Ch 2: A Room Without Shepard

Perhaps unconsciousness is a nothingness, blinding pitch black and deafening silence. Maybe it is more of a dream state, wherein our wildest fantasies come true, or our darkest fears are revealed. Or maybe it is composed of stranger theories, of alternate realities and out-of-body experiences. Whatever the case, Shepard was being called away from this complex realm, bound for parts better known...

The darkness slowly gave way to blurred lights and muffled sounds.

" … optimal levels … biometric readings are stabilizing … some bourbon … "

As lines became crisper, Shepard could roughly make out the shape of two heads floating above him.

A different voice this time, and speaking much faster: "Hmm. Symmetry off by six degrees. Recommend we lower one by three millimeters, preferably the left, for optimal physical balance – "

The first voice, female, interrupted him: "No, it's supposed to be that way."

But the other seemed not to have heard her. "Choice of metallic material means increased frontal mass. Intriguing implications. Shift in center of gravity, but impressive physiology can easily adapt. Long-term complications unlikely." Shepard groaned; the incessant voice bored into his pounding skull.

"He's coming to! Shh – if you don't park that tongue, I'm giving you a tranquilizer. Commander, can you hear me?" Shepard blinked away the bleariness to reveal Dr. Chakwas's worried face.

Despite his body's protestations, Shepard pulled himself into a half-sitting position. He was on a bed in the infirmary. Medical instruments, softly beeping, flashed the only colours in the anitiseptic environment.

Chakwas allowed herself a smile, relaxing somewhat with her patient's return to full consciousness. "How are you, Commander?"

Head pounding, he pressed his palms against his temples to try to soothe the ache. "I feel like the day after shore leave," he groaned. "What the hell happened?"

The second figure, who Shepard now recognized as the salarian Dr. Mordin Solus, was more than happy to explain. "Pierced scrotum and severed testicular connections. Prognosis poor, so … creative thinking required."

"Ugh," the Commander moaned, pushing his fingertips into his ears. Any small inclination of Shepard's toward geniality was overruled by the pain. He checked for his gun, but came up empty. "Would someone please blow this nerd's brains out?"

Tapping a long finger against his chin, deep in thought, Mordin didn't appear insulted. His eyes jumped across the room as his mind raced ahead. "Interesting proposition. Hmm ... Not in a clinical setting. Blood-to-blood contamination potentially hazardous." Shepard made a big show of groaning louder.

Mercifully, Dr. Chakwas translated the salarian's earlier statement into a language Shepard would understand: "Your balls, Commander."

Little scared Shepard. Countless times, he had looked death in the face … and promptly shot it. Whether the enemy was human, turian, geth, Reaper, or elcor, they all had hearts to be stopped or systems to be shut down. This, however, was personal.

"It hurts!" he whined. "Get Liara to come kiss it better!" But at his own prompting of her name, recent events flooded back to him. Even Shepard realized that Liara likely would not indulge his wish just now. "Just give me more of your damn magic pills – " Shepard stopped mid-sentence, distracted by a flash of reflected light at his crotch.

He leaned closer. The shape, the size, the position were all right (and very impressive, Shepard had to admit). But something was off. And having spent much of his life with his pants down, he could recognize the slightest change – not that this change was slight.

"Slap my ass and call me Shai'ira," Shepard breathed, impressed.

For the Commander now had balls of steel.

An unbelievably headstrong Shepard marched through the hallways back to his quarters. He giggled with elation at each step, for each step produced a satisfying clinking sound. Each step confirmed his manhood – not that he felt it needed confirming. But he did enjoy sounding like a walking pocketful of change.

Despite his upgrade, though, he was without a date for tonight. Or the next night. He was utterly Liara-less. The powerful, rising feeling of disappointment throbbed in his chest.

Shepard didn't understand. Why was this strange sensation stronger than the steel between his legs? His once superfluous spirits had turned – or, more accurately, taken a sudden dive. If there was a way to measure it in "hanar", he was feeling like a big, stupid jellyfish right about now.

From behind the Commander, glowing, indigo eyes followed Shepard through the halls. Like a sweet-eyed puppy, Tali caught up to him, oblivious to Shepard's wrath. "Shepard, I've just examined the new drive core – "

"... not now, Tali," he grumbled. He extended his hand, unintentionally pushing her chest as he set her aside. Or, maybe intentionally. One thing was for sure – he was looking for a new girl... alien or not. He'd take anything this side of a shy quarian.

"Shepard, these readings..."

Shepard shook his head and stopped. She just didn't get it, did she? He'd have to give her a little chat.

"Tali," moaned Shepard, "could you fuck off for a second? I'm busy getting my ass dumped."

She just stood there as if she were blind. "Oh, I'm ... I'm sorry Shepard, that's horrible, I ... now I'm just standing here, rambling and rambling like an idiot and I'm … "

" … how about 'goodbye'?" Shepard head-butted her, cracking the glass of her visor and knocking her out cold.

He walked away as the antibiotics hissed out of the crack. His need for ass was unfulfilled. Sullenly, he stalked through the automatic doors into his quarters.

Kaiden was already waiting for him. "Problem, Shepard?" Shepard didn't even blink as he walked past Kaiden and went for the phone. He was feeling utterly distraught. He needed to call the suicide hotline. Or specifically, his suicide hotline.

"Shepard? What the hell are you doing, calling me now? It's nearly 24:00! You can't just call me up every time you've got a problem!"

Anderson sounded pretty angry. Shepard had, after all, called two days before in the middle of the night, about what kind of get-well card he should get Udina. He gave a drawn-out, shaky sigh and prepared to be told yet again: 'Sometimes, Shepard, you need to smack your problems in the face!'.

"What's the matter, colonel? Chicken? Or are you just eating some?"

"That's Admiral to you, Shepard. And I told you, no more black jokes."

"Black jokes?" snarled Shepard, his focus suddenly on Jacob Taylor who was walking in the doorway. "Who's making black jokes!"

Pulling the receiver away from him, Shepard tossed it across the room, where it hit the ground with an earsplitting shriek.

"Jacob! My homie! How's it going?"

Kaiden cleared his throat. "Hey, Jacob."

"Kaiden. Umm ... Shepard?" Jacob looked somewhat puzzled, but undeterred. "I was going to get some stat-readings from Tali, but I can't find her anywhere. You haven't … "

Jacob: the rookie, fresh out of a galactically-recognized terrorist organization. Shepard took special care to demonstrate both his esteemed sides – commanding and cool – to the new kid. He decided to appeal to (what he assumed to be) their common taste in humour at the expense of others. " … seen her? Nah. She's probably around stealing shit with her 'friends' from the flotilla."

"Right," Jacob said, trying to conceal his irritation. "So you have no idea where she is?"

Shepard, an ardent observer of human nature, was well aware that Jacob had yet to warm up to him. His Shepard-esque charm, though prompt and penetrating, did not always have an immediate affect. But with time, Shepard knew, he and Jacob would undoubtedly be the best of buds. After all, they had so much in common: Jacob knew the rush of a good gunfight; Jacob was military; Jacob was a cool guy. Why was he so cool ...? Shepard just felt deeply that there was some omnipresent but unidentifiable quality about the man, something special but relatable, something exotic but still human, that made Shepard want Jacob to like him.

"No idea," said Shepard with a know-it-all smirk. "But your best bet is that she's creating a rogue AI in engineering!"

"Yeah, Shepard. I'll be sure to look out for her." With relief, he moved towards freedom in the form of the door. He was gone, almost out of earshot. He welcomed a room without Shepard.

"Good luck, Jacob! God knows you need all the luck you can get finding people – " and lacking an appreciation for refined subtlety, Shepard felt compelled to add, "like your father!"

The commander frowned: silence was no reply. Jacob had no sense of humour; he could never appreciate Shepard's unique way of showing affection. The problem was, Jacob had not fought Saren alongside Shepard; Jacob was Cerberus; Jacob had no personality.

Kaiden, who had been watching Shepard with intense concern, said with admiration. "G-good one, Commander. Nice family touch."

Shepard started. "Kaiden! Where the fuck did you come from? Have you been here all this time?"

Kaiden felt himself shrink. "I ... I just sensed ... that you were upset ... this is strange, I know, but these ... migraines ... they make me more sensitive to other people ... especially you. Like we were ... twins, or something … "

Shepard chortled. "Well, Christ, Kaiden, have Chakwas check that out. I don't want to catch your cooties."

Kaiden sighed, then smiled. "So what's been bugging you, Shepard?"

The commander's spirits may have presently been low, but his confidence was always high ... high enough to always kick back with a smart remark. Still, for some reason, between racist jokes and cooties, he was feeling a strange urge to be serious about his predicament.

"Kaiden," began Shepard, "I was shit out."

Shit out? Kaiden shook his head, not understanding what Shepard had said, thinking it was a joke. "You'll have to clarify that, sir."

"I know, Kaiden," began Shepard, "It's hard to believe. I've never actually been dumped before."

Kaiden stared intently. "Oh!" Shepard was a funny and beautiful soul, that was for damn sure. He found humour in the toughest of situations.

The commander leaned back in his seat, facing out the window into the star-streaked expanse, mildly contemplative – but, as usual, not silent for long. "You know Liara?"

"Why yes, sir. An admirable woman and a skilled scientist. Beautiful, too. You two are much alike, Shepard."

Shepard spun around in his seat to face the lieutenant, staring daggers. "Admirable? Because she broke up with me?"

'I … I didn't mean that." Kaiden did not wish to speak poorly of Liara. He had often felt a connection with the asari, even beyond their shared friendship with Shepard; they were two sensitive souls, compassionately sympathetic and self-conscious, too often at the mercy of cruder characters. Kaiden, however, was also convinced of the Commander's hidden, inner softness, and thus proceeded with caution. "Admirable because … she was smart enough to choose you. Initially. But then she left you, so … not so admirable, I suppose. Maybe 'admirable' wasn't the best choice of words."

Shepard relaxed. "You gotta stop using big words you don't know the meaning of, Lieutenant. 'Admirable' … you'll get yourself in trouble, one day."

"Yes, sir. So … what exactly happened? Liara seems like a nice enough person."

"Shit, Kaiden, if you like her so much, go marry her." Shepard sighed, the sigh of someone trying to expel his pain from within. "I thought everything was a-okay. But I got busy fighting Reapers and saving galactic ass, she got busy with, uh, her Shadow Broker stuff – whatever the hell she was doing – and … anyway, you know how things are." He wiped a hand over his face. "Crap, I need a drink."

There was a pause as Shepard waited. Getting no response, he looked pointedly at Kaiden.

Dumbly, Kaiden returned the look; then, suddenly getting the message, he jostled into action. "Oh – right, Commander. Right away." Kaiden jumped from the couch. Reaching the desk he pressed a button nearby on the wall, and with a swoosh the desk was replaced with a mini-bar. With infinite care, Kaiden prepared Shepard's favourite concoction.

"Yeah, I asked EDI to make me a drink once, but she said the replicator was down," Shepard continued. Kaiden heard him squirm in his seat. "Agh, these suits are too tight. What was Cerberus thinking? How can we shoot accurately with armor riding up our ass? – Kaiden, I'm changing into my 'jamas; don't peek."

Kaiden concentrated intently on making the drink. "Uh, sure thing, Commander." He laughed and, taking a chance, added a joke nervously, "Sounds comfortable, actually. Especially after the last mission, eh? Got a second pair?"

"No, Kaiden," Shepard replied contemptuously. "This is not a sleepover. We are not going to gossip about the boys in our class and compare boob size." There was a shuffle of clothes as he changed. "We're gonna get piss-shit drunk like big boys. Bring me my poison."

At the Commander's order, Kaiden reflexively began to turn; then, his cautions kicking in, stopped himself short. "You all dressed, Commander?"

Shepard chortled disdainfully. "Course I am, I – oh, wait, forgot this … OK, all clear." Kaiden brought him his drink; he gulped it down in three seconds, twitched his head and twisted his lips. He quickly recovered: "Kaiden, that was crap. Make me another."

It was 03:00. Rolling laughter roared within Shepard's quarters.

"OK, OK, then wh-what happened?" Kaiden choked out; at this point, he was hardly able to form a cohesive thought in his mind, let alone put it into words.

The room stank of alcohol, burning out any thoughts that threatened their presently worry-free existence. Shepard lay lounging on the couch; Kaiden, displaced by the Commander from that more comfortable location, now sat nearby on the floor, his back against the wall – supportive during fits of drunken laughter. Empty bottles and glasses, having served their purpose, lay discarded around them.

Shepard finished his current bottle before continuing the story that had enchanted Kaiden for the past three and a half minutes. "So she was all" – his voice broke into a high-pitched squeak – "'The galaxy has a right to know, Commander, and you gotta tell us what happened. You owe the galaxy an explanation.' Then I – get this – I looked right into the camera and said, 'The galaxy sucks krogan balls,' and then..." He paused for dramatic effect. Or to grasp for another bottle sitting upon a nearby table, easily within reach but, in his state, requiring much concentration.

Kaiden, who had been giggling throughout the rendition, suddenly froze, eager to hear the final punchline, the inevitable ending to a joke he'd heard a dozen times before. Hell, he'd been there, he knew exactly how it – or any conversation with a pissed Commander Shepard – ended. But that didn't make the Commander's antics any less amusing.

Shepard, his liquor prize finally in hand, finished grinning, "And then I punched her in the face!"

Kaiden burst out laughing. He clutched his stomach – probably to keep his innards from shooting out his mouth – and whatever self-control was left after hours of drink and humour gave way as he started rolling on the floor. Shepard laughed out loud at his own joke, drunk happy by his entertaining ability. In imitation, he punched at the air above the couch, and the laughter redoubled.

When they had resurfaced, Kaiden exclaimed reverently, "Oh my god, oh my god, Shepard, you are too funny!"

"Yeah, I am," Shepard agreed, modest as ever. He lay back with a contented sigh, staring up at the ceiling with dumb drunk bliss plain across his face. "Y'know, Kaiden, y'know … this is how things should be. No stupid women ruining things for … for us guys …."

"... Yeah, Commander." Looking up from the floor, Kaiden studied Shepard's face, a difficult task considering how blurred it appeared to the lieutenant from the liquor. Shepard was strong, he knew; he would hide his heartache behind sparkling eyes and a wry smile above that chiseled chin of his. But Kaiden knew Shepard better than Shepard knew himself (after all, the Commander was not one for introspection, or "pansy thinky-feely time", as he would call it) and it was clear that, despite his brashness and bravery, Shepard was but a man, and he was hurting.

Shepard continued, slurring, "We should just … throw them all off this ship!" He waved his hand aimlessly above his head. "Just you and me, and Jacob would totally hang with us. And Grunt, too, 'cause … 'cause he's so badass, so obviously, yeah. The Alliance brass would be so pissed, cause they would say, 'gender dis … discrim...' whatever, but the brass can kiss my..." His voice trailed away. Kaiden, who had been nodding emphatically at every one of Shepard's suggestions, opened his mouth to say something, when Shepard started up again loudly, "But not Mordin, that nerd. And Garrus, 'cause I don't like his half … screwed-up face. Who … who needs women anyway?" Bitterness warped his face and voice; he partly threw, partly dropped his glass to the ground, in anger and despair.

Kaiden gulped down more of his drink; some of it went down wrong, but he tried to hide his discomfort and solved the problem with minimal coughing. Shepard didn't need more to worry about. Kaiden hated to see the Commander so disturbed, and wisely decided to tread carefully on the minefield of poor Shepard's feelings. "No women? I'd say it's definitely possible. The asari survived without men … before they got space travel, and all. I, uh, guess they don't need us, either."

Shepard snorted into his glass. "Kaiden, are you saying that … Liara might find someone else?"

Kaiden suddenly found that he wasn't sure what he had said. "Umm..."

"Like, a woman?"

"... I guess – "

"And I won't be there to watch?"

Shepard sounded horrified. Kaiden froze. "I'm … I'm sorry, commander, I didn't mean that. I... Commander, are you okay?" The Commander's eyes appeared wetter than usual.

Wavering slightly, Shepard pushed himself into a sitting position, then pointedly checked his digital watch. "Damn, it's that late? The … numbers are … more."

"Shepard – "

"Shouldn't you be callin' your momma to pick you up, lieutenant?" Shepard said wryly, but there was a wretched, hard edge to his tone.

Using a table for support, Kaiden pulled himself up, sheepish. "Well, it was good catching up, Commander."

Shepard stood to face him. "Better get your beauty sleep, 'cause – "

" – I'm ugly as a vorcha," Kaiden finished for him, but he was not insulted; it was always an honour to be the butt end of one of the Commander's witty jibes. Perhaps the Commander had already forgiven him? Kaiden smiled; his eyes showed recognition of Shepard's pain, and the hand he placed on the commander's shoulder declared his utmost dedication.

"And don't you forget it," Shepard ordered. Kaiden nodded a yes, sir, and the door whooshed closed behind him.

Whether Shepard fully realized the lieutenant's priceless loyalty, his gem of friendship, was yet to be seen.