Author's notes: Hey guys. Thankfully this chapter didn't take as long as the last one. It's not quite as long, but hopefully it's good. I have a couple people to proofread me now and help critique it, so hopefully things shall improve as we go.

I was somewhat hesitant at first moving forward with the romance subplot this early on, but after talking with one of the guys who reads my stuff, I figured, ah to hell with it. Some people seem to like it, and I don't think I'm going to run out of stuff to write, since this fanfic will run into the two year interval between ME1 and 2. So I'll give it a shot and we'll see how it goes. As far as a chapter estimate goes, right now I'm shooting for about 30 chapters, though that may change. Approximately 15 for ME1 and 15 for the two year aftermath.

Lastly, thank you guys for the reviews and adds. I was getting a bit discouraged until I read some of the latest reviews, and I felt much better about the way I've written it and my plans going forward. So thank you. It means a lot.

The Distant Past

Commander Shepard looked over a datapad in the captain's quarters of the Normandy. It contained an official Alliance personnel file. What the file revealed surprised him. He had decided to pick up Rettinger's file on a whim after he read the report on the geth boarding party simply out of curiosity and a desire to be informed. He had not expected the bomb it dropped on him. While cryogenic patients weren't unheard of, they were rather rare and most people never met one. It was even more rare for one to join the Alliance military; most were content to simply take the jobs offered to them and try to live a life as close as they could to whatever was normal in his or her original time. It was more rare still for a cryo patient to be such a talented engineer. The vast majority of cryo patients could hardly adapt to the technology used in everyday life like omni-tools, holographic terminal interfaces, and the extranet. To even suggest that one might know anything about the most advanced starship tech in the galaxy was borderline lunacy. Yet Rettinger probably knew more about Shepard's omni-tool than Shepard himself did, let alone about propulsion theory and FTL drive core technology.

A soft tap at the door tore Shepard's attention away from the datapad. "Come in. It's open," he said, already pretty sure who it was. Sure enough, the door opened to reveal Chief Engineer Rettinger. He snapped a salute as Shepard set the datapad down on his desk and stood.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" he said. Shepard nodded to him.

"At ease, soldier," he said, releasing John from protocol. John's hand dropped to his side and he seemed to relax a bit. Shepard gestured toward the round table in the middle of the cabin. "Have a seat, Chief," he said, grabbing a chair himself and sitting down. John sat down on the opposite side of the table from Shepard.

After a moment of silence, John asked, "So what's this about, cap? You want a report on what happened while you were on Therum?" Shepard arched an eyebrow.

"Why would you think I want that? I've already got the report you filed. I assume it's accurate." John recoiled slightly; the punishment for falsifying reports was severe in the Alliance.

"Oh, yeah it's accurate," he clarified. "I just… I dunno I assumed you had questions."

Shepard frowned and shook his head. "No, I really don't. It sounds like you didn't have a choice but to disengage the stealth systems, and when the geth boarded you did an excellent job fending them off, though I'm not entirely sure why Pressly chose you to lead the repulsion team."

"Me neither, really. I probably would have picked Garrus."

"Agreed."

"But you know how he is about aliens, so he picked the only human officer on the deck. That's my guess, anyway."

"Regardless," Shepard said, eager to get back to the topic he intended to discuss, "you did well, and I should probably recommend you for a commendation. You followed your orders, held fast under pressure, came up with a solid battle plan, and executed it, adjusting as the situation changed. And charging a damned prime… I saw a few of those things on Therum. They're fearsome. But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about." Shepard paused then, gathering himself. He had planned out what he was going to say, but it was still hard to ask a man about losing everything and everyone he ever knew and being thrust into a completely new reality. Hell, even the laws of physics had changed since the early 21st century.

So, steeling himself, Shepard opened his mouth and spoke, "I was looking over your personnel file…" but trailed off as John gave him such a meaningful look with such revealing eyes that Shepard couldn't say anything. For once, his eloquence had failed him. All he could do was sit there, slack jawed, mouth open slightly, looking at his chief engineer, and, as they looked each other straight in the eye, such an understanding passed between the two men that Shepard knew exactly what was going on in John's mind. John knew exactly where the conversation was going, and it seemed to cause so many emotions at once that Shepard couldn't comprehend the range of them. He saw the expected sorrow, despair, loss, and pain, of course. But those emotions were old, yet fresh at the same time. However, Shepard also found emotions that he hadn't expected that were newer and less adjusted to: hope, happiness, peace, and joy, even love. Shepard was dumbfounded. After several moments of the unspoken conversation, John looked away from Shepard and down at the table.

"I'm sorry… I- it's just…" he managed through a choked voice and watering eyes.

Shepard blinked. "Sorry? The hell are you sorry for, John? Few men could withstand that kind of loss and continue on as the same person. I can't say I feel your pain but… shit I should be the one apologizing for asking about something that personal."

John looked back up. "Well you aren't the first CO of mine to ask about it. I talked to Anderson about it too. I'm pretty used to it by now it's just… I've made so many friends in the past few weeks on board this ship. I guess it's put into perspective how much I lost when they pressed that button and froze me. I'm not really sure how to explain it."

That's it, Shepard thought when he heard those words. He understood then where those new emotions came from, and why they were so new. In the seven years since John had thawed, he had never gotten close to anybody. He had probably made friends on his ships, sure, but he had never let any of them get closer than arm's length. But now, on this ship, he had allowed himself to have friends and let them get closer to him than he ever had since thawing. It reminds him of what he lost, who he had. Shepard pondered what had made this ship different from the several ships he served on before. Was it Shepard? Not likely. They had a fledgling friendship, but he wouldn't call the two of them particularly close. He hadn't had trouble talking to Anderson about it. What had changed since then? The new crew, Shepard realized. He spends so much time in the engine room with Tali. They have to be becoming friends. And the way he talked about her when she first came aboard…

Finally understanding, Shepard said, "You don't have to explain anything to me, John. I understand."

"Thank you, sir," John said quietly.

"I understand if you don't want to talk about it, don't want to be reminded, but if you do need anybody to talk to, I'm here. You know I like to know my crew, so I'm happy to talk whenever you want."

"No, it's okay. I probably need to talk about it to somebody anyway. What do you want to know?"

Shepard decided to start with happy memories. "Did you have any family?"

"Yeah. Mom, dad, two half sisters, aunts, uncles, still had a grandmother when I uh… left. Had some cousins too, though I only ever knew one of them really well."

"Were you two close?"

"You have no idea. Closer than brothers, if you ask me. We used to get in fistfights in the back yard." John chuckled at the memory. "I broke his nose one time giving him a double kick while I was on the ground. I stood back up, and then he hit me in the face and broke my nose." John sighed and paused. After a moment of silence he continued, "I had planned on asking him to be my best man when I got married. Cancer threw a wrench in that plan, though."

"Is that why you did it?" Shepard asked tentatively. "You got cancer?"

"Yeah. About a month after I turned 18 in 2016 I went to the cardiologist for an MRI. I'd had cardio problems as an infant and they just wanted to make sure nothing was going wrong again. Turned out my heart was fine, but they found a tumor in my left lung. After some testing they found out that I had cancer and it had already progressed to stage four. It was pretty much a death sentence, because cancer had no cure at the time. The doctor presented me with two options. I could get traditional chemo and radiation treatments that wouldn't guarantee results. At best I might live five more years. Or, I could employ bleeding edge medical technology to flash-freeze me at near absolute zero and be woken up when a cure was found. My parents and I discussed it, and we decided that it was better for me to have a chance at a full life rather than have them drown in debt when I died in five years or less anyway. It seemed like the best choice-" John's voice cracked, and he put a fist over his mouth and looked down, trying to swallow the tears.

"What went wrong? Wasn't cancer cured in 2025?" Shepard asked gently.

John was silent for a few moments, but finally recovered enough to continue. "Bureaucratic mishap, apparently. They lost my record, and they didn't know when to wake me up, so they just let me go until the money we paid up front ran out, which was my entire college fund. I'm sure my parents tried to get me out, but since they didn't have my record they didn't know who was allowed to wake me up early. I can't imagine what that might have been like for them.

"Sometimes I think this is all just a dream, you know? Like any minute now I'm gonna wake up and it'll be like 2025 or something and I'm gonna crawl out of that damned tube and see my parents again. Then I'll go get treated and find the rest of my family. Find all my old friends, maybe play some basketball again like we're still in high school. And we'd all live happily ever FUCKING AFTER." John shouted the last two words, slamming a balled fist on the table. The shout seemed to echo hauntingly in the aluminum walls of the cabin, like the ship itself was lamenting John's loss. He put his elbow on the table and cradled his head in his hand, looking down at the table. He took a deep, shaking breath, and Shepard saw water dripping from his face. He had finally let the tears flow freely. He didn't sob or wail. He just let out the pent up sorrow through his eyes. Shepard stood and moved next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He didn't say anything, for nothing he could say would make it any better or any easier. The only thing he could do was be there, so that was what he did.

As far as John was concerned, it was all he needed to do.

Garrus' eyes crept open. He had been lying awake in the sleeper pod for a while, but had kept his eyes closed to see if he was going to go back to sleep. It was clear that he wasn't. He checked the time on his omni-tool. It was a few minutes before he had planned to get up, but he was awake so he might as well go ahead and get up. "Open," he said to the pod. The pod inclined to be nearly vertical and the door opened to admit him to the crew deck. He stepped out and stretched, hissing as the kink in his neck protested the movement. Rolling his head around, Garrus moved into the quiet mess hall. It was still early and nobody was up, save the guards who stood watch over the ship in shifts. He was surprised to find John sitting at the table, head down and asleep. Garrus chuckled at the unusual sight and began to make some dextro coffee. The popular human drink had been exported to other parts of the galaxy since the humans had appeared on the galactic scene, and, as it grew more popular across the galaxy, turian genetic engineers had created a dextro-amino acid version of the native Earth plant. It was gaining popularity among the turians as well, and Garrus had found himself drinking the highly caffeinated beverage increasingly more often to help get him started in the mornings. He started a pot brewing for himself and a normal levo-amino acid pot for the rest of the crew.

Garrus sat down to wait for the coffee to brew, and John stirred. He lifted his head and looked around with half-closed eyes.

"Morning, Sleeping Beauty," Garrus said. John mumbled something in response that Garrus' translator didn't quite pick up. "What's that?" he said, leaning in to hear better.

"The fuck did you just call me?" John said more loudly.

"Sleeping beauty," Garrus answered defensively. "That's the name of that human woman in that story, right?"

"Oh. Right, yeah that's the name. Sorry, my translator must not have translated properly. I thought you said something else." John rubbed his face with both hands. "I hate mornings."

"I couldn't tell," Garrus said sarcastically, standing up to fetch the coffee that had just finished brewing. He poured a cup from the dextro pot for himself and one from the levo pot for John. He returned to the table just as John began to stand up.

"I need some coffee," he muttered.

"Don't bother," Garrus said, setting a cup on the table in front of him. John looked at it confusedly for a moment before sitting back down and wrapping a hand around the cup, taking a sip.

"Thanks," he said.

"Don't mention it," Garrus said before taking a sip from his own cup. They were quiet for a time, each drinking from his cup periodically. "So this is a bit of an unusual bed," Garrus said.

"Yeah, yeah, I had a late night. I just sat down here for a minute, and I guess I fell asleep." John didn't look up to speak to Garrus. He just kept staring down into his steaming coffee as if it held the answer to some question he had been searching for his entire life. Something seemed off to Garrus. John didn't usually seem so melancholy. The grogginess was normal for John, as he wasn't much of a morning person, but something seemed to be bothering him on a deeper level, something that caused sorrow and pain. Garrus hated to see it. He considered John a friend and wanted to cheer him up. Getting an idea, he leaned in to speak.

"We'll be docking at the Citadel in a few hours. You wanna take some shore leave? Have some fun? I know Doran. He owns Flux, one of the better clubs in the Wards, so I can get us cheap drinks." John's face brightened a little at the suggestion.

"Sounds like fun. Been a long time since I've had a good clubbing night. Who else is coming?"

"Just me and you right now. We can bring anybody that wants to come, though. Kaidan would probably want in. Tali can come if she wants." At the mention of Tali, John's countenance lifted even more, and a mischievous smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Let's go get shit faced then."

John stopped at the navigator's station on the way through the CIC. "Pressly, we're taking leave," he told the XO, as Shepard had already gone ashore. He had business on the Citadel with Anderson and Udina. There was also something about a Nassana Dantius having a job for him? It sounded pretty shady to Garrus, but it wasn't his decision.

"Leave granted. The Commander wanted us to set off again at 0900 tomorrow morning, so just be ready to go by then."

"Understood. We'll be back sometime tonight, probably when the clubs close."

"Have fun then."

John nodded, and the group, which included Garrus, Tali, and Kaidan in addition to John, continued through the CIC to the airlock. The VI logged their departures, and they moved out of the ship, John and Kaidan in their Alliance civvies and Garrus in normal turian civilian apparel. They took a cab to Flux, talking and laughing as the automated skycar carried them to the Wards. They walked into the club and sat down at one of the round tables. Garrus sat with John on his left, Kaidan on his right, and Tali across from him.

"Hey, I'm just as much an officer as you, Lieutenant," John said in response to a joke Kaidan made about "real" officers. "I can wear the officer's dress if I want. I don't seem to recall reading in the protocol handbook that you can." He pointed a finger at Kaidan, smiling as he spoke. "Just because I'm an engineer… In fact I should be considered more of an officer. Tali, Jackson, and I are the only reason that big-ass hunk of aluminum can even carry you around."

"Point taken," Kaidan said, also smiling and tilting his head. "I owe you an apology, sir," he continued, knowing that John hated to be called that.

"Don't call me 'sir.' That's an order," John said, eliciting laughter from the other two at the table.

As Garrus laughed, a small, three-fingered hand came to rest on his left shoulder. He looked over to see a volus standing next to him, his other hand on John's shoulder.

"Garrus! It's been a while," he said, taking the deep breaths between each sentence that characterized the volus.

"Good to see you, Doran," Garrus replied.

"And who do we have here?" Doran asked, looking around at the others seated around the table.

"These are my friends. They serve with me on my new ship." Gesturing to each of them in turn, he introduced them. "This is John, that's Tali, and this is Kaidan."

"Ah, well welcome to my club! Any friend of Garrus' is a friend of mine! As such, the first round of drinks will be on the house tonight."

"You sure, Doran? You don't have to do that," Garrus said, feeling a bit embarrassed.

"Nonsense! I insist! It's but a fraction of what I owe you, Garrus, for all the help you've given me over the years. So what's everybody having?" Doran looked around expectantly. John spoke up first.

"You got any human beer?" he asked. "Been a long time since I've had a good lager."

"Certainly! We have Torkenbrand, Budweiser, and Sam Adams."

"Oh shit, they still make Sam Adams? Can I get a pint of that?"

Kaidan interjected, "Hey, that actually sounds pretty good. Get me a pint too, would you, Doran?"

"On tap or in bottle?"

"How do your bottles come? Do we get a frosted mug?" John asked.

"We have them, if you'd like it."

"I'll get that, then."

"I'll have it on tap," Kaidan said.

"Not a problem, gentlemen. What'll you have, Garrus?"

"The usual, Doran."

"I expected nothing less. And what about you, young lady?" Doran turned his head to Tali. "We have sterilized stock for quarians." Tali shook her head.

"No thank you, I won't be having a drink tonight."

"Come on, Tali, live a little!" John said. "The night is young! We're here to have fun!"

"I don't have the credits to spare…" Tali said unconvincingly.

"It's on the house! At least have a round." Tali sighed.

"Okay. I'm sure you won't stop bothering me about it unless I get one."

"That's the spirit!" John slapped his hand on the table. "One drink for the quarian lady, please, my good sir!" he said, looking at Doran.

"Coming right up. I'll be just a moment with all your drinks." Doran turned and walked away toward the bar, and the group continued conversing over the loud music from the dance floor. Doran returned after a few minutes carrying a tray with all their drinks. He set them all on the table. "Please don't hesitate to ask if you need anything else. Enjoy your drinks," he said before walking away again. John poured his beer into the frosted mug.

"Now that's how you serve a beer. It's like I'm back on Earth," he said. Garrus began to take a sip from his glass of turian liquor, but John stopped him. "Wait, Garrus," he said, standing up. "I propose a toast. Garrus, Tali, I assume you're familiar with that practice?" They each nodded an affirmation. "Then to friendships, new and old, to friends, new and old, and especially to the friendships present today. May they grow and flourish, strengthening the bonds between this band of brothers so that they cannot be broken, and the gates of Hell itself shall not prevail against them. And, to the first drink of our friendship. Cheers!" John took a gulp from his mug, the others following in unison. "Extra rounds are on me," John said, sitting down to protests from the others.

"So we put shavin' cream all over our coach's car," John recalled in a heavy southern drawl, "an' we wrapped it in plastic wrap. But then this lady comes outta her hotel room an' gives us KY, fuckin' KY, to put on his door handles! It was prolly the best prank I ever pulled on anybody. I wish I had a picture of his face when he saw that car."

"Sorry, but what's KY?" Garrus asked as Kaidan laughed at the story. John glanced at Tali, then leaned in to tell Garrus what it was so she wouldn't hear. "Oh, God! Damn, that's disgusting! And it was just some random lady you didn't even know?"

"Yup."

"And he touched the door handles?"

"Yup."

"Oh, that's gross."

"It was funny as shit, though."

"Hey, John, what's with this newfound accent? Why do you sound like a southern U.S. hick all of a sudden?" Kaidan asked.

"I grew up in the south, man."

"You've never had an accent before, though."

"Well if you hadn't noticed, Kaidan, I am completely hammered right now, so I imagine that might have somethin' to do with it."

"Good point."

John looked around and drained the last dregs from his beer mug. "You got any good stories, Kaidan?"

"Well… There was this one time I met Commander Shepard."

"No shit?" John interjected.

"And we went on this crazy adventure to save the galaxy."

"I'm drunk, Kaidan, not stupid," John said, a smile beginning to appear on his face.

"I'm telling you it happened. I met this smart-ass engineer, too."

"Yeah? I bet that engineer was a smart-ass cuz he was smarter'n you. I bet he was devilishly handsome, too, an' you were jealous of his looks, an' his charm, an' his way with the ladies."

"Ah, he was a good guy once you got to know him."

"Hmm. Thanks, Kaidan."

"Don't mention it."

John stood up. "I'm tired of sittin' here," he said. "This is a club. I wanna dance. Anyone care to join?"

Kaidan downed the rest of his beer and shrugged. "Ah, what the hell. Might as well live while I'm still alive." He stood up.

"You guys go on, I'll be there in a minute," Garrus said. "I wanna finish my brandy before I start waving my ass all over the club." Tali also declined, though likely it was more from shyness than anything else.

"Suit yourselves," John said, turning to the dance floor. As he and Kaidan walked away, Garrus took another swig of liquor. He worried about John. He was obviously using the alcohol to cover up something, to forget about some intense sorrow he had carried for a long time. John certainly wasn't an alcoholic; it was the first time he had even touched the stuff since Garrus had come aboard the Normandy. Still, Garrus couldn't help but wonder what it was that troubled John so much that he wanted to be drunk and forget about it because, as far as Garrus could tell, John was rather strong-willed. He had displayed that when the geth boarded the ship. Whatever it was, it must have caused him great pain and followed him wherever he went.

"Something wrong, Garrus?" Tali asked, interrupting the silence that had fallen over the table.

"What? Oh, no I was just thinking." Garrus glanced over his shoulder. "I'm a bit worried about John. He seems troubled lately."

"Agreed. I thought I was the only one that noticed." Tali replied. "I think it has something to do with his family, or his upbringing." Garrus gave her a quizzical look. Tali clarified, "When we first met, we talked to each other about our families. I'm sure he was hiding something, and when I brought up the subject he just sort of… withdrew. It was like he didn't want to think about it."

"Hmm, interesting," Garrus said thoughtfully. He turned and looked at John, who was busy making a fool of himself on the dance floor. That was something Garrus admired. The ability to have some fun and be an idiot without caring what anyone thought about it was something Garrus had yet to master. Suddenly, Garrus had an idea. He turned back around to look at Tali. "You should go dance with him," he told her.

Tali visibly balked. "What? Are you serious?" She began wringing her hands on the table. "He doesn't want me to dance with him. Besides, I can't dance, and-" Garrus interrupted her.

"Tali, it'll cheer him up, I promise. Trust me." Tali was silent but continued wringing her hands nervously. Garrus watched them as her fingers interlocked and moved in between each other, performing their own intimate dance on the table. "Come on, I'll go with you," he said, confident that it would lift John's spirits.

"Keelah, I'm going to regret this…" The lights behind her visor that were her eyes disappeared as she sighed and shook her head. "Okay, let's go."

John pushed upward against the bench press bar, struggling to complete his last repetition in the set. He grunted as he overcame the threshold and pushed the weight high enough to put it back on the rack. He sat up, working his arms to bring blood flow to his pectorals and triceps. He stood up and walked across the Normandy's weight room to the water fountain, bending over and taking a long drink. Ever since that night at Flux he had felt happier than he had been in a long time. It wasn't unusual for him to work out; he usually lifted at least three days a week to keep in shape, but since that night at the club nearly two weeks ago he had felt renewed and invigorated. He had a renewed desire to push himself harder. He made himself lift heavier weight and do more repetitions.

And some small part of his mind, a part that he continued to try and push away and silence, kept telling him it was to impress Tali. No. She's just a friend, he kept telling himself.

His surprise was evident when she had approached him and wanted to dance. He simply hadn't expected it from the shy quarian girl he had grown used to working with. But he accepted the offer wholeheartedly, and they danced the night away. John had no inkling of the length of time for which they danced. All he cared about was that they danced. Occasionally Garrus or Kaidan would appear next to them, sometimes having found their own girl to dance with, sometimes going solo, but they always got lost in the crowd again. Tali and John stayed together the entire time. An unwitting smile lifted the corners of his mouth at the memory.

John lay back down on the bench and began lifting the bar again. One… two… three… the mindless count put his thoughts on hold. He heard the door hiss. He glanced over to see Shepard standing in the doorway. "Shepard," John grunted, "give me a second." He reached the ninth repetition and the weight stalled halfway up. John pushed harder against it, but made little headway. He gave it everything he had, then. His face twisted into a snarl, veins and cords in his neck popping out as he strained against the weight. It began to rise slowly. He barely managed to fully extend his arms. He set the bar back on the rack and stood, saluting the Commander. Shepard returned it.

"John, I need you for a mission," he said, getting right to business.

"What's that, cap?" John said, curious about what would require a chief engineer to deploy on a ground team.

"You're certified for the Mako, right?"

"Yes sir."

"I need you to come with me on the next mission to show Garrus and Tali the ropes. Why Anderson only picked one person for this crew that knew the Mako is beyond me, but there it is."

"I can do that. Where are we deploying?"

"On Casbin, in the Hong system of the Armstrong Nebula. Just a bit of surveying, nothing heavy. I might take you on a combat mission later so they can get a feel for that, but for now mineral survey will do."

"Sounds good. When do I need to be ready?"

"Gear up and meet us by the Mako at 1400 hours."

"Yes sir."