I was up to 4am last night editing this chapter so hopefully it has come together okay.

Chapter 3 should be going up next Sunday.


Shepard opened her eyes and let the blue glow from the empty fish tank in her quarters wash over her. The room slowly came into focus and she realised she was lying in bed, uncovered and cold, after having yet another nightmare. Her blankets and pillows were strewn all over the floor and she felt sick to her stomach, but at least she was awake now, back safe and sound on the Normandy and no longer imagining that she was running through miles of burning fields on Mindoir.

She waited for her limbs to stop shaking and then jumped out of the bed, steadying herself by pushing one of her arms up against the wall. Since things had become so confused between her and Garrus, she'd been having nightmares whenever she tried to sleep. It was becoming more than a little unsettling.

After trying to force a few calming breaths into her lungs, Shepard straightened up and then slowly walked over to the nearest control panel so she could turn up the lights in her cabin as bright as they would go. Her eyes stung, but she ignored the sharp pain and started making her bed, returning each and every pillow to its correct place. That made her feel slightly better. She pulled the blankets back over the bed as well, smoothing them down with her hands, and then stepped back so she could admire her handiwork.

Unfortunately once everything was tidy again, Shepard didn't quite know what to do with herself anymore. Although she'd gotten used to not sleeping through the night lately, it was unusual for her to wake up quite this early. There were still hours to go before her shift would start and even though the orange glow of her alarm clock told her it was 3am, she didn't feel at all like going back to bed. She walked around in a circle as she tried to make more sense of her own thoughts, but in the end she just gave up and slumped down into the closest available chair.

From that position, she could see right across the room and the view did nothing to cheer her up. Her quarters were so empty looking, almost completely devoid of any personal touches like ornaments, paintings or plants, despite her living out of them for months now. On her desk, instead of photos of loved ones or even friends and acquaintances to smile out at her, sat only her charred and broken N7 helmet. She'd recovered it months before at the crash site of the original Normandy, picking it up from where it had been laying in the rubble and ash for two years after she...well after she had died.

Shepard grimaced, it was probably best not to think about that too much right now, or ever.

A sudden desire to move came over her and she gave into it, striding away from her bed and up towards her hamster's cage at the other end of the loft. She'd once read in some awful self-help book that holding an animal was supposed to have a comforting effect on humans and, well, it was worth a try. As she got closer to the cage, she saw that the hamster, which she hadn't bothered to name yet, was sitting beside his wheel and nibbling on a carrot, but when she tried to reach for him, he darted towards the safety of his nest.

Shepard immediately abandoned her attempt to pick him up; it wasn't worth the effort. Originally, she'd had fish as well as the bloody hamster and she really missed them right at that moment. It had been so calming to watch them swimming about under the glass, seemingly oblivious to everything on the outside, even to her. Sadly though, she'd eventually started to forget to feed them for days at a time. After a particularly annoying mission killing husks, she'd returned to her quarters and found they were all dead, floating aimlessly on the top of the water. She'd never replaced them and the tank had been empty for weeks now.

Feeling restless again, despite how tired she really was, Shepard turned on her heel, away from the cage, and then started pacing around her quarters. She covered the same path over and over again with her feet, until, finally, she saw it: an unopened wine bottle, lying under her sofa. She felt a terrible jolt in her stomach when she realised the significance of what she was looking at.

It was the bottle of wine Garrus had brought with him when he'd come up to her quarters before they hit the collector base. Shepard had thought it was such a sweet gesture, but she'd decided that the little time they had left before throwing themselves into hell for the good of the galaxy, as he had once so eloquently put it, was best spent on pursuits other than drinking. She'd taken the wine out of his hands, set it to one side and it had been quickly forgotten by the both of them. Now she was staring right at it again, a week later.

Shepard stood still for a moment, before walking over to the bottle and picking it up. She rotated it in her hands, examining its smooth design as the liquid swirled within the confines of the glass. She ran her hands across the surface of the bottle one last time, caressing it gently, and then flung it to the floor so she could watch it smash and splinter.

Now she had to get out of the room for a few minutes, if she didn't, she was afraid she might break down. She'd leave, get some air and then come back completely calm again and clean up the mess she'd just made.

She got as far as the hall before realising that she was only wearing an old t-shirt and her underwear. If she hadn't been sure she was losing it before, then she was now. She didn't even want to think what would have happened if someone like Jack or Joker had come across her in that state.

She ran back down to her sleeping area and pulled on some shorts, along with a pair of flat shoes. Figuring she could just about pass as decently dressed, she clambered into the elevator and decided to head up to the mess hall to get something to eat. Preferably something terribly indulgent and fattening.


Deck three seemed to be deserted; only the Normandy's usual quiet hum was there to greet Shepard as she stepped out of the elevator and started to move through the empty corridor. Her footsteps echoed off the walls until she reached the kitchen area and began to rummage through the through all the cupboards, the fridge and the freezer.

She turned around a couple of minutes later, arms completely laden with food, top hitched up around her waist, and came face to face with Garrus. She almost dropped everything when she saw him.

He was sitting at the table in the mess hall, surrounded by parts from his sniper rifle, with his gloves off. She'd only seen his bare hands like this once before. Her face immediately turned red at the memory.

"Hey, Shepard," Garrus said, doing a good impression of nonchalance, although Shepard noticed he didn't quite manage to stop his mandibles from flaring when he saw how little she was wearing.

"Hey, yourself," she replied and then almost dropped the food again as Garrus gestured for her to join him.

Shepard realised she now had two very simple options to choose from. Either she could run away or she could try to have a normal conversation with him, like he clearly wanted her to do. Given the mood she was in, the first option was far, far more attractive to her, but she didn't want to hurt him. She'd already developed a terrible habit of doing that lately. Besides, they were still supposed to be good friends, right?

She shuffled over to Garrus, still carrying enough food to feed several people, and sat down opposite him. He quirked a brow ridge as she dropped her hoard onto the table and some of it ended up falling on top of his rifle parts.

"Sorry," she said as she tried to separate their things.

"Don't worry about it," he said, "I guess you must be a little hungry then, Shepard?"

"Yeah, more than a little though."

To illustrate her point, and give herself a great excuse not to talk for a while, she opened a container of chocolate ice cream and began to dig a spoon into it. She hoped they could maybe sit in silence for a few minutes while she got used to just being around him again. Before they'd gone through the relay, she'd spent a little time during most evenings hanging about wherever he was, but things were very different now.

Unfortunately, it didn't take long for Garrus to speak again.

"What's that?" he asked, poking one of his talons towards the container.

"Chocolate ice cream, Garrus," Shepard replied when her mouth was empty. "I picked some up the last time we were on the Citadel and hid it in the freezer as my own private stash. It's not exactly a delicacy though; you must have seen humans eat it before."

"Yeah, but I didn't know what it was called. It looks slimy." He seemed determined to keep the conversation going, although his eye contact with her wasn't great.

"I guess it is a little, but its tastes nice," Shepard said, "Although with that whole dextro-levo thing you probably shouldn't try it yourself. Do you want something else to eat? I could bring it over to you since you're a little surrounded by all those rifle parts."

"No, I'm okay. Thanks, though."

Shepard noticed Garrus was still looking at her ice cream, rather than directly at her. He stared at it for a few seconds and then poked an outstretched talon right into the centre of it.

"Cold," he mumbled, rubbing it between two of his talons.

Despite everything, Shepard couldn't stop herself from smiling at him. "Garrus, I can't believe you just stuck your hand in my food, even Jack has enough manners to know that's not a very polite thing to do. You must be seriously bored."

"I guess I am a bit. I've just been doing some gun maintenance."

"Yeah, I can see that. Is it sanitary to have all those parts spread out on the table everyone eats off? Although judging my how you just stuck your talon into my ice cream, I guess that hygiene's not your main concern tonight."

Garrus chuckled and looked warmly across the table at her. Shepard tried to ignore the little flutter in her stomach when their eyes finally met. "I'll wipe the table down when I'm finished if it'll make you feel better," he said. "Did you sit down just to lecture me? I forgot how much you enjoy doing that, you get this determined glint in your eyes."

"Very funny," Shepard replied, and then thought about what he'd just said. "I don't really get a glint in my eye, do I?"

"A little bit. It's kind of intimidating."

"Who'd have thought a little human like me could scare a big, bad turian vigilante."

"I did see you headbutt that krogan on Tuchanka. I knew then never to piss you off."

Shepard laughed and found herself with another smile on her face. Fair enough, they couldn't have been talking for more than a couple of minutes, but this wasn't so bad anymore. Neither of them was acting particularly tense and she wasn't fantasising about leaving or about anything else that she definitely shouldn't be thinking about. Well, not too much anyway. She was starting to almost feel glad that she'd run into him down here.

She smiled at him again and dropped her spoon on top of the ice cream. "So how come you're still awake at this ungodly hour, Garrus?" she asked, "Shouldn't you be getting your beauty sleep? The Normandy needs you at your best."

Garrus looked confused. "Uh...what's beauty sleep?"

"I don't know how to explain it properly; it's just a silly human phrase, I was teasing you." She leant forward across the table so she was a little closer to him. "Seriously though, how come you're not asleep? Apart from the night shift workers, it looks like we're the only ones who are still up."

"I guess I developed bad habits while I was on Omega."

Shepard raised an eyebrow. "Bad habits?"

"Yeah," he replied. "Strangely enough, you don't tend to sleep so well thinking that heavily armed mercenaries could come in at any moment and spray you with bullets. I got used to just grabbing a couple of hours of rest at a time and always being ready for a fight." He shrugged. "Now I probably couldn't sleep through the night if I tried."

As he finished speaking, Shepard noticed he was looking at the bags under her eyes. "You know I could ask you the same thing, Commander. You seem tired. Don't you usually turn in before midnight?"

His question made Shepard feel a little uneasy, even though he'd just admitted to having trouble sleeping himself, and she found herself staring down at her hands, wondering if she should tell him the truth or make something up. She looked back up at his face and made her decision. "I was asleep, but I had a nightmare and it spooked me way more than it should have done. I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep. Nothing more to it than that."

"A nightmare?" he said straight away, "Was it like one of those Prothean visions from the beacon?" He sounded concerned and she was almost ashamed when she realised how good that made her feel.

"No, no, nothing like that, Garrus," Shepard said. She hesitated for a second, but, much to her own surprise continued to speak, "It was about Mindoir, where I grew up. I know we've never exactly talked about this together before, but I suppose you've probably heard about what happened there. Or maybe you haven't, I don't know. I try not to think about it too much now, but when I was sixteen years old the colony was raided by batarian slavers. My...my family died. My friends too. All of them. By the end of the day all I had left was the dress I was wearing and it was covered in ash." She let out a harsh, dry laugh. "I don't know why I survived but I did. The whole thing was awful. We were just farmers, we didn't have anything worth taking. I was back there in my dream, running, and...and..."

Shepard stopped talking as her brain finally seemed to catch up with her mouth. What the hell had possessed her to just come out with all of that? She didn't talk about Mindoir with anyone, ever, it was her own golden rule and she'd broken it for no good reason. God, the sleep deprivation was really doing a number on her now. She could even feel a few tears gathering in the corner of her eyes, but this was all wrong and she had to regain control.

She swiped angrily at her eyes and slapped her hand down on the table so hard that her palm stung. "I shouldn't bore you with this nonsense."

"Shepard it's okay. You can tell me anything, I like listening to you talk. I'm always here if you need me." Garrus moved as if he was going to reach across the table and grab her hand, but instead he ended up awkwardly picking up one of the furthest away rifle parts and twirling it in his talons.

Shepard broke the growing silence, "Thanks for saying that but I really should just go up to my quarters and get back into bed. I don't think the Normandy should have a sleep-deprived captain at the wheel."

Even as she said the words, she knew she was lying to him. She had no real intention of trying to get more sleep. Still, she rose out of her chair and started gathering all of the food in her arms again.

"Well okay, I guess you know where to find me if you change your mind," he said, staring up at her.

"I do."

"You're completely sure you're alright?"

Shepard looked at the food in her hands, rather than at him. "Yes, completely sure."

"I won't hold you back then," he said, although he didn't sound convinced. "Don't forget about agreeing to take me on the next mission. It's been far too long since we've blown up something together. It should cheer both of us up, right?"

"Yeah, I'm sure it will. Goodnight, Garrus," she said, her voice becoming softer when her lips formed his name,

She then started to walk, laden with food, towards the elevator, but she looked back before turning the corner. Garrus was bent over the parts again. A feeling of aching longing unlike anything she'd ever felt before tore through her as she watched him work and, God, it hurt. She still wanted him so badly; there was no way that she could pretend otherwise right at that moment.

All she had to do was ask and she knew he would probably come up to her quarters and provide her with all the comfort she needed, maybe without even questioning the insane way she'd been behaving towards him lately. She could feel what it was like to have his weight pressing her down against the bed again. But then morning would come, he'd still be there with her and she wouldn't know what to do.

Shepard turned away from him. Nothing had changed. She headed back towards her quarters, her pace slow as she resigned herself to spending the next few hours alone.

On the bright side, which in all honestly didn't seem any brighter to her than a crack of dull light, at least she had food now. As sad as it was, eating always did seem to make her feel a little better when she was down. So did reading. Maybe she would sit back and try to relax with a good book once all the food was finally gone. The idea of disappearing from her own life into a fantasy world for a couple of hours was more than a little appealing to her.

Years ago on Mindoir, she'd owned a huge collection of properly bound books, but she'd had to leave them all behind. She missed the smell of the pages. Reading off a data pad was okay but it never felt quite the same. Her favourite novel, Wuthering Heights, looked somehow strange to her when it was written out in digital letters. Even so, she still returned to it time and time again. Not tonight though. She had no desire to read about a doomed love affair in the state she'd gotten herself into; she might end up hurling herself out of an airlock.

There was always that unopened copy of Fornax she'd tucked away somewhere in her quarters. She was still trying to work out exactly what had possessed her to buy that on Omega, although, come to think of it, she did remember that Garrus had been standing about ten feet away from her when she'd picked it up. God only knows what thoughts about him had already been forming in the back of her head all those weeks ago.

Maybe it was safest for her to just sit on the sofa and stare into space for a while. Or spend a couple of hours trying to drown herself in the shower.


As soon as Shepard's shift started the next morning, she heard a familiar ping at her omni-tool and looked down to see that Miranda was requesting an "urgent" meeting with her. Although Shepard considered Miranda to be a valuable member of the team, sometimes even a friend after everything they'd been through together, this was not how she wanted to begin her working day. She'd been planning to go mope in a dark corner for a couple of hours and claim to be supervising the repair work. Now she couldn't.

Shepard wasted a few minutes watching the stars through the window above her bed before giving in and finally leaving her quarters. She tried not to drag her feet too much as she travelled through the ship to Miranda's office, despite her whole body feeling heavy.

When she was passing by the mess hall, however, she couldn't stop herself from pausing to stare at the chair Garrus had been sitting in the night before. She knew it hadn't been particularly nice of her to get up and leave him so suddenly when he'd been trying to help her, but she wasn't sure what she would have ended up saying to him if she'd stayed. He was probably in the main battery right now, tapping away at the console like always. Maybe behind the door he was thinking of her right at that moment, just like she was thinking of him. It was possible.

Shepard rolled her eyes at her own thoughts. She needed to stop acting like a lovesick teenager and get moving again before Miranda had to come looking for her. She did an about turn, away from the mess hall, and then strode directly into the other woman's office.

Miranda was sitting behind her desk when Shepard came in. Depressingly, she looked as beautiful as ever despite it being first thing in the morning when most normal people were still barely functioning. Her hair was shining so much in the overhead lighting that Shepard couldn't help staring at it. She felt an unwelcome pang of jealously, but it immediately disappeared when she realised that Miranda was no longer wearing her Cerberus uniform.

Shepard found herself smiling as she stood in front of her. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, Commander," Miranda replied, without stopping to smile back. Instead, she picked up a datapad from her desk and began to read from it. "There are few issues I'd like to talk to you about. Firstly, the repair crews have said that they're running low on some materials and I would advise that we start mining again immediately or the whole repair operation may grind to a halt within a couple of days. The Normandy is far too vulnerable to be left in its current state. I have estimated that just a few direct hits could do serious and potentially permanent damage to the ship."

Shepard had no choice but to listen as Miranda continued to talk with her about the repairs for what felt like hours, although in reality was probably no more than ten minutes. Eventually, much to Shepard's relief, she seemed to run out of steam.

"Thanks for the update," Shepard said, "I'll get onto the mining straight away. There's no real need to worry."

"Thank you, Commander," Miranda replied, but Shepard noticed there was some hesitation in her voice, as if there was more she wanted to say. She didn't look quite so composed as usual either, her mask of steely confidence slipping for a few seconds while she fiddled with the already perfectly arranged papers on her desk.

Shepard thought it was best to just put her out of her misery. "If you want to talk with me about something else, Miranda, then go ahead. I'm always happy to help you. You know that."

Miranda's blue eyes hit Shepard's. "Actually, I was wondering if you were okay."

Shepard definitely hadn't expected her to say that and maybe it showed because Miranda's words started coming out slightly too fast as she continued, "I don't mean to intrude, Commander, but you've seemed very tired lately."

"So people keep saying. You haven't been speaking to Kelly, have you?"

"No." Miranda looked genuinely confused. "We, ah, don't tend to cross paths much."

"Right. Well, anyway, I'm fine. Really."

"Alright." Miranda paused and seemed to think deeply for a few seconds, "Shepard if you, for any reason, decide that you're not okay then I just want you to understand that you can talk to me anytime. I know I'm probably not anyone's first choice as a confidant on this ship, but you've helped me in the past. I'd be more than happy to return the favour."

Shepard actually felt a little touched, this was a real turnout for the books, Miranda didn't usually come across as the caring type unless she was talking about Oriana. However, she also knew that there was no way in hell she was going to take her up on the offer.

"Thanks Miranda," she said eventually, "But I'm still alright."

"I suppose I'll see you later then. Have a nice day, Shepard."

"You too."

When Shepard arrived up on the bridge a few minutes later she was still feeling more than a little confused after her conversation with Miranda. She advanced towards the galaxy map, hoping that mining, though dull as sin, might at least help her to finally clear her head. She'd started to lean forward over the railing when she heard Mordin's voice come from behind her.

"Shepard, would like to speak with you if at all possible."

Shepard turned round to face him and shrugged. Clearly she was not going to get a minute to herself this morning. "Sure why not, go ahead."

"Would prefer to talk in lab."

"Fine," she said, but inwardly she was hoping against hope that he didn't want to have a long conversation with her. She'd had no coffee all morning, her head had started aching in Miranda's office and she just wasn't sure if she was going to able to keep up with him.

With some hesitation, she followed after Mordin as he headed into the lab. As she walked towards him, she noticed that there was a large assortment of beakers on one of his desks, all filled with an amber fluid which looked suspiciously like human urine. At the back of the room, a strange humming noise was emanating from a sealed container. Shepard decided against asking him what he was working on.

"What is it, Mordin?" she asked warily. The last talk she'd had with the good doctor had involved him giving her some 'helpful' medical advice about the risks involved in consummating her relationship with Garrus. With a visible twinkle in his black eyes, he'd warned her about chafing and allergic reactions and then had EDI forward some extremely graphic vids to her quarters. Out of sheer curiosity, she'd put one on at the end of a particularly dull shift. It had been turned off again about fifty seconds later.

She preferred to learn by doing anyway and since Garrus hadn't watched them either when he arrived up in her quarters, she guessed he probably did too. Once they were together, it had all just fallen into place for them anyway. Not that it mattered one little bit now...

"Shepard. Appear distracted. Are you listening?" Mordin said, looking concerned as he waved one hand back and forth across her face.

Shepard pulled her focus back into the room. "Sorry. I was thinking about the hull repairs that still need doing. What were you saying?"

"Want to check you are okay. Sent message yesterday asking you to come see me."

"Oh," Shepard replied as a vague memory of reading his message passed through her mind, "Sorry, I guess I missed it somehow."

"Don't worry. Glad you're here now. Want to discuss your health."

Shepard tensed up, waiting for whatever was coming next. "My health? What exactly do you mean, Mordin?"

"You seem unwell."

"I'm okay," Shepard replied, although, truthfully, she was starting to wonder just how strangely she'd been acting over the last few days, given that half the population of the Normandy now seemed to be trying to check up on her. Maybe Legion and Grunt would be offering her advice and a warm shoulder to cry on soon.

Mordin shook his head when he heard her answer. "Seem distracted lately. Appearance suggests lack of sleep. Have bags under eyes, skin is pale. Also appear to be on edge."

"I'm fine. Just peachy"

Mordin took in a deep breath. "Do not believe you. Sorry to be blunt but suspect you may be depressed."

Shepard opened her mouth to reply, but before she could another stream of words was coming out of the salarian's mouth. "If diagnosis can be confirmed with Dr Chakwas, there are many treatments available which could help you. Pills, herbal remedies, meditation. Would personally recommend that you try taking a sedative. Very relaxing. Or you could talk to someone. Could even talk to me if you like."

Shepard might have found the idea of the hyper-active doctor offering to play agony aunt for her a little amusing had the rest of what he'd said not been so deeply unfunny. "I'm perfectly happy," she said firmly. Not telling the truth, yet again, was far easier than making an attempt to sort through all the jumbled up thoughts that were currently floating through her head.

Mordin stared at her. "Still believe something is wrong with you." He stopped talking for about half a second, which for him constituted a long and considered pause. "Do not mean to pry, but the end of your relationship with Gunnery Officer Vakarian seems to be at root of your recent unhappiness. Can be fixed. Biological signs suggest he is still interested in you. Could talk to him perhaps."

Shepard felt like all the blood in her body had rushed to her face. "Mordin, I told you I'm okay!" She knew she was almost shouting now and probably sounded like a petulant ass, but she could not keep having this awful conversation with him.

Mordin looked at her intently, before he finally spoke again, "Very well. Will let you work. You're sure you wouldn't like a sedative? Even just one? It might help you sleep."

"No thank you, Mordin" Shepard said, "I'll see you later." She turned to leave.

By the time she got to the door, she was already feeling ashamed about losing her temper. It wasn't like her. She made a point of always trying to be nice to people, especially her crew. Of course, some individuals just didn't respond to diplomacy and that's when her guns came out, but she knew that yelling at someone who was only trying to help her was not okay. She felt just like she used to years ago when she fought with her father about curfews and what constituted appropriate clothing. Back then she'd had a terrible habit of putting on nice outfits only to go tearing around outside, climbing trees and scrambling up streams.

As Shepard stepped out of the lab, she noticed that Kelly was looking in her direction. She couldn't help wondering if the Yeoman had been hovering outside the door so she could 'accidentally' overhear her whole conversation with Mordin.

It didn't matter. Although she was grateful that Kelly had got her talking with Garrus again, there was no way in hell she was having another discussion about her mental state today unless she was tied down with a gun pointed to her head. Even then it would have to be a pretty big gun.

Shepard turned her back on Kelly and placed herself directly in front of the galaxy map so she could begin working.


She'd been mining for four hours in a semi-conscious state and had just started onto a new planet when from somewhere far away she heard EDI say "Anomaly detected."

Immediately Shepard was wide awake, straightening her bent body up as EDI told her they'd stumbled across a signal from some kind of batarian mercenary base.

Her promise to bring Garrus with her on the next mission began to flash through her mind and she tried not to panic...