Beta-read by Saberlin.
-J-
The rescued crew of the Normandy crowded together in one of the larger briefing rooms on the SSV Keflavik, waiting. Waiting, waiting, and waiting.
Alenko clasped his hands, knuckles digging into his forehead. Shepard had gone forward to get Joker…but they had not yet recovered his pod. With the escape shuttles so strung out, it could be hours or days before they recovered the last two crewmen.
They had to be okay—Shepard would throw Joker over her shoulder and throw him into the capsule (breaking most of the bones in his body in the process). It was not as though Joker could do more than complain if Shepard had to resort to those methods.
Frak Joker. Alenko did not often think in that direction, but he did now.
Tali was in the medbay, too. Suit rupture—they had Dr. Chakwas' assurance, though, that while the quarian was sick, she was in no danger of dying.
They'd lost Pressly and the number of dead would continue to rise until all the pods—especially one, the most important one—were found. Some twenty souls had passed, most of them sucked into the void when the ship tore open.
-J-
Word did not arrive until the next morning, during breakfast, that the last pod had finally been recovered. But something in the sterile way the announcement was delivered made Alenko's stomach fill with ice water. It felt like giving up to read into the simple statement that one or both of the missing marines were dead.
Shepard wasn't that kind of person; she couldn't be dead. All the things she'd survived so far…she was a survivor. She couldn't be dead.
Dr. Chakwas walked in several hours later, her face pale, pushing a battered-looking Joker in a wheelchair before her.
The pilot was in shock, utter shock. For a moment Alenko wondered if he even knew where he was, or who all the people looking at him were. "It's official," Dr. Chakwas' voice was low and taut.
Alenko closed his eyes. She had probably asked to be the one to deliver the bad news. Bad news like this needed to come from someone inside the fold—not some uniform they'd hardly ever met or heard of.
"Commander Shepard…didn't make it."
"No!" Tali, hoarse of voice and short on breath, got to her feet, hands splayed on the table. No one could see the wracked expression on her face, but her tone was more than eloquent. "How?"
Alenko's sense of the situation and responsibility for it began building up. He could reconstruct what had happened easily enough, especially given the cast on Joker's arm. Any other breaks could be associated with a rough landing, but Shepard would have had to grab the pilot to get him on his feet, much less get him moving.
"She never made it into the pod…" Joker's voice was almost unrecognizable. The haunted look did nothing to appease the resentment burning in Alenko's chest, nor did it quell the rising tide of ugly thoughts.
Pain began to pulse behind Alenko's eyes, then it was suddenly gone. He didn't realize it, but the pain had not vanished, it had simply moved out of his perceptual range, too large to process. It was the mental equivalent of having no feeling one one's hand, and putting that hand on a hot stove. The pain was there...he simply couldn't feel it.
This was Joker's fault. Shepard was dead, brave, compassionate, beautiful Jalissa…and it was Joker's fault. The cripple had survived while she had been snuffed out. Or burned up…the thought made him sick, though which was worse was not easily discernible.
"The ship fired on us…she never made it in."
"Because she was saving your ass." Tali was apparently the only one who heard Alenko's growled response. She put a hand on his shoulder, gave it a bracing squeeze.
It took a lot of effort not to shake her off. She was just a kid, just trying to help. But the longer Alenko looked at Joker, the angrier he got…he shifted his head as though trying to discreetly pop his neck. His headjack felt...funny.
His biotics weren't flaring...he was fine.
"They're still looking for her body. But she's either floating somewhere in deep space…or burned up upon reentry…" Dr. Chakwas' voice broke. Abandoning decorum she walked to the nearest chair, flung herself in it and hid her face behind clasped hands.
Dr. Chakwas had invested a lot of time in the ground crew. Williams' death shook her, too.
"I don't believe it." The voice again belonged to Tali, but the quaver in her tone indicated her words were of purest denial.
"Tali…" Dr. Chakwas looked up, her eyes tearless, but bloodshot.
"Shepard always said not to believe it unless there was a body. She was like that after Williams died, too. We can't give up on her. Not yet." But the quarian trembled as she said it, railing against the ugly reality.
"Tali…" Joker shook his head slowly, "last I saw, she was getting blasted across the cockpit as the pod…"
"Stop it!" Tali snapped. "You're thinking the same thing. If her suit was okay…" It was a flimsy argument, and it died on her lips. "…not until they find her body."
The silence in the wake of Tali's words was punctuated only by stifled grief.
Alenko found Joker looking at him and gave a huff. "This is your fault, you know." Was it hot in here? It couldn't be his amp overheating...he wasn't using it...
Joker blanched, but didn't deny it.
"Kaidan," Dr. Chakwas got back to her feet.
Alenko ignored her, attention fixed on Joker. The longer he looked at the pilot, the more he wanted to do something...extreme.
-J-
Dr. Chakwas looked hard at Alenko, her heart slowing, almost stopping. The sedative spray in her pocket felt icy in her hand. She couldn't help Shepard, but she could keep Alenko from showing the galaxy what loss could do to a stable L2.