Angelus De La Luna

Consciousness came back to Emily reluctantly, as though it was unsure whether she wanted it or not. Sleep was always something she considered a luxury item these days. These past few years sleep was always something that stopped coming naturally to her. She was only lucky she didn't require drugs to sleep…most of the time. It was bad enough to be plagued by memories of her lost family, killed by the slavers, the faces of the people she could not protect, but then there were always other nights where she dreamed of other things, the Prothean vision, Skyllian Blitz and the horrors of the Batarians, or more recently, the Collectors.

Indeed, sleep was a luxury that was quickly becoming expensive to afford. Her quarters were still dark as she slowly sat up in bed, the white linen sheet draped across her half-clothed form. Her red bangs hung over her face a touch as she sat in the darkness, the quiet hum of the ship the only sound besides her breathing. She sat in the dark for a while. The lights on the aquarium were dim, but she knew even the fish were sleeping. She slowly pulled herself up from the soft, white sheets, to a mostly upright position, her back pressed to the pillows. There was a touch of chill in her room. She liked it that way, the cold made it easier to sleep…when she could sleep. Whenever she had someone come up to her quarters, they'd often remark about how cold her quarters were compared to the rest of the ship. Of course, most of the crew wore the short-sleeved Cerberus uniform.

It hadn't started out bad for her. Memories of Mindoir and the Blitz were rather low on the nightmare priority list for her. Mostly she dreamed of more recent events. Well, "recent" was relative for her. She had spent two years in a state of unconsciousness; mostly dead. For her though, those two years passed in a flash. Memories that should've started to decay were still fresh in her mind. X57, Virmire, the Citadel, it all felt so new to her, as though she'd just woken up from a nap. However, the rest of the galaxy had simply marched on without her. She remembered the story of Rip Van Winkle, and figured that she had a good idea how he felt right about now. Still, she needed sleep. Not that she particularly wanted it. She was as fickle to accept it, as it was coming to her. Sleeping meant dreaming, and dreaming meant waking up from those dreams, often in cold sweats or tears. But without it, she'd never be able to keep working, keep fighting.

She looked over at her holo-clock on the small nightstand next to her bed. 0310 hours. 3:10 in the morning. "Damn it." She cursed, barely a whisper. Always the wee hours of the morning for her. It seemed her dreams conspired to ruin her schedule too. Not that it mattered. No one questioned her sleeping habits. She tugged the sheets around her a bit tighter. One dream stacked atop another. She slowly sank back down onto the mattress, tightening her hands other the sheets. At least her bed was pleasantly warm…if a bit empty.

***

"Hey mom?"

"Yes Emily?"

"Is it alright if I go out for a bit?"

"Where are you going?"

"Just out."

"Emily…"

"What?!"

"…Alright, just be back before dinner, alright? You're not getting out of cooking duty this time, you hear!"

"Yes mom!" She was out the door before she could hear her mother sigh and shake her head, turning to her husband.

"What am I going to do with her, Alex? She's always so out of control."

Her father merely shrugged her shoulders. "She takes after her mother, Hannah. Remember when we first met?" She hadn't heard them say that, but she knew they spoke of such things before, so she imagined it was what they said. It was also the last thing she ever heard her mother say. She wanted to think her mother and her father's last words were pleasant ones. Because she could not comprehend their last moments occurring any other way.

Mindoir was a pleasant place to live, if one enjoyed peace and solitude. A small farming colony out on the Attican Traverse. Not quite as lovely or as pleasant as Eden Prime, but for Emily, it was home. Or rather, it was. Past tense. When she had remembered it, Mindoir no longer existed. Or rather, her memory of its old glory no longer existed for her. It was empty and gone. She hadn't intended to disobey her mother when she had gone out. She was, in fact, heading down to the river in order to get some local flowers. Her mother's birthday was coming up soon.

At times, she wondered if leaving had been the right thing to do. Could she have done something for her parents, if she'd been there? Regardless, she watched herself, humming a tune as she walked over a hill and downward towards the rushing water. She was so pretty back then…before the raid…before the Blitz. If she'd known how many levels of hell she would have to endure, would she have tried to stop herself? Maybe, it was impossible to tell anymore. She watched herself bending down, squatting down to pick the flowers. She knew what was coming.

Even as she watched, she heard the subtle thud. At the time, she'd not recognized the sound, but the observer Emily knew the sound. Explosives. Young Emily looked up wondered why there was smoke in the sky. Fire? Did something malfunction? Jason was always screwing with the machinery. Only this time, the thud sound came again, only louder, like a pulse. She stood up, turning to look over her shoulder. That wasn't machinery smoke, it was too thick, and the smell was too pungent. She watched herself drop the flowers, and start running up the hill. But she knew what she would find. She watched herself slowly come over the hill, struggling to mount the crest, only to find that-

***

Breakfast was taken in the mess for once. It was a rare thing for her to do. Most of the time she was so busy up in her quarters, or just waking up too late, that she had her meals delivered to her quarters. It was rarer still that she was up so early as well. 3 hours of uninterrupted sleep was like a boon to her. Of course, any of the crew would've been happy to be the errand boy…or girl. After all, she was Commander Shepard, Hero of the Blitz, and Savior of the Citadel. She stood up for what was right and just in the galaxy, she kept an open-door policy with the crew, and made it clear that she accepted, even wanted, people to come forward to her if there were issues. She was the kind of leader a lot of soldiers probably wished they could've had.

Still, it was with a sullen expression that she sipped her coffee that morning. The mess was quiet, since she was up long before the others were. As Chef Gardner wasn't quite up yet, she made herself some coffee, and sat down at the table. It was quiet, and the ship was empty. Emily absently recalled once, on the old Normandy, that Tali had told her once about how the ship felt "half-empty." Emily began to believe she understood what her Quarian friend meant. It did feel as though half the crew was missing. But the silence was also pleasant for her, in a way. She could almost hear herself think. Her coffee was blacker than usual, but she needed the bitterness to keep her awake. After all, she needed to be at full attention when the time came for her to get back the duty of saving the galaxy.

Such a thankless job that was. Were it not for her upbringing, she would've spat in the Council's face. Their thinly-veiled offer of Spectre status didn't do much to help her mood. Amazing that, as soon as she was dead, they were quick to shut down her outspoken warnings about the Reapers, and the call-to-arms. Even the Alliance was quick to brush her off, if the hearsay of her engineers was any indication. Still, she wasn't going to quit, no matter how distasteful it felt to her. After all, her parents had raised her to be respectful to all people, and the Alliance had taught her that the galaxy was a lot bigger than the night sky in her own backyard.

It was horribly tempting though. To falter, to stray, to deviate from her morals, to let herself take the short, quick, and easy route. She'd done that a few times, since her reconstruction. Killing the engineer working on the gunship during the Archangel recruitment mission. She remembered how easy it had been to kill him. She'd rationalized it as "a necessary action to ensure mission success" in her report, but all the same, killing him in cold blood like that left a bad taste in her mouth. She had convinced herself that, here in the Terminus Systems, she'd have to be willing to wobble from the straight and narrow every once in a while. She had just hoped it wouldn't feel so…casual. But then again, she was working with Cerberus, so she was already wobbling by quite a fair margin.

Her coffee was gone now, and she only noticed when she raised the cup to her lips, and found nothing to swallow. She frowned. Strange, had she been sipping it this whole time that she'd been contemplating her own morality? She sighed and looked over at the pot sitting on the counter. It would take a great deal of effort to go over there and pour a new cup. More effort than she felt like expending at the moment.

"Commander? Commander, are you alright?" Came a voice, and she started, almost dropping the empty mug. It was one of the crew. The name wasn't familiar, but the voice was. He often spent time in the Crew Quarters, talking about the family he had on New Canton. "Are you alright Commander Shepard?" He asked again, a hand resting on her shoulder. "You look like shit.

"I…uhh…" She stopped for a moment. "I'm alr-" She cut herself off suddenly, and shook her head. "Not really, but don't worry, just not one those days for me."

"…Are you sure, Commander?"

"Hm? Yes. I think I'll get better as I wake up more. Don't worry about me crewman. You have your family to worry about. Don't want to add to your burden by adding my well-being in there." She said, smiling.

"Commander, we're all worried about you. We know this isn't an easy mission for you, and that there's a lot riding on you. We just want you to know that we appreciate the effort you're putting in for us." He said, and she felt her cheeks heat up a bit. She remembered hearing this on the old Normandy too. Everyone was always telling her how they enjoyed working under her. Even before she was assigned to the Normandy, her old units said the same thing. She never considered herself a particularly effective leader, but she was popular.

"Thank you crewman, that means a lot. I just think I need to try to get more sleep though."

"Oh. You should see the doctor if you're having a problem sleeping Commander. You need all your strength for the mission, you know."

"Yeah…I know. Don't worry yourself about me, crewman. I think I'm going to be okay." She saw him smile, watched him start moving away. "I think so anyway." She murmured once he was away from her. She didn't want him to hear her own doubts in her mind. She looked down at her empty cup. She didn't have the time for another cup. But then…a thought occurred to her. She slowly got up from the table. A break from the action. She didn't feel as though she had the energy to work non-stop, and if she didn't take a breather, she'd wind up a sad, broken wreck. She set her mug on the counter and made her way back to the elevator. She pressed the button that would take her back up to her quarters. She'd call Miranda when she got there. She didn't feel up to anything today. 3 hours was simply not enough for her. She was through her door and flopped herself down at her desk with a loud sigh. She reached over slowly, and pressed a button on the comm. "Miranda?"

"Yes Commander?"

"…Don't worry about any operational reports for today; we're not doing any missions for the time being."

"Commander, it's not usually my place to question your orders but-"

"Then don't, Miranda. We've been working non-stop for past several days. The crew needs some kind of break. If all we do is grind ourselves down each day without any kind of reprieve, then we will all crack."

"…If you're sure Commander."

"Yes, I am sure Miranda. Also, I'm going to be indisposed for the next several hours. So please inform the rest of the crew that I can't be bothered. Alright?"

"Yes, of course Commander." The comm went dead, and Emily slouched back in her chair, letting out a long breath. Well, that was easier than she thought. She half-expected Miranda to put up a bit more of a fight to the idea of taking a day off. Of course, the Illusive Man would likely not be too pleased. But then it was her ship, and her crew. Slowly, she pushed herself up from her chair and slowly dragged herself over to her bed, and let herself just fall against it, landing with a flop. No sooner than her head hit the pillow, then as lassitude set in, and her eyes slid closed.

***

When she clutched the sniper rifle close to her chest, it made her feel safer, even a little. The whole defense was a mess. The batarians and the pirates were overrunning most, if not all their positions. Most of Elysium was in flames, or at least, the parts she had seen. At this rate…the survivors would not be able to hold out. She and her small squad were working to reinforce the bunker where a good chunk of the colonists had taken shelter. Emily had no idea where the other pockets of survivors were, or even if there were any others. They didn't have the time to try and find out. She instinctively hefted her rifle, checking. Training as an infiltrator had paid off, with her squad watching her back; they had speared a way through enemy lines. But now…

"Alright, huddle!" She yelled, and the 6 or so men she had with her came around her. "We've got at least another 3 or 4 hours before reinforcements arrive. If we just try to hold this position, they're overrun us or wear us down and slaughter us!"

"What're your suggestions, Commander?" Ridley asked her. He was an Engineer, of the best with tech she'd worked with in a long time. He couldn't be much older than his 20s as well.

"…We can't afford to divert too much of our attention away from the enemy, so we need a few people to go out and divert their attention for us-"

"Alright! Scott, Barb, you guys and me, we'll draw them away while-"

"No." That caused every head to turn towards her. "We can't afford to split up. If we spread ourselves too thin, they'll just smash right through us."

"But then how are we going to-?!"

"I'm going."

"…Wait, what you- Commander, are no!" It became quite clear what she was planning, as she started to stand, checking her firing action. "You can't hold them back all by yourself! You'll get yourself killed!"

"I don't have a choice Ridley. This bunker needs all the defense it can get. You have to keep the turrets in working order, and you'll need the others to watch your back. Besides, you know as well as I do that I'm good at this sort of thing. It's why I'm an infiltrator. And a damn good one too."

"Commander, those were only in a few training exercises and against small squads! We're talking about entire enemy platoons here! They will kill you! Not to mention this goes completely against protocol!"

"I know, and I'm normally all for it. But the slavers and pirates don't care about protocol or regulations. Besides, I'm very good when it comes to urban warfare. They won't see me coming." She cocked the gun, even as she adjusted her helmet.

"Commander, don't do this! Aki, you go with the Commander-"

She didn't have time for this; she grabbed him by the collar and yanked him roughly towards her. "I'm giving you all a direct order! You're all going to bunker here, and hold this position. No matter what happens! You don't move from this spot!"

"Forgive me ma'am, but to hell with your orders! We're not going to sit here and watch you commit suicide!"

She checked her helmet, doing everything she could to keep a straight face. She would not show any sign that she was hesitating. "Ridley…if not a direct order…" She took a deep breath. "Then please, let me do this."

"But…but why?!"

"Because I need to. And besides, you guys are still young, you still have all your careers ahead of you. You're not throwing your lives away over these pirates."

"What about you though?!"

"Me? This, Ridley. This is personal. They took my parents, my home, everything I had away from me. So, at least today, I'm going to take something away from them. Their lives." She cocked the shotgun. A pointless gesture, but the effect was all she was going for. "So please, let me do this." She said, staring at them. "If I can hold them off for even an hour, that gives you time to fortify this position, and enough time to hold them until reinforcements arrive. I'm not going to let more people die. They took my family, my friends, and my home from me. Well, they don't get to take anything anymore. This ends now." She said, and coming up, she vaulted over her cover. "This never gets to happen ever again!"

***

Her eyes came open. She was laying on her stomach, her cheek pressed against the pillow. Her fingers were clenching the sheets. Her entire being was tense, as though she were preparing for an attack. Her breath was coming a bit faster and shorter. There was this feeling of tension, as though she was there, the sound of gunfire and screams, the smell of smoke and ashes and burning flesh, her blood pounding in her ears like the beat of some damnable drum. She was short of breath, she couldn't concentrate, her fingers dragging over the sheets to clench into fists, she was-

"Commander?" Came a familiar, masculine voice, the flanging effect a dead giveaway as to the owner. Unfortunately, his voice shattering the silence made her entire body flinch, almost to the point of a spasm. To her relief, Garrus didn't comment or say anything to her when she did that, even as she bit back a scream. She didn't look at him though, she just laid there, even as the muscles in her shoulders twitched, trying to force herself to relax.

"Yes Garrus?" She mumbled, not moving from where she lay. "I thought I gave Miranda explicit orders that I wasn't-"

"She did. I'm disobeying her orders."

"…I hope you have a damn good reason for it, Garrus. Because right now I'm not in the best mood." She mumbled, not bothering to move.

"Well, for one thing Commander, I personally don't listen to Operative Lawson half the time she talks. She's not exactly good at giving rousing speeches or orders." That made Emily smile a bit. "Also, I was worried about you. You're constantly checking up on me, I figured I should return the favor. Besides, you didn't bother to lock the door."

"Should I do that the next time?"

"Depends. Would give me a chance to see if my decryption skills are still sharp. Or I might just Overload the door if you'd like it done quick and dirty…wait." He said, pausing halfway through his sentence. "Never mind, that didn't come out right."

Emily slowly rolled herself over onto her back, staring up and across the room. Garrus stood at the head of the stairs, in his civvies. The outfit looked so odd on him. In his armor, he appeared much taller and larger, almost as imposing as Grunt at times. Without it, he was…no, diminished was not the right word for it. He wasn't quite as intimidating or as…imposing? Not that she minded it much; the scared and wrecked armor gave him the look of a survivor. He'd insisted on keeping the scars, though. Made him look more rugged. "Well…now that you're here, now what?" She asked with a smile. "I don't usually entertain guests up here."

"Well, for one thing, you could turn up the temperature in here. Unless you're trying to emulate Lawson's ice-queen status, I don't think you want to freeze, do you?"

She couldn't help it as her lips came up in a smirk. "What can I say, I like it cold. Helps me sleep…" She said with a shrug of her shoulders.

"Really? From the way you were twitching in your sleep, it didn't look much like sleep to me, Commander."

Unfortunately, that particular choice of words made her freeze up. "How long have you been watching me?"

"Long enough to know that you're up roaming the ship during the graveyard hours."

"You're a light sleeper, aren't you?"

"Sort of. Military life and long C-Sec shifts means I'm use to sleeping for just a few hours…but not like what you've been doing the past few nights, Commander."

She shifted her gaze to the ceiling overhead, that way she didn't have to look straight at him anymore. "Am I that obvious?"

"You did the same thing back on the old Normandy."

She couldn't help but laugh at that. "Ouch, wow. That obvious, huh?"

"That obvious, Commander."

"Well shit." She said, though the expletive didn't carry much weight. She slowly relaxed herself, almost forcibly. "I guess if it's that obvious, it must be a problem." Garrus stepped lightly down the stairs, sitting himself on the couch.

"Is it the Prothean vision again?"

"Mindoir and the Blitz this time. First time in…well, forever since I had those dreams." She slowly brushed her fingers through her auburn hair, brushing it back over her ears. "Although the last time I had a dreamless sleep was not in forever either." She let herself trail off. He was still sitting there. "You know Garrus, if it's too cold or something; you don't have to stick around. You're not obligated to sit here and listen to me ramble or sit here in awkward silence." She said.

"It's not a problem, Commander. I'm just concerned about you."

She chuckled, closing her eyes and shaking her head. "I wasn't aware I had a guardian angel now." She looked up at him, corner of her lip curled upward.

She didn't know turians could roll their eyes, but Garrus proved the gesture wasn't limited to merely humans. "You're never going to let that whole 'Archangel' nickname drop are you?"

"No, probably not." She said, laughing again. She ended her laughter with a relieved sigh. "But really Garrus, thank you. For disobeying my orders. It's nice to know that you're concerned."

"It's nothing Commander, you and I have worked together a long time. Besides, ever since Alenko…" Garrus stopped himself from continuing, trailing off. Suddenly the tension in the air became palpable. Emily found herself looking to the side, at the aquarium. She'd need to feed the fish soon. "I'm sorry Commander." He said his voice much softer and apologetic. "I didn't mean to-"

"Don't apologize Garrus…it's been two years for you and everyone else. I…I can't expect that everyone thinks about that all the time anymore. Even if it still feels like just a few weeks ago." She said, also quietly. "Did you hear though? They started a scholarship fund in his name for biotic kids to get into the Ascension Project. So they don't have to do through the training from hell that he got."

"I heard. I think he would've been happy to hear about that." The silence was incredibly awkward right now. "Anyway, you seem to be doing okay, so I should get back to calibrating the new gun. If I don't, the engineers are going to screw up the feed again."

You don't have to. She thought to herself, absently. "Alright. Could you tell Gardner that I'd like my meal delivered up to my room, if it's not too much trouble?" She said with a weak smile. If you'd bring it, I'd like that. Was the unspoken portion of that request.

"Sure thing Commander." He said as he stood up, dusting himself off a bit. She watched him as he turned and left through the door, as the mechanism closed with a hiss. Garrus was her friend, one of her closest friends. He had been there for quite a bit of her battles. She closed her eyes once again, and recalled the one that stood out most vividly in her mind…