[Entry 004]

I'm sitting outside my therapist's office forty minutes before my appointment's scheduled.

Usually it's a battle to get me here on time because it's one of those things I just hate doing but Kaidan and I are still not talking so I was resigned to take public transportation and abide by their schedule. The angry tension we had going has dissipated but neither of us has apologized and neither of us wants to be the first to concede we were wrong…and really I'm the only one that should be conceding anything. Kaidan was right; I'm entirely too stubborn.

I've been trying to work on that but I haven't been making any great leaps or bounds.

In this case I'm getting tired of sleeping on the couch and more importantly of sleeping alone. I like falling asleep with Kaidan's arms around me. I like waking up with my head on his chest. I don't enjoy waking up stiff and sore on the couch because I'm too stubborn to admit I was wrong.

I flip through a magazine but don't read any of the articles. I think it's the same one I flipped through last week.

I toss the magazine down with a sigh and look down at my feet. I'm wearing my prosthetic today—it's easier to convince the therapist that I'm making progress when I do. I should feel lucky. The prosthetic is state of the art and has full mobility. It's just not the same as having my real leg.

What are you whining about Shepard? You're alive. That's more than billions can say. I hate that voice in my head. I hate it because it's crass and it sounds like my father's voice and because everything it said was true.

I called my father just the other day. It was one of those weak moments when I had hit a particularly low point and my mother wasn't available and Kaidan and I still weren't on speaking terms. I should have known better.

"Shepard here." My father's voice had been just as gruff as I remembered.

"Dad, it's me."

There had been a long pause and I didn't doubt that he was wondering why I was calling. We didn't talk often and we weren't overly close. We shared the obligatory calls on special occasions when we had time. He had come to see me in London when I was still half drugged and confined to a hospital bed. The pat on the arm and bland "good job" was less than memorable as way of a reunion but it was a lot more than I had gotten out of him at any time prior.

"What do you need?"

I need to feel whole again. I need to feel like my old self. I need someone to tell me that it's going to be okay without me having to bare my soul to them. I know it doesn't work like that no matter how much I wish it did.

I don't tell him any of that.

"I just thought I'd call," I finally said. "I—I wanted to ask you something."

"So ask. There's no point in wasting time beating around the bush."

My courage waned. I had wanted to ask him how he got back to feeling like himself after he had been through the First Contact War. His squad had faced a no-win situation and only he and a few others had survived. He didn't talk about it and I had only heard about it when we had gone to a tribute for the fallen during my childhood. I wasn't sure how he'd react to my bringing it up now.

"When's mom supposed to be home?" I finally asked instead.

"There's no set date. Sometime next week was the last I heard. Look, kid, I have to get back to it. I'll have her call you when she gets back."

"Okay, thanks Dad. Love you. Bye."

"Yep. Bye."

The click as he disconnects is like the straw the breaks the camel's back, the back being my blind adherence to the belief I could get better on my own. It's been a long time coming. I realize just how desperate I must be to reach out to my father for someone to talk to. I'd have had better luck trying to talk to Aria T'Loak.

I can't be the old Shepard again if I don't let myself rely on someone. It doesn't make sense to me because I was always so self-contained, so self-sufficient. It doesn't make sense but I can't keep standing still. I have to dig myself out and that means I have to admit I need help.

I know it's not going to be easy but then not much has been.

Besides, it can't be any harder than defeating the Reapers, can it?