Fixed an error: During the beginning of ME3, Shepard is 32, of course.

The Normandy, one day after Kallini, en route to the Citadel

Activating the vidcom in the QEC, Dr. Chakwas bobs up and down impatiently. After a few moments, the console before her beepes acknowleding, and the hologram of a slightly tired looking Admiral Hackett appeares in front of her, the eyes in the leathery, scarred face wrinkled in surprise.

"Karin, is that you? It's been far too long! How are you?"

She manages a small smile, Hackett's voice invoking pleasant memories, but she's aware that her strained looks will betray her, anyway, so she decides to push to the subject immediately.

"Steven, it's good to see you. I'm fine, considering the circumstances, and I'm sorry I called that late in the evening. But, to be honest, this isn't a complimentary call. I'm calling you in my position as medical officer of this vessel."

"That doesn't sound promising. What's on your mind? Anything troubling with the crew?"

Hackett is slightly straightening, folding his fingers behind his back, his deep voice filled with curiosity.

"Well, the crew is exhausted and suffering minor wear and tear, but with a war going on, this is only natural, I suppose. Some of the crewmen are showing typical warnings signs, but I was able to contain major breakdowns, prescribing additional R+R, stims, sleeping pills and occasionly anti-deprissiva, but again, this not why I called."

Wrinkling her eyebrows, she opens a file on her datapad.

"This call is about Commander Shepard and my previous evaluation. Simply put, it has to be revised; her condition is growing worse, most likely caused by her increased stress levels. I strongly recommend to decrease the number of assignments and... You don't even know what I'm talking about, do you?!"

Her last sentence is an unbelieving outcry, caused by the confused look on Hackett's face.

Not enough he is destroying that poor girl willingly, he doesn't even care about her wellbeing!

This thought, combined with his next words, are enough to make her furious.

"I didn't have much time to spare for medical reports recently, Karin. Is there something wrong with Shepard?"

"Something! Something... Let's see...

I won't even touch the fact that she wouldn't even be in the sorry state she is, if the Alliance would have followed her warnings years ago. It's not that surprising, after all.

What surprises me more, is the Alliance keeping one of their greatest heros in isolation for six months, two of them chained in psychiatry! That face you make doesn't suit you, Steven, she told me. I'm surprised she's relatively sane after that. Six months without meeting or even contacting the one she loves, just because the Alliance needed a scap goat!

But what baffles me, Steven, is a commanding officer without the decency to inform himself about the medical status of his subordinates! But why would you? A weapon, that's all what that girl is to you, isn't she? Doesn't matter in what condition, as long as she keeps on fighting, right? Well, let me enlighten you..."

"Karin, that's..."

Hackett looks offended, but Dr. Chakwas cuts him off, shaking her hand, holding the datapad, towards the hologram wildly. Her voice becoming more and more enraged, she practically shouts into Hackett's face.

"The reason I called you was an alarming increase in the number and severity of soft tissue damage and stress fractures Shepard suffers from, caused by the fact you are throwing her into battle again before her body has fully recuperated from the last one!

She's a bloody mess, and I'm tired stitching her together, seeing fresh injuries between barely healed scar tissue, knowing the girl will get shot again before she has recovered from her most recent wounds! But that's only one symptome, let's have a closer look. You didn't have much time, after all..."

"Dr. Chakwas, that's not..."

She cuts him off again. Looking at her datapad, Dr. Chakwas starts reading Shepards medical file aloud, her words full of anger.

"Multiple badly healed combat injuries, we already had that. Starting skeletal decalcification, caused by a lack of vitamin D; hazard of profession for being a spacer. Well, here's something new: Immuno rejections of her cybernetic implants, a problem I believed to be solved seven months ago. Caused by excessive amounts of stress, who would have thought? Physical and mental exhaustion caused by sleep deprivation. Not surprising, after all. And there comes the good stuff: Various emotional traumata, including an existential crisis, survivors guilt and signs of PTSD. Flashbacks. Panic attacks. Tremors. Migraines. Propably nightmares. Her stress levels in combat are higher than everything I have ever seen and I haven't even started about the pressure she's under because of you ordering her to save the whole damn galaxy!"

Inhaling deeply, Dr. Chakwas forces herself to stop and calm her raging feelings. At least, Hackett seems to understand, the expression on his face stoic. Knowing him for 30 years, she recognizes it's a sign of him being deeply concerned.

"That bad?"

Dr. Chakwas sighs resignated, suddenly feeling extremly tired.

"Yes, and it's getting worse. Listen Steven, I well know what's at stake.

Under normal circumstances I would have declared her unfit for duty weeks ago, but we're at war, and that girl would never accept her well-deserved retirement now, anyway.

It's what she does: Helping everyone, forgetting about herself in the cause. She already won the Turians, the Krogans, the Volus, the Batarians and the Terminus systems for us and I'm entirely sure, she will get us the rest in time, too.

But, Steven, is it really necessary to burden her with even more assignments?"

Admiral Hackett scratches his scar thoughtfully, coating his next words in a soothing tone.

"I admire your compassion, I really do, but, as you said, we're at war, Karin. I know I'm throwing a lot at Shepard, but the simple truth is: She's the best we've got, and those assignments are important. We need every advantage we can get, otherwise humanity will be obliteratet."

"Then maybe we deserve to die!"

The old soldier is baffled, looking speechless after her passionate response.

"You don't mean that!"

"I'm entirely serious, Steven. At the moment, I watch a young woman, only 32 years old, working herself to death, and all you do is throwing more work at her. Don't look at me like that, Steven, it's exactly what's happening!"

"Karin, it's not that easy..."

"Bollocks! It is! It is that easy! If you need someone to do your dirty work, then send another N7. If one N7 is not enough to replace Shepard, send two. Hell, send four if you must, but don't ask the girl to do it!

She already got her hands full playing diplomat, solving the problems of anyone but her own. She needs a break, Steven. If you keep pushing her like that, it will be her death, sooner or later..."

Feeling heat at the corners of her eyes, she has has to sustain her trembling hands on the QEC's handrail.

I'm getting old. she realizes A live full of too much death and pain, too many lost friends. Steven has to undestand! I can't loose Jane, I can't loose the daughter I never had. I can't.

"You really care for her, do you?"

Hearing Hacketts soft question makes her feel weak and her head sinks to her chest. Dr. Chakwas says nothing, but she knows that is all the answer he needs. She just stands there in silence, feeling defeated and hoping the same time. If the admiral wouldn't see reason...

"Karin, maybe you're right. We can't afford to loose Shepard, and we didn't exactly treat her well in the past time. I will revoke her N7 missions, but I can't give her a break right now, her next assignment is too important. After that, however, I will be able to order the Normandy into drydock. One week, max. Make the best out of it, Karin. Hackett out."

The moment the vidcom goes dark is the moment Dr. Chakwas is sinking to the ground, breathing heavily in relief.

The captain's quarters are clad in nearly perfect darkness, the only source of light the dim, shining water of the fishtank, throwing blue, dancing spots over the cabin.

Shepard is lying on her bed, snuggling against the blue skin of her asari lover, both sleeping deeply. Liara smiles, purring happily every time her relaxed mind notices one of her bondmates soft little snores. Jane herself is not sleeping as well, her body moist of cold sweat, her eyes moving rapidly under closed lids.

She's dreaming again. She's dreaming every night. She's dreaming the one dream she keeps hidden from Liara, even after that particular night weeks ago, the night she came clear with everything but this. And after the events in the Ardat-Yakshi monastery these dreams are now richer of another detail, a picture missing up to this day.

Jane is standing in the heart of a dead forest, surrounded by grey, burned trees. She looks up into the sky, but black, suffocating smoke hides every inch above the tall trunks, forming a shroud of whirling darkness.

The only sound in this world of black and grey is the moaning and creaking of old wood, preparing to break under the weight of it's own rotting body, and the whispering of a ice-cold breeze, dancing between burnt needles and leaves.

She knows this place.

She knows who draw this picture of death and destruction.

She knows this is Aratoth.

Her feet start walking on their own, carrying her deeper into that graveyard of a once beautiful world. The cold breeze is growning stronger, freezing her. Feeling goosebumps on her skin, she is looking down her body.

She is wearing nothing but a white hospital gown.

Naked. Alone. Vulnerable. Helpless. Hunted.

Fear penetrates her mind, and she starts running. The soil is rough and full of stones and broken branches. Her bare soles start bleeding quickly, but she doesn't slow down. The pain is meaningless. She has to get out of this colorless hell!

The cold breeze follows her, carrying blackish mist with it. She runs faster, but she can't escape. Soon the mist is everywhere, the moist air steaming on her freezing skin.

She looks around, panicing, searching for an escape route. This is the moment the cold breeze starts to whisper, filling the forest with 304942 voices.

"Shepard..."

"Murderer!"

"My children, my poor children..."

"Shepard!"

"Why did you not save us?"

"Killer!"

"You hated us. Just like on Elysium!"

"Help us!"

"No! Not my wife, please, not my wife!"

"Shepard..."

"Mommy? Where are you? Mommy?"

"War criminal!"

"Please, I never had a slave, don't kill me..."

"Why?"

"Shepard!"

"You wanted to do it!"

"Butcher!"

NO! STOP IT!

Screaming out loud and covering her ears, she starts to run again, not able to bear it any longer. She stumbles through the whispering mist, but no matter how fast she runs, the accusations grow louder and louder.

Suddenly the voices are fading away. She is standing at the fringe of a glade, the mist caught between the trees behind her, unable to follow.

The reason is a spot of wonderful color in front of her, familiar blue banishing the swirls of grey and black.

It's Liara, standing there with an encouraging smile, waiting.

Shuddering in delight, she steps out of the woods.

The very next moment a thunderous, metallic battle cry resounds in the black shroud above her, and pillars of crimson fire are ravaging the glade.

Liara looks terrified, but she starts walking towards her, shouting and waving her arms.

Jane is running to protect Liara, dodging streams of red destruction on her way, but she is too slow. One of the beams is burning her, skin and flesh turned into bloody ashes at an instant. Pain forces her to her knees, but she keeps on crawling forwards, finally closing the distance between them.

Liara bends down to her, but something is not right. The Asari's big sapphire eyes are suddenly full of agony, her skin is growing pale, loosing it's delightful shade of blue. Liara's crest is growing and bony spikes are piercing through the sensible cartilage. Her head snaps back and the pained cry of a Banshee fills the air.

She wakes up with a gasp, her eyes wide in shock, her lungs burning for air as she surpresses a scream in her throat. Looking around, still slightly disoriented, Jane wipes her bangs from her forhead, the red strains of hair wet with cold sweat, her fingers shaking in an uncontrolled tremor.

A dream, it was just a dream...

It has become her mantra in the last few weeks. Turning her head, Shepard watches her bondmates peaceful sleep, in some way envious of the regular breathing and the small smile on the Asari's face. Liara still tries to help her, sharing some of the more unpleasant memories over and over again, soothing them with emotions of love and solace in the meld. It helps, but not as much as they both where hoping the morning after Jane's "coming out".

It's not that she doesn't try to get better. She really does. She eventually agreed to speak with Dr. Chakwas, taking medical help, agreeing to lie on a coach every four days, goddammit! But her dreams are coming back every night, draining her, leaving her weak and exhausted.

Feeling thirsty, Jane carefully croaches out of her bed, sneaking up to the bathroom with the intent of not waking her bondmate. She stumbles through the darkness, her bare feet walking over the thick carpet quietly.

At least now I'm sure, it's the real Commander Shepard slowly going crazy...

Hearing it from Liara had actually freed her from the disturbing dreams about an emerald-eyed EDI, but Jane quickly had noticed that this gave her mind only more space to create other demons.

A soldier with creativity and imagination, yes, I'm truly a freak of nature...

Chuckling quietly because of her morbid toughts, Jane opens the door behind her working space, hoping the whooshing sound wouldn't wake Liara. Dazzled by the glaring lamps inside the bathroom, she quickly adjusts the intensity to a dim twilight, relaxing her aching pupils. Turning her head around, she's darts a sad glance at the shades of two walls worth of ship models. The result of numerous long hours she could not find sleep. Finally she is pressing her teeth together in defiance and steps into the closet, closing the door behind her.

After a few long sips out of the faucet, she actually feels a bit better. Both hands rested on the sink, Shepard thinks about what to do next. Dr. Chakwas prescribed her different medications, but taking pills still feels like a confession of defeat to her. But she wouldn't find sleep now, otherwise.

Sighing resignated Jane is reaching out for the small cupboard behind the bathroom mirror, only to flich away from it the next moment.

For a second, her reflection in the polished metal has blurred, changing into the nightmarish visage of a Banshee. A Banshee with sapphire eyes. Still remembering the echo of the creature's screams, Jane stumbles to the toilet, suddenly feeling nauseous.

Coughing and choking, she sinks to her knees, throwing up her dinner, her stomach revolting until she has nothing left. Pushing herself away from the bowl, Shepard shivers, suddenly feeling freezingly cold.

Like in my dreams...

Sitting on the floor, she wipes her mouth angrily, feeling stinging tears in the corners of her eyes.

Her emotions are in chaos. How could she save the galaxy? It's Andersons fault, he shouldn't have nominated her in the first place. The rations are crap, that's why she feels sick now. Hackett is an ungrateful ass. Her crew works not hard enough. Cerberus is destroying everything she achieves. The Reapers are too powerful. Liara...

No! Liara, I'm sorry, I love you! I can't protect you, I'm not strong enough! I love you so much but I'll loose you...

A single, sharp sob escapes her chest. Pressing both her hands against her lips firmly, soon her whole body is shaking uncontrollably, and her face is glistening with tears.

EDI is busy. The truth is, EDI is always busy. Her processing power is huge, at least by human standards, and more than sufficient to process various tasks simultaniously. Not using unspent processing power would be a waste, and because of that, she is used to run multiple sub-processes at every time, especially at times with low sensor traffic, like, for example, a night shift after a non-critical mission.

At the moment, she is flying the ship, monitoring the Normandy's sensor feeds, actualising the navigational data feeds, maintaining life support (Shepard has been very specific on that topic), processing the complete collected literature regarding human relationships, watching recordings of Jeff visiting the Citadel with her platform, talking with engineer adams at the drive core, with private westmoreland at the war room and specialist traynor at the woman's communal bathroom.

She is also playing an extranet flight sim game, configurating her humor heuristics, and using her mobile platform to experiment with a new expert system enabling her to play practical jokes. And there is this particular subroutine, running for three days, processing an ancient piece of human literature called "War and Peace".

To say it shorthand, EDI is happy.

Her extranet game is just about to turn particulary interesting (a user account registered as "BuuMstik-QUaD87", originating from Tuchanka, is requesting a PvP-match), as her sensors in the Normandy's sanitation system notice an anomaly.

The Commander is in her bathroom, and according to EDI's sensor data, she has depleted a mixture of nutrients and traces of human gastric acid into the toilet. EDI is...concerned. Running diagnostics to exclude the possibility of poisening, she uses processing power from her literature studies for a more in depth monitoring of Shepards status.

The results are...confusing. Shepard seems to be in a state of significant mental stress, sensor data indicating similiarities to recent incidents. These incidents, although becoming more frequent in the past time, have always been mitigated by the physical presence of Dr. T'soni. Therefore EDI accustomed herself to inform the Asari whenever Commander Shepard experienced something referred to as a 'breakdown'.

But surveillance feeds are indicating Shepard's wish to hide this particular event from her partner.

EDI doesn't know what to do. She values her developing friendship with the Commander too much to endanger it by acting against her wishes. But at the same time, the most efficient way to help Shepard would require this path of action, with the possible outcome of a disagreement.

She feels...helpless. She hates this feeling.

After running several simulations without getting a satisfying result, EDi decides that there is only one possible way of taking action, and she activates her communication protocolls.

Shepard is still crying, sobbing into her hands quietly, as her omni-tool notifies her with an incoming call. The unexpected beeping and orange glow at her wrist are enough to make her jump.

Not enough that everybody wants something from me, they don't even have the decency to leave me alone when I'm feeling sick.

Forcing herself to calm down she wipes her face, proceeding with the task until her sobs turn into quiet sniffles. Breathing in deeply, she accepts the call, thankful for it being a simple voice message.

"Shepard, I have a question about human behaviour."

Still forcing herself to contain loud snivels, Jane stares at her omnitool, her mind still trying to process EDI's simple question. The timing was so silly, under different circumstances, she propably would have laught. But at the moment she was feeling cold and alone, and getting pranked was the last thing she needed now.

Is this some sort of cruel joke? It has to be.

Her chest tightens in anxiety as she waits for EDI's typical postscript. But, apart from Jane's own sniffling, the cabin remains quiet.

"Not the best time, EDI."

The AI seems to overhear the clue, or she simply doesn't care. Whatever it is, the connection stays active.

"Shepard, what is the socially accepted course of action for someone watching his friend being in a state of emotional turmoil?"

Jane suddenly feels even colder than before, ending the call quickly, but a few moments later her face is literally burning in heat. Completely and utterly mortified, she curls herself up in a ball, a new stream of tears moistening red cheeks as she slowly rocks back and forth. The shaking sobs are back, and so is the suffocating treadmill of self-hatred, sorrow and loneliness.

After several minutes, feeling like hours, Jane can't stand it any longer, overwhelmed by the need for someone to comfort her. It is stupid, considering the woman she loves is sleeping just a few quick footsteps away, but somehow Jane feels ashamed by the thought of waking Liara, just to seek comfort in her arms, again.

EDI wanted to comfort me, but I refused it. I shouldn't have ended the call like that...

Still curled up, she rolls herself over, resting her right cheek on the ground, her broken voice whispering towards the cold floor quietly.

"I'm sorry, EDI. I... I wished you were here... I'm sorry..."

Jane closes her eyes in defeat, sniffling sadly. As she opens them again, she notices something she hasn't seen for a long time: EDI's holographic avatar, a blue sphere sitting on top of a cone.

"EDI..."

Shepards breathy whisper is barely audible, but the single word is filled with surprise and relief, her puffy emeralds shimmering with tears of gratitude.

"I hope this manifestation is adequate. According to my calculations my mobile platform is unfit to visit you in person without the undesired side effect of waking Dr. T'soni."

"More than adequate. Thank you for being here... and for being a friend. It.. it means a lot."

Wiping her running nose, Jane manages a small, thankful smile.

"Considering our friendship, I am pleased to provide assistance. In the meantime I did research on how to 'cheer someone up'. I would like to give you a trial on my conclusions."

Suddenly the bathroom is filled with the soft music of a slow piano piece. Her eyes growing wide as saucers, she is feeling deeply touched as she notices the song. It's a piece she listend to countless times, over and over again. Although it's a sad melody, it's unseperable linked to her memories of Liara and Jane's love to her. It's her very favourite.

Feeling her chest tighten in emotion, she sits up slowy, resting her back against the wall. Jane's eyes are staring at the blue hologram fixedly, her vision blurring as she listens to the last fading chords.

I don't think anyone has ever done something so... thoughtful for me...

Swallowing heavily, she has to clear her throat a few times until she is able to speak again. Feeling very self-conscious, there is only one thing she is able to say.

"EDI? Could you... Could you play it again?"

"Of course, Shepard."

The song starts again, and for a while there is nothing, except music and two friends sitting together in peace.

The song is, of course, the one played in the time-capsule scene ingame (ME3 OST, "I was lost without you", from 00:55 min to 1:41 min)