A/N: Big thanks to everyone who reviewed (and/or just read, favourited, followed, etc...)

Chapter Two

Awakening

The first thing that Shepard became aware of was how goddamn cold it was. Her green eyes slowly, painfully flickered open. A brilliant night sky stared back down at her, millions of stars winking merrily. Abigail shivered; she could see her breath come out in little clouds of white smoke above her.

For a moment, she was confused. Where was she? Basic? On-board the Normandy? Then the events of the past few hours caught up with her and she shut her eyes, the rush of memories all jumbled and disjointed, making her head pound.

The Reapers. Had they won? Abigail wracked her brain. She remembered fighting on Earth with the Hammer teams, the mad rush for the beam. She remembered being hit by Harbinger's MHD, the excruciating pain of having her flesh burned off. She remembered somehow managing to get to the Citadel, to the Council chambers. Anderson dying. The Illusive Man.

She had managed to open the Citadel and they had docked the Crucible. Then – what had happened? It all seemed like a blur of pain and even more pain. She vaguely recalled opening communications with Sword Fleet. Hackett's voice …

Damn it, why was this so hard to remember?

There had been a problem, the Crucible didn't fire, she had to do something … then there had been something … blue?

"The Catalyst!" she said out loud, and then broke out in a fit of coughing, her throat raw, although thankfully, no blood came up this time.

At this, Shepard rocketed to full consciousness. Adrenaline pounding through her body washed away the remaining vestiges of sleep and she blinked, the soldier in her instantly taking in her surroundings as she staggered to her feet, wincing as her injuries vehemently protested her actions. A hiss of pain escaped her lips and she almost fell back down again as just about her entire body flared up.

"Damn," she muttered, and closed her eyes, taking several deep breaths and relegating the pain to her back of her mind.

She glanced up. It was night, as attested by the darkness that enveloped everything like a thick blanket and the stars twinkling above. And it was fucking cold.

Teeth chattering, she twisted around, noting the silhouettes of several trees. Aside from that and the sparse undergrowth, open plains stretched out in all directions. In the far distance, she could vaguely make out the outlines of a mountain range across the horizon.

Where was she? Abigail frowned. Could she have crash landed on Earth? If that was the case, how had she not burned up on re-entry? And if the Citadel had been destroyed, there would be at least some wreckage. Looking around, she could see no odd shapes protruding from the landscape that hinted to hunks of space-station hull.

Abigail shook her head. She'd worry about that later; more important matters demanded her attention. She assessed her own condition: Her injuries were still there, painfully smarting yet not burning furiously as they had before. From what little she could tell in the darkness, her skin was still badly scarred. Almost glowing in the dark, orange scars criss-crossed exposed flesh, her cybernetic implants showing through.

Her plate armour was rent apart and mangled, at some places the ceramic had fused or completely boiled down to her skin suit, which also bore numerous holes and gashes – although thankfully, it still held together. A quick, almost instinctive check of her kinetic barrier emitter found it still active, although without her helmet, she was unable to fully assess its functionality. Similarly, her hand brushed across the back of her neck, checking her biotic implant. The L5x seemed undamaged, but again, only time would tell.

In the darkness, she groped for her carnifexand discovered it miraculously still attached to her hip plate. She fumbled with the weapon for a brief moment before it occurred to her to check her Omni tool. The orange holographic glove lit up on her arm, illuminating the world around her. It was then that she realised that she was standing in the middle of a wide crater. Although only around half a metre deep, it stretched out for several metres of scorched black dirt.

Well … That led credence to the falling-to-the-planet theory.

Another thought occurred to her. How long had she been out? Bringing up her Omni tool, she consulted the time and date. Doing some quick arithmetic in her head, she deduced that it had been roughly thirteen hours since Sword and Hammer fleets struck Earth. So factoring in the time spent in battle and the events of the Citadel, she had been unconscious for about … eleven hours.

Abigail frowned then brought up a scan. A holographic representation of her body appeared above her Omni tool, numerous sections of which were highlighted in flashing red light. Almost her entire body was critically injured. Shock filtered through her.

I shouldn't be awake. By all rights I shouldn't even be alive! How the fuck …?

An old memory flashed through Abigail's mind from the SR-2 of Miranda and Dr. Chawakas informing her of the extent of her Cerberus augmentations. Hadn't it been something about ... nanites and cybernetic healing accelerants?

It had just been after one of her first missions with Cerberus and she had been injured, a lucky merc's bullet having managed to sneak in between her armour plates. But to her utter surprise, once the bullet fragment had been extracted, her skin had begun to heal at an alarming rate. Of course, this hadn't escaped the attention of Dr. Chawakas and the good doctor had immediately paged Miranda Lawson, demanding an explanation right this goddamn minute about exactly what Cerberus had done to Shepard.

Miranda had coolly walked in to the medical bay and then proceeded into a lecture about cybernetics and augmentation filled with scientific and technical jargon that had gone right over Abigail's head. All she had managed to glean from that (mostly) one sided conversation was that Cerberus had implanted in her some form of microscopic cybernetics that accelerated her healing.

Abigail had then interrupted Miranda, "So, basically what you're saying is: I'll heal quick."

Miranda paused then tilted her head, "It really is more complicated than that Commander, although in essence, I suppose, yes –"

"Good," Abigail said. "That's all I needed to know. You are free to return to your duties."

"Of course, Commander."

Ever since then, she hadn't really paid it much thought, just taking it for granted. She examined her palm. By the light of her Omni tool, she could see the scars and burns carpeting her skin, but it no longer looked quite as red and angry, instead, they looked as if they were several days old.

No doubt, those implants were the only reason she had survived.

That's twice you've saved my life, Miranda.

A gust of wind shook Abigail out of her reverie and she shivered. Although her battered armour offered some protection from the harsh elements, it was designed for combat, not comfort and without her helmet; her head was still vulnerable to the bitter cold.

Spotting the outline of a clump of trees to the side, Abigail decided that getting into cover would be the best decision. Once she had a fire going, then she could further assess her options. Her cybernetics may have saved her life, but they wouldn't help if she caught pneumonia.

Abigail began to hobble off towards the trees, her entire body flaring up in pain with every jolt and step.

Much later, as she huddled over a small, crackling fire - started by a low level incinerate from her Omni tool, Shepard examined her only weapon. The M-9 carnifex hand cannon was battered, but the damage was mainly cosmetic and the weapon still remained perfectly functional. However, a more pressing concern was that it only had one thermal clip left. Six rounds before it would be useless.

Abigail frowned at the pistol in her hands, turning it over and ejecting and re-inserting the clip with a dull click. With some time and patience (and liberal application of her Omni tool) she might just be able to modify it to its pre-thermal clip configuration, using once again the inbuilt heat sink, as opposed to the disposable clip. But for the moment, Abigail decided that she would keep the pistol in reserve for extreme emergencies only and rely instead on her biotics and her Omni blade.

As it was, she was still exhausted from the battle of Earth and although her wounds had healed to the point where they were the equivalent of being several days old, her body's reserves of energy were very nearly depleted. She seriously doubted if she could even manage a weak biotic push in her current state, let alone a heavy charge.

As long was she didn't run into anything that tried to kill her … Abigail snorted. Well, at least for a few days anyway.

Speaking of which, Abigail still had no idea as to where she currently might be. She had tried contacting Hackett, the Normandy – anyone and everyone she could, but instead, she was only greeted with static and her Omni tool flashing red and continuing to state in a maddeningly pleasant VI tone: :"Your call could not be connected. Please check your wireless communication status."

Even tuning in to an open broadcast channel and there was nothing, not even the faintest hint of a radio signal. Wherever she had ended up, there was apparently not an inch of technology for hundreds of kilometres around (or at all). And her Omni tool could only do so much; it didn't have enough power to send off an interplanetary distress signal.

Where the fuck am I?

The obvious conclusion was that something in the Crucible had caused this. Yes, but what?

A possibility came to her after a few moments of silent contemplation: There had been an enormous build-up of dark energy at the Citadel when the Crucible was being fired – which she also happened to be right smack-bang in the middle of. And dark energy had the nasty habit of doing shit that nobody quite understood, as well as telling physics to go jump off a bridge.

She vaguely recalled the strange lurch that she had felt when the Crucible had fired, almost like how she felt during a charge. Then there had been a tremendous explosion and since copious amounts of dark energy were involved, it was safe to say that she could be anywhere in the galaxy at the moment.

Or even anywhere in the universe. Or shit, with my fucking luck, maybe even a whole new universe altogether!

Abigail shook her head, strands of red hair falling over her eyes. She gave a weary sigh. Endless theories and speculating till' the cows came home weren't going to help her here. She was no doctor or scientist. She knew exactly shit all about astrophysics or the quantum mechanics of dark energy. She'd have to worry about that later. Being a soldier meant being able to adapt quickly to unknown situations and that pragmatism was what she needed right now.

Assuming she had been catapulted across the galaxy (or the universe) her first priority was survival. Which meant water, food and shelter. In that order. And as she was still wounded and fresh out of medigel, someplace where she could sleep for a good few hours un-interrupted so her implants could fix up the worst of her injuries would be nice too.

Abigail bought up a compass on her Omni tool and after a brief calibration, north turned out to be in the direction of the distant mountains. She'd head there tomorrow, at first light. Her Omni tool was showing the current time to be 10:11 pm, but whatever world she'd ended up in would most likely have different hour days – so dawn could be no more than a couple of hours or an entire day away. Best to get some rest while she could.

Shepard watched her small fire burn down into embers, small sparks jumping into the air. Her gaze mesmerised by the dying fire, she couldn't help but wonder: Did we win? Was it all worth it, in the end?

She mentally shoved that thought aside. Of course it had been worth it. Anything to even have a chance to stop the damn Reapers. She felt a pang in her heart as she thought about her friends, her crew.

Ashley, Vega, Joker, EDI, Miranda, Sam, Tali, Wrex, Mordin, Garrus, Legion, Anderson. . . Liara.

Those she had really fought for if she was honest with herself; not the galaxy, not the faceless trillions but the people who had made it all worth it, in the end. And how many of them had even survived?

Don't think like that, Abigail berated herself. I can't afford to think like that. I will get back to them. I will make it out of here . . . wherever 'here' is.

She had to.

Abigail sighed, wearily rubbing her face and wincing as she brushed against the still raw flesh.

A faint howl in the distance caught her attention. Shepard immediately stilled, her head cocked to the side as her ears strained to make out any sound.

There it was again.

A faint howling drifted through the air, accompanied by the clank of boots on the ground and the wild screech of inhuman voices.

What the fuck …?

Abigail cursed and hurriedly kicked dirt over the remains of her fire, plunging the world around her in darkness. She frantically blinked and as her night vision slowly returned, and she could make out the small orange flicker of fire moving closer to her position. A moment of confusion, before:

Pitch torches, she realised. It was followed closely by, Who the fuck uses that medieval shit?

Abigail scrambled to her feet, hand automatically reaching for her pistol. She halted. Maybe these were friendly locals? It wouldn't do to piss them off by accidentally shooting one of them in the head.

She kept her carnifex holstered, opting instead to prep her Omni blade and concentrate her energy in case she needed to use her biotics.

Not a good idea, said a disapproving voice in the back of her head that sounded suspiciously like Dr. Chawakas. You are dehydrated, injured and exhausted. Conditions that are not conducive to use of biotics.

Sorry Doc. Desperate times and all …

She could now see figures in the distance, getting steadily closer. The screeching was getting louder along with the distinct clang of metal on metal. She could also hear savage, menacing growling. For a second, she almost thought it was a pack of vorcha, before realising that the figures were much too short and small. The wind shifted and the stench of rotting flesh assaulted her nostrils. Abigail gagged, fighting the urge to vomit. Even husks didn't smell that bad. And they were husks.

The figures came closer and Abigail took cover by one of the small trees, Omni tool at the ready. There was a screech and suddenly a grotesque creature appeared in front of Shepard. It was small and hunched up, with heavily disfigured leathery black skin, some form of crude metal armour over its body, and small, cruel yellow eyes. It made a twisted sort of hissing sound, baring its rotting teeth and contorting its head in an almost snake-like manner, a savage, feral grin cutting across its face.

The creature suddenly drew some form of axe from its hip and lunged at her. Abigail reacted almost without thinking. Her carnifex was out and in the blink of an eye, the heavy pistol barked once and the creature was blown back to the ground, a fist sized hole in its face, black blood splattering everywhere.

Ah, shit, there goes diplomacy.

Angry screeching filled the air as the rest of the creatures arrived just in time to see their comrade's impromptu lobotomy. There was a loud roar and as one, the mob of creatures all drew weapons; rusty swords and axes, some carrying shields, and simultaneously rushed her.

Abigail raised her Omni tool and with a wordless command, a silicon carbide blade instantly flash fabricated, glowing white hot and held suspended by mass effect fields. With her other hand, she holstered her pistol and drew her hand into a fist. Blue fire surrounded her body in a corona of dark energy as the crackle of biotics filled the air.

With a loud shout, she charged.

In the space of a split second, Abigail was propelling herself forward in a stream of blue biotic light. She connected with one of the creatures with a detonation that sent the rest of them flying backwards into the dirt.

Coming out of her charge, she immediately drove her omniblade into the chest of the unlucky creature that had managed to remain standing. The white-hot blade punctured through its crude armour like a hot knife through butter, before she cut upwards, vivisecting its upper body with a spray of black blood. Around her, the other creatures thrown to the ground were regaining their senses, screeching and howling, scrambling to recover their dropped weapons.

Abigail didn't give them a chance.

Her omniblade flashed four times, an almost surreal streak of glowing orange in the darkness of the night. Four of the creatures fell to the ground, all missing their heads. The N7 marine was moving before their bodies even hit the dirt. Adrenaline pumping through her veins and dulling the pain of her wounds, she wove through the remaining creatures in a – although no less deadly – half limp. Her left arm was flashing in perfectly timed strikes, omniblade cutting through bone, flesh and armour with almost ridiculous ease, at times igniting the fabric underneath and sending the unfortunate creature to a painful burning death.

The air around Abigail suddenly sparked up blue and a small wickedly sharp black arrow fell to the ground, its shaft splintered, deflected by her kinetic barrier. Another arrow sailed out of the night only to meet the same fate.

Arrows? Abigail thought incredulously. Who the hell uses arrows?

Her eyes immediately scanned the surrounding area, zeroing in on the direction the projectiles had come from. Her keen eyes found the small figure a good distance away, visible as only a fleeting shadow against the night sky. With one smooth motion, she drew, aimed and fired her carnifex, the handcannon barking loudly and sending a paint-chip sized projectile through the air at an incredible velocity, slamming into the chest of the creature in the distance that was in the middle of re-loading its bow, killing it instantly.

Capitalising on her distraction, one of the creature managed to get under her guard and, snarling viciously, struck at Abigail with a large, jagged sword. Although moving too slowly for her barriers to block, the rusty metal only clanged against her armour, barely denting the steel and ceramic. Even though it didn't penetrate, the force behind the blow was not inconsiderable and forced Abigail back, her side flaring up in pain as her injuries protested the violent treatment.

Fuck…

Abigail growled and in response, her body flared up with biotics and she made a flicking gesture with her hand, causing the offending creature to be snatched up into the air by pale blue fire then slammed back down onto the ground with a sickening crunch.

There had been about a dozen of the creatures to begin with, now only four remained. These ones were more cautious however after watching the rest of their group decimated in so many seconds by the woman wielding blue magic and a blade of flames. They circled her warily, snarling at each other in an unfamiliar, guttural language; none of them wanting to attack first.

Abigail took the chance for a quick respite to catch her breath and gather her strength. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, the full brunt of her injuries were making their presence known once again. Painfully. Her muscles burned and her whole body was awash with fatigue. She gritted her teeth and drew deep into the reserves of her strength, steeling herself for the remaining fight ahead. And she wasn't a moment too soon.

The four remaining creatures all charged at once, howling crazily into the air, weapons held up high. Abigail responded by gathering together as much biotic power as she could in her weakened state and unleashing a miniature shockwave around her. Although relatively weak compared to what she was capable of normally, as it was, Abigail almost fainted as her body drew on her last remaining energy stores to fuel the biotic attack, darkness tugging at the edge of her vision.

The blue wave rippled in a small radius around her causing the remaining creatures to stumble back, giving Abigail time to lunge forward and drive her omniblade into the heart of the creature in front of her. It died with a twisted scream and collapsed onto the ground but just as quickly, another took its place, snarling and attempting to disembowel her with a pike. Shepard neatly side stepped the thrust and responded with a swipe of her own, the white hot blade separating the creature's head from the rest of its body. But that left her sides open to attack, something which the remaining two creatures took full advantage off.

Likely knowing that they would lose against her in a straight fight, the creatures opted to instead tackle her. In her weakened state, Abigail offered little resistance and was bowled over, crashing painfully to the ground, the air knocked out of her lungs, black spots dancing in front of her eyes. The creatures were on top of her a second later, tearing into her armour and to every bit of exposed flesh with dagger sharp, curved nails.

Shepard almost blacked out as one of the creatures landed a hit on her ribs, jostling one of the many fractures in the bone. With a pained grunt, she managed to bring up her omniblade and make a half-hearted swipe at the creature. Her movements were sluggish however and the creature easily dodged it. Fast running out of energy and with every nerve in her body crying out in pain, hastening the loss of her already shaky grip on consciousness; Abigail knew she had to end this fight. Now.

She managed to roll to her side, slightly dislodging the creature above her and groped around her hip, her fingers finding the cool handle of her pistol. She brought up the Carnifex, the weapon unfolding in a second, jammed it right into the face of one of the creatures and pulled on the trigger resulting in an explosion of black blood and rank flesh raining down on her as the creature's head was promptly blown off.

Partially free of some weight, Abigail twisted and brought her elbow upwards, slamming it into the last creature's windpipe, causing it to choke and instinctively grasp its throat. She quickly raised her pistol and fired again, blowing the creature back in a mess of blood and gore as the bullet punched through armour and eviscerated its torso.

The night returned to silence.

Breathing hard and covered in blood – both her own and the strange black blood of the creatures, and far too exhausted to move or even remotely give a damn, Abigail lay back in the cool grass, watching the brilliant canopy of stars stretching overhead. A tinge of pink was just beginning to creep its way across the horizon, heralding the dawn. Her vision was fading to black; pain and the fact that she simply did not have any energy remaining, finally taking their toll. The last thought that flashed across her mind was: Fuck. These things really stink. With that, her grip on consciousness was lost and she surrendered to the darkness.

Abigail drifted, not really sure if she was awake or dreaming, she wasn't sure how long she lay there, reality blending in with dreams into one massive blur of pain and disjointed images. Her mouth was hot and dry, her throat painfully burning.

Water. Oh how she'd kill for a nice glass of ice cold water right now.

Actually, scratch that. How she'd kill for some goddamn medi-gel to make her skin stop feeling like it was slowly being submerged in acid.

Sometimes she saw the Normandy CIC, her crew joking around the ship; then just as quickly she was back on that field in the unknown planet. Other times she relived the final dash for the beam, Harbinger's MHD cutting soldiers apart with methodical ease.

Then sometimes it was Mordin's final words. "Has to be me, Shepard …"

Or Legion's. "Does this unit have a soul …? "

She was so disorientated and delirious that when she began to hear the voices fading in and out above her, at first, she thought it was just a dream.

"… who is she?"

"…the lady is garbed strangely … armour perhaps? I …"

"… by the Valar! The dead orcs! She … slain them all …"

"…mighty feat…"

"…obviously … quite hurt. See … fearsome wounds! Poor … must have died slowly …"

Died? That brought her closer to awareness. If Abigail could have snorted, she would have. I'm not goddamn dead yet. It took every last drop of determination and strength she possessed for her to slowly move her head from side to side. In response, a vicious spike of pain drove through her temples, pounding furiously and she let out a low groan.

"… she yet lives! …"

"… impossible! . . . how …"

"… it matters not! We must take her to the healer … know what to do …"

"… haste … close to death as it is …"

"My lady? My lady, can you hear me?"

A cool hand briefly pressed against her burning cheek and Abigail sighed with relief, savouring the cold touch.

"… ill, wracked by fever …"

"My lady, concentrate on my voice. Do not sleep! You'll not die here, I promise it. Quickly, hand me that cloth …"

Someone jostled her and it was all Abigail could do not to scream out as seemingly every nerve in her body simultaneously fired off in pain. She had the vague feeling of being lifted before she once again lost hold of consciousness and slipped into the soothing oblivion of darkness.