Disclaimer: I use some of the in-game dialogue in this fic, no copyright infringement intended. I do not own Mass Effect, I just borrow the world and the characters to get them out of my head and put them somewhere else.
"SHEPARD!"
That muffled scream… After that, she could hear nothing but her own heartbeat and heavy breathing. She thought by now her eyes would get accustomed to the darkness, but she still could not see anything. Maybe there just isn't anything to see, said a small, cruel voice inside her head. Her heart sank. She wanted to scream, she wanted to cry, but she had no voice, no tears; not anymore. Then she realized that she wasn't hearing her heartbeat or breathing. Everything started to fade away; her memories, her purpose, everything that she was; gone.
She simply was no more.
Joker sat alone in his room. The communication terminal kept flashing. "Five new messages," said a mechanical voice. It was probably Anderson again. I shouldn't have come back here, he thought. I should have stayed on the ship. But with the Normandy gone, the Citadel was the only place left where he could feel close to what he had lost.
It had been 18 months since they'd held the memorial service for Commander Shepard. It had been hard on everybody, but they weren't the reason she was dead. He'd tried nevertheless, to live, to help finish what she'd started; but they had succeeded in breaking his spirit. By ignoring her warnings, by being so damn indifferent about everything she had fought so hard for, by doing nothing but pretending none of it ever happened. No one would listen to them, so they had given up, one by one. Wrex had gone to Tuchanka, Tali had returned to the flotilla, Liara was on Ilium doing god knows what and Garrus had disappeared from the face of the galaxy. Normandy's surviving Alliance crew was reassigned to new posts. He too was reassigned three times before he was grounded, and the only thing that stood between him and a military discharge had been Councilor Anderson.
He'd wanted to fly. He felt suffocated on the ground, and he had tried to adapt to his new posts but flying alone wasn't enough anymore. He'd missed the Normandy, he'd missed having a purpose and he'd missed her. Even Ashley had moved on, but he… He hadn't been able to.
Not until Cerberus had contacted him two months ago.
They'd told him that they believed Commander Shepard's warnings and they were determined to do something about it. That they aimed to help the people the Alliance and the Council kept ignoring.
It hadn't been an easy decision, joining Cerberus. This was the organization which conducted horrible experiments on people, including Shepard's own unit. What would she think?
But Shepard was gone.
He'd have to do something sooner or later, besides being miserable all the time. Maybe this way he could make a difference, honor her somehow; or at least pay his debt to the galaxy for getting their would-be savior killed.
He still had his doubts on a daily basis, but he was flying on his own terms with Cerberus; so that was something.
He had no idea how long it'd last or how badly it would end; for he was certain that it'd eventually end badly; but it would do for now.
Another thing he knew, he didn't want to face Anderson; not today. Today all he wanted was to remember, and to forget.
"Delete messages," he said as he opened up a new bottle.
Joker opened his eyes and looked around. He was lying on a bed, his head heavy and his vision blurry; but he was too familiar with the hospital smell to think that he was anywhere else.
"Congratulations," he heard someone say, "You've finally done it."
He squinted and confirmed that the blur standing over him was Dr. Chakwas.
He tried to straighten up but his ribs and his left arm hurt like hell. Arm fractured, ribs bruised, he thought, assessing the damage. He distinctly remembered his drunken trip to the pool and falling from the stairs on his way down.
He let his head fall back to the pillow. "What are you doing here?" he asked, closing his eyes. "I thought you were staying on the ship."
"You didn't really give me a choice," Dr. Chakwas answered coldly. "You were unconscious when they brought you here."
She sat beside him. "What were you thinking Jeff?" she asked with genuine concern. "You were lucky you got away with fractures! How much of what did you drink? You could have died out there!"
"Yeah, that would be such a shame," he murmured, looking away. I can't even mourn her properly.
"Don't talk like that," said Dr. Chakwas. "Get some rest."
"Yeah, ok," said Joker, turning his head to his side. He was annoyed at the thought of keeping himself safe for other people's sake.
"I'll see you on the ship," said the doctor and stood up. Joker remained silent as she walked to the door, and he heard her stop and sigh.
He glanced and saw that she was standing there, facing the door.
Dr. Chakwas turned her head over her shoulder, looking down. "I have some very important news for you," she said gravely. "But I need you on your feet first."
Back on the Cerberus cruiser, Joker made his way to the med-bay. He sat down in the chair in front of Dr. Chakwas' desk.
"All right, I'm here and I'm sitting down. What's this about?" he asked.
Dr. Chakwas sighed. Joker hadn't been the easiest person lately; not that he ever was; but he had transformed from grumpy to plain hurtful in the last couple of months.
Her hands trembled as she put them on the desk, and the look in her eyes made Joker nervous.
"What is it?" he asked again, this time a little worried.
"I'm sorry I couldn't tell you about this earlier..."
"Just get to the point, please!" yelled Joker, his annoyance now shifting towards panic. He was convinced that something terrible had happened or was about to happen.
"It's Commander Shepard," said Dr. Chakwas.
Joker's shoulders sagged and he held his forearm, where he'd been feeling a sharp pain every time he heard her name since her death. He could deal with the pain, but the memory it brought was another story. 'Watch the arm!' The last thing I actually said to her. Watch the arm.
His brows twitched as he shook his head. They must have found her at last.
"Where?" he demanded, thinking that he knew what would come next.
"She's alive, Jeff."
Joker gave Dr. Chakwas a blank look.
"No she isn't," he said automatically, but it sounded more like a question than a statement.
"She wasn't," said Dr. Chakwas, not knowing how to explain. She herself hadn't been able to wrap her head around the incredible achievement yet. "But she is now. Cerberus recovered her…" She stopped. 'Her body' or 'her remains' didn't sound right in her head. "They recovered her," she rephrased, "and they've been rebuilding her using cybernetic implants where necessary." She paused and looked him in the eye. "She isn't conscious and no one knows for certain if she's going to make it or not," she said with a momentary professional detachment.
Joker sat silent for a while, giving the information time to make sense.
"How long have you known about this?" he finally asked.
The doctor rubbed her forehead with both hands before she spoke.
"When Cerberus first contacted me, I told them that I wasn't interested. A week later they contacted me again. They had these recordings and progress charts…" her voice trailed off.
"Have you seen her?" asked Joker. His mind desperately tried to hold on to something it could make sense of. Seeing could be believing.
"I'm receiving regular updates on her progress, but no. I don't even know where they're keeping her."
"I want to see her."
Miranda Lawson had strongly objected to accepting visitors at Lazarus Research Station, but the Illusive man had insisted. As a man with the resources and persistence that could bring a person back from the dead, he didn't need to explain his actions, but he had nevertheless.
"Shepard will need people she can trust when she wakes up Miss Lawson. We want them to stick around. I know you have other ideas to keep her committed, but I could have found a capable soldier to do everything as I say anywhere. What humanity needs is more than just muscle." He took a drag on his cigarette.
"I trust you'll make the necessary arrangements."
Joker didn't know what he'd expected, but this most certainly wasn't it.
All he could see behind the glass was a human body with red lit cracks throughout its skin's surface, hooked up to a bunch of machines and tubes. He couldn't even tell if this was Shepard or not.
"It is her," said Dr. Chakwas quietly, as if she'd read his mind. "I have her files. I've compared the DNA from a tissue sample."
Joker didn't take his eyes off the figure.
"It is her, Jeff," Dr. Chakwas repeated. She wondered what his reaction would be if he had seen the holos she'd seen from the first month of the project.
Joker didn't say anything. Not at the station, not on their way back. He couldn't even feel anything for some time. But when he did feel again, it was an avalanche of emotions. First he was overwhelmed with joy. She was alive; she was breathing. She could wake up any minute and be in their lives again.
But fear crept up on his hope. What if she stopped breathing? What if she died, again? There was nothing he could do to prevent it. All he could do was to wait. He was useless.
But Cerberus couldn't have come this far just to let her die. And they had come this far. How was this even possible? They could do this? What else could they do?
Joker slowly breathed in and out to calm himself down as one forgotten emotion made its way back to him.
He hadn't noticed that his guilt had been slowly fading until now. But when he pictured the broken body that was Shepard on that table, it came back; burning as bright as it did the moment he was helped out of the escape pod and saw the questioning faces of the rest of the survivors.
I did this to her.