reapers had provided more than ample nightmare fuel.

But these were…different.

Her dreams had always been linear, self-contained stories that may have been mad in the standard lunacy of normal dreams but were consistent and almost never repeated…but not these. After surviving Mindoir her dreams had almost all been nightmares, but she had been fostered and treated for the mental and physical trauma she had survived. She had learned to gain power and strength from knowing her nightmares intimately, had held them close since she was sixteen.

These dreams were surreal, she always knew it was a dream when it was happening but was helpless to enact changes. Things had gotten bad again after the Skyllian Blitz, had, if she were honest, been rough until then as well. She would never admit it but sometimes she wondered if her near-suicide to save the colony had been encouraged by a desire to end the nightmares and serve the Alliance in one fell swoop.

Not that it mattered, she hadn't died, in fact she'd become a hero and saved human and batarian lives.

"Goody." She sighed and rolled on to her side.

The cell was nice all things considered. It was actually slightly larger than her usual billet the handful of times she had been needed in Vancouver for paperwork or promotions. James was good company, loyal and upbeat. She had read the reports on his previous combat actions and was confident he would have her back if needed. But it was still a cell and he was still a guard. Whether he was her body guard or her prison guard was immaterial.

For the thousandth or more time she wondered about Kaidan, what he was doing, if he was okay, if he was still with his Citadel doctor. She had almost moved on herself, gods knew there were plenty of willing and sympathetic offers and overtures. Thane had intrigued and moved her but she couldn't fathom the cruelty of helping him to love her knowing he was going to die even if the rest of the crew and the Normandy survived. And in the end it didn't matter because Kaidan was still out there and until she knew for certain he wasn't her heart was his, whether he wanted it or not. Hell, whether she wanted it or not. Her thoughts drifted back to dreams again.

At first her nightmares had been based on the batarian slaver attack that had wiped out Mindoir and ended her childhood. The blood and chaos, the chains and stun darts. The reek of fresh human blood, burning prefabs, piss and shit and death. Then the nightmares had morphed and she was that same child during the Skyllian Blitz. Her soldiers were dying around her their corpses blocking out the sun. Nowadays there was a steady rotation of the old favorites plus fun new additions like Saren, Harbinger, Sovereign, husks, Heretic Geth, Ashley Williams' accusing glare and dying screams…

Ashley. Her greatest failure. Ash had been loyal, fierce, smart and open to change. There was a dark current of xenophobia among a lot of the Alliance, personnel who had enlisted or been commissioned with the idea of killing aliens not defending humanity. They were two very different goals in Shepard's mind, and Ash had been among that number when they met. To Ash's credit her whole family had just cause to bear a grudge toward the Turians and the Alliance. She was some kind of stubborn to buck the brass and her father's own experience in the Alliance Navy and enlist. She had busted her ass to prove herself time and again only to be rewarded with dead end back water assignments.

"The Williams name can shine again." Shepard sighed sadly.

It had been Shepard's call in the end. She would always wonder if she had really chosen to save Kaidan because he was the best choice or because she loved him. Had she murdered Williams to save Alenko and traded her soul in the bargain? And then… Aratoht.

She didn't hate Batarians as a species that was too impersonal. Everything she had known and loved had been snuffed out by batarian slavers but she had known decent batarians as well as evil ones. Just like humans and every other sentient species she had worked and fought with or against. Shepard's ability to see the batarians who had murdered her colony as individuals and not symptoms of batarian culture or politics – though an argument could be made that they were – had helped Ash to see her way to trusting Garrus and the other non-human Normandy crew members. If her commander could work past the personal violations inflicted on her by aliens then what excuse did Ash have to do less?

"For whatever good it did." Shepard sighed.

Aratoht. She would stand trial for it eventually, unless the Reapers came first. But in the meantime she had caused the deaths of more than 300,000 batarians and their slaves. The pro-batarian media outlets were claiming she was a rogue Spectre working for a pro-human terrorist group and exacting revenge for Mindoir. The pro-human pro-Alliance outlets were claiming Shepard had been trying to stop the attack but failed. The pro-human anti-Council outlets were accusing the Council of ordering Shepard on the mission knowing she was the perfect scapegoat. There were so many angles and so much spin that she half-wondered at her own motives herself from time to time.

One of her first commanders had told her that a good leader doubts their decisions before, during, and after the consequences, an obnoxious truism. Still, in her case at least it had been true.

Her lids were growing heavy and she could no longer prevent sleep, and the nightmares it would bring….