Recovery

Pain spread through Shepard's abdomen. Hard as he tried, his tired muscles would barely respond. His nerves tingled, and he could feel hot and cold flashes spread and disappear all over his body. A bright light was shining through his eyelids, and he turned his head, trying to escape it. Female voices spoke in hushed tones. One young, one old and familiar. Both of them possessed foreign accents.

"Miranda?" John groaned.

"I'm afraid not, Commander."

John forced his stinging eyes open. He was in the Normandy's medical bay, lying among several different soldiers, none of whom he recognized. The white light which had been burning his eyes resolved into the Normandy's incandescent ceiling lights. The medical bay was filled with wounded soldiers, at varying levels of health.

Chakwas' relieved face appeared, giving him a thorough examination.

Shepard groaned again. "What's going on?"

The doctor looked across the med-bay and delivered an order. "He's awake, Traynor. Fetch James, would you? And message Admiral Hackett." She looked back down at him and smiled. "We won, Commander. The Reapers up and left in the middle of the battle. Only a few minutes after you activated your beacon."

John stared up at her, trying to fire his brain up. "They're gone?"

"They left." Chakwas reaffirmed. "They ignored the fleets and disappeared. I have no idea why, or where they went. I was actually hoping you could shed some light on that."

John grimaced.

"Not at the moment, obviously." The Doctor observed. "It was touch and go for quite a while, John. Your wounds were extensive and critical. I've no idea how you made it at all, to be perfectly hon- don't move."

John let the doctor push him firmly back down onto the uncomfortable gurney. From what little he'd been able to see, they had hooked him up to every conceivable medical device available. He had no idea what half of the technology did, and wasn't particularly interested in learning.

He raised a heavy hand and gestured weakly at the surrounding soldiers. "Who are all of these people?"

"Casualties. It's been three days since you first landed." Chakwas told him. "The Normandy has been acting in support roles, including patching up the wounded. We are one of the few human medical bays capable of treating Turian, Krogan, and Quarian patients."

"Three days…" John mumbled, trying piece together his vague memories. There had been a… a child. On the citadel… And the Illusive Man… Anderson was dead…

John gave up and let his eyes close, sleep overtaking him. Some things could wait. As he drifted off, he heard the faint hiss of the bay door. Chakwas show his shoulder gently, bringing him back. "Commander…"

He turned his head away from her, and towards the entrance. James was standing there, looking sorrowful. Within his arms was an item John knew all too well. And he knew immediately what it meant.

A beaten, well-worn Turian Kuwashii visor. Ten names had been carved onto the frame in primitive Turian lettering, with an eleventh scratched out. The item had been bent heavily out of shape by something either very strong, or very heavy. Or both. It was stained with dried blood, dark blue in colour.

"Shepard…" the lieutenant strode forward awkwardly, stepping past several of the wounded soldiers and coming to a halt a foot from the edge of Shepard's cot. Vega seemed to be searching for something to say. He was holding the visor with the same formal air that a soldier would have when carrying a folded flag at a military funeral.

John reached out with a trembling hand and wrapped his fingers around the cold metal.

"I'm sorry." James told him honestly as Chakwas watched in silence.

John set the visor down on his chest and stared at it, a hollow, deadened expression on his face.

"Krogan squads only took it back yesterday." The soldier reported. "We were sent in to clean up any remaining resistance. I found it near a downed Mako."

"Where's the body?" John asked, rubbing Sidonis' scratched out name with his thumb.

"There wasn't one. Just his visor and a whole lot of blood." James reported. He spotted the hope in Shepard's eyes and shook his head. "That doesn't mean much, sir. We didn't find much of William's body either; that Reaper was accurate. Besides that, the husks swarmed that area after Hammer failed. Anyone who survived Harbinger would have been killed by them. To the best of our knowledge, you are the only survivor."

Shepard closed his eyes, screwing his lids tightly shut, trying to block the world out. Chakwas reached down towards the relic. "Commander, perhaps you would allow me to clean it-"

"Don't!" John recoiled, snatching the object from her grasp. His voice cracked slightly. "Don't touch it!"

Chakwas sighed and exchanged a mournful look with James. "We'll let you rest, Commander."


Liara stared across the spacious hall. It had been a foyer before the war. An extravagant testament to the power and prestige of the law firm it belonged to. The building around it had collapsed, but the foyer itself was intact. Relatively clean. It had been turned into a makeshift hospital. The giant bay windows, starting at a height of about ten feet, and rising all the way up to the ceiling, had been smashed. Blown out by the myriad of explosions. Mass effect barriers had replaced them now to keep the dust out. Even as the Asari stood at the entrance, she could hear the generators one floor below, chugging tirelessly to keep them up. They were colored in orange, yellow, and periwinkle blue. The bright sunlight shone through them, giving the impression that she was walking through a church with stained-glass windows.

The hall was covered in beds and cots, most of which were occupied by groaning soldiers of all races, and a few civilians. Word had got back to the few remaining human refugees that Earth was in the process of being retaken, and more than a few ships had arrived back, carrying civilians, much to the military armada's frustration. Any civilians that landed had been conscripted and set up in clean-up duties.

The Asari scanned the bay and spotted her destination: a small cot in the far corner, somewhat separate from all the others. It had a curtain around it- left wide open- and a small bedside table. The cot's occupant had propped himself up on a set of pillows, and was reading an open book on his lap.

As she approached, her path was blocked by a swarthy human sergeant, armed to the teeth.

"It's alright." The patient said. The guard moved aside and allowed her to pass.

Shepard looked somehow both far younger, and far older than he had the night they had landed. Around his eyes and mouth, the worried creases which had so thoroughly taken root over the past year were fading fast. Liara realized that she had never seen John Shepard without them. Not even in their younger days, chasing Saren.

He looked younger. Healthier, despite his injuries, and when he greeted her with a smile, his eyes were as sharp and thoughtful as they ever had been.

She took a seat at the foot of his bed. "Hello John."

"Liara." He replied, folding up the novel and setting it carefully on the bedside table. "How are you?"

"Bruised." She answered, rubbing her shoulder, "But I will pull through."

"What happened?"

"A brute got the better of me." Liara shrugged. "I am fine."

"Good." He nodded. "That's good."

"I am sorry I did not visit sooner, but there's been a lot of confusion..."

Shepard shrugged. "I only woke up yesterday anyway. This wasn't what I was expecting to see, but…" he gestured at his modest accommodations. "I made the most of it."

"You shouldn't have been moved from the Normandy." Liara said severely. "You were on your deathbed only six days ago."

"The Normandy has one of the few Med-bays capable of treating the critically injured." John said. "I'm not critically injured anymore. It made sense."

Liara smiled. "Shepard, have you ever made a selfish choice in your life?"

"One or two." He replied. His face softened and he pointed over her shoulder.

Liara followed his gaze. A mother was sitting on a nearby cot, a small child curled up in her arms, fast asleep. An off-duty marine, very clearly the father, was sitting with them, stroking the child's hair gently.

"That's what I fought so hard to see. I wasn't about to give it up."

Liara frowned. The words clearly meant much to him, yet from her perspective it seemed to have come from nowhere at all.

"Care to explain, John?"

"I just… stuff happened."

"On the citadel?" Liara prompted. Rumours had spread like wildfire about what the man had been through. It seemed common knowledge that he had somehow convinced the Reapers to leave. One of the reasons Liara was unhappy about him being moved off the Normandy was the sheer amount of inane questioning she felt he'd encounter. It wasn't good for a recovering patient. Especially one who had been through so much. Her eyes strayed carefully to the Turian visor, which Shepard had placed on the small bedside cabinet.

"I'm sorry about Garrus and Ashley, Commander."

Shepard reached over and gently lifted the visor off the table. He held it in his hands, staring down at the engraved names. "He told me that if there's a heaven, he'll be waiting at the bar." John's voice was frail, clinging to the Turian's promise.

"You're an atheist Shepard." Liara reminded him.

He nodded silently.

"Anyway…" The Asari decided to show some mercy and change the subject, "Do you have everything you need here? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." He replied distantly. "I'm a little surprised Hackett hasn't dragged me out for questioning."

"He has a lot on his plate." Liara lied. She had, in fact, been running interference, trying to hold off the moment when John would have to revisit his experiences.

Shepard nodded. Once again his eyes strayed off to focus on another cot, near the center of the hall. A wounded Marine had struggled out of bed to embrace a young woman. The man pulled away and drew her into a long, passionate kiss. He probably wasn't even aware of it, but the look on Shepard's face told Liara all she needed to know.

"I'm sure she's alright, commander." She assured him.

"Can you find her, Liara?" he asked. "Please? I want to know she's alive."

Liara smiled. "I will do my best, John. I'm glad she means so much to you."

Shepard nodded again, his eyes still lingering on the happily reunited couple. "We all fought this war for something, Liara."