Dream of a Time
Mass Effect. One-Shot. Justine Shepherd (Fem!Shep).
Gunfire. Smoke. Blood. Searing pain.
This was nothing new. This was my life. How often did I suffer a bullet wound to my flesh? How many times had I ripped someone's life away? The struggle never ended. It never would. All I could do was go along with.
"Justine!" Carter snapped, drawing me from my thoughts. Funny how I could block out the screams of death and smell of blood, but not someone yelling for my attention.
He looked impatiently at me. What did he want?
"Shepherd!" growled another. Melinda, I think. "Shepherd, stop spacing out and haul your ass!"
"Haul my ass and do what exactly?!"
My tone would have normally gotten me reprimanded, but I suppose they could not be bothered with calling me out right now. Made sense, given the circumstances we found ourselves in: three of eight left alive after an ambush by a rival gang.
Carter ducked in time to avoid a barrage of bullets and glared at me. "Take out that bastard Thompson! He's got a heavy weapon!"
Why me, I wanted to demand. I didn't. Chances were I'd get my ass beaten for spacing out during an ambush anyways. No need to add fuel to the fire. Still, from a tactical standpoint, it made little sense. I had a pistol and some biotic skills to fall back on. Compared to sniping expert Melinda, I was an irrational choice.
"Right!" I answered, disregarding my disbelief of the decision. I moved to the right of Melinda, edging along slowly and low.
She sneered down at me. "Stupid, useless bitch."
I stared back with an icy calm expression. Not today, not right now. No time to be baited.
I stuck my head out to see the current situation with our enemies. They were spread out with plenty of cover. The ringleader of this ambush, a man by the name of Kent Thompson, stood boldly in the center. His armor and shields, high quality and definitely obtained illicitly, would protect him from anything I threw his way.
What do they expect me to do? I wondered.
Before I could even wrap my mind around the craziness ensuing, I heard a gunshot from just behind me and felt blood soak the back of my clothes. Someone's boot landed painfully along my spine, knocking me out into the open. Bullets pounded the air by my body as I tried weakly to get out of there. One hit me, though. Right in the stomach. Then another in my shoulder. And another in my upper leg.
I hit the ground, stuck in a limbo between fiery pain and chilling numbness.
Carter's voice cheerily called out, "Okay, that damn Shepherd is the last one."
"I thought you convinced Melinda to join up with us?"
"I thought so, too, but I caught her and Marcus talking. Little bitch was going to backstab me with his help. Shoulda known better. Now they're both dead."
My senses darkened as the group dispersed, leaving me bloodied and dying. I wanted to scream at them to finish the job, but my voice was lost to the pain. Damn. How did this happen? Why'd I end up here? Everything was fine before... before...
-DesireUnwritten-
My body jerks with a gasp, tears on my cheeks. I sit up immediately and wipe them away. Shit. That dream, that memory from so long ago... It still finds its way into my head to haunt my subconscious mind.
Someone shifts next to me. I glance over and see Kaidan's dark hair sticking out from beneath the sheets. I sigh and slide closer to him, nuzzling into his shoulder blades. A pang strikes me while I listen to his unconscious breathing: what would he think?
So few people know the true horrors of my life before the Alliance. My crew is absolutely obliviously, for which I am grateful. But, I ponder to myself, would Kaidan think less of me if he knew that part of my life?
We all have dark secrets. Mine, though, I want to stay buried in the past. I don't want anyone—especially Kaidan—to ever know their respectable Commander Shepherd was a no-good, murdering gangbanger. A pathetic waste of human life.
Someone who was dead long before the betrayal of a well-trusted associate.
Disclaimer: Mass Effect belongs to Bioware.
