A/N: I've decided to post this chapter a day early as a means to procrastinate from editing my novel. Enjoy!
The days started to flow together. Shepard gradually became more comfortable around the civilians, hanging out at the tables before and after meals. She got to know many of them by name. Rarely did a day go by that she didn't hear one or more of the children playing, pretending to be her. It was pretty entertaining hearing the feats they could come up with. Hard to believe, but her story was growing with the telling.
Most of the adults treated her with a quiet, friendly deference.
Despite both of their protests to the contrary, she and James were widely considered to be together. In pretty much every sense of the word.
Over the space of a week or so, they had taken to sharing her bed. In the most boring way possible. One or both would get nightmares almost every night. They'd discovered if they slept back-to-back, all it took when one of them started to get a nightmare was for the other to reach back and shake them. It kept the dreams from getting too bad, as well.
So they'd fallen into this peculiar pattern where they worked side-by-side all day, slept literally touching each other at night, and were rarely more than a few feet away from one another, but aside from all that physical closeness, were simply friends.
She'd come to rely on him being close. He was a steady presence when memories or emotions threatened to swamp her. Just seeing him was enough to calm her when the panic rose up. She wondered if he'd be insulted that she was using him as her personal PTSD support dog.
James kept a small communicator hidden in the back of a drawer. He made up an excuse to get away from the apartment without her and gave progress reports to Admiral Anderson via videofeed once a week. He was glad to report that she seemed to be opening up; enjoying the company of the people around her and even smiling once in a while. She wasn't out of the woods yet, but she was better.
The crew had finished with clearing and repairing the first building. The catalogers reassigned furniture, moved almost everything back into the now-safe, functional, and clean building, and had begun assigning permanent residences to families and moving them in. It was hectic, but it was freeing up room in the hotel for new volunteers.
The grunts had cleared an ever-widening crisscross of streets. Only three weeks after Shepard had reluctantly arrived to help the reclamation efforts, it was now a common sight to see civilians walking along the streets. There were four buildings within short distance of the volunteer quarters that were now full-up with families that had been relocated.
It was slow going, but they were making progress. Life would be hard, but it would go on.
Shepard stood at the side of the street they'd almost finished clearing, sipping from a water bottle as the thought suddenly struck her. She hadn't seen the rebuilding of Mindoir. The Alliance had evacuated her, and she had requested foster placement on another colony. They had obliged out of concern for her mental stability. She wondered if this was what it was like to watch your home rebuilt. Her face split into a broad grin.
"You smile like that Lola, I don't know whether to join in or run for cover."
"I was just thinking about how it must feel to have your home destroyed and rebuilt. Then I remembered: I actually know exactly how it feels." She rubbed the sweat on her forehead off with her sleeve, leaving a large dirty smudge in its wake.
"Mindoir?" he asked.
"Nope. Normandy."
James cocked his head. "Makes sense."
"It's the one good thing Cerberus ever did."
"I could argue that fact, Commander."
She shrugged, moving back into the street and taking a good look at a steel beam that lay across the pavement. "I died, James. Joker refused to leave the cockpit as the Collector ship ripped the Normandy in two, and I had to drag his sorry ass out of there and stuff him into an escape pod. Pretty sure I broke his arm in the process. The Collectors came around for a second pass and all I had time for was to hit the eject button. The impact from the blast ruptured one of my air lines and I suffocated to death while falling into the nearest planet's atmosphere."
James had turned a sickly shade of grey. His eyes were wide and he stared at her, half-crouched to pick up a piece of debris.
"I died, James. Cerberus took two years and billions of credits to bring me back. I didn't ask for that. I never wanted it. It's not the way I would have chosen to go, but I saved one of my crew and I'd damn well do it again if given the chance." Her face hardened into a grimace as she tested the weight of the beam with her hands. It didn't budge. "Then I wake up two years later, on a table in some lab with alarms blaring and someone yelling at me. It actually got worse from there, believe it or not."
She stood back up, wiping her gloved hands on her cargo pants. Walking around the debris, she checked out the beam from another angle, trying to figure out the easiest and safest way to lift it. "I died a hero. 'Savior of the Citadel', and all that. By the time I woke up again I was already considered half-insane and a terrorist. 'Traitor' and 'war criminal' would get added to the list of my crimes later."
Shepard looked James dead in the eye. He just stood there with his mouth half-open as she spoke. "The rumor that I was working with Cerberus circulated before I even woke up. Who do you think was responsible for that?"
James blinked out of his shock. "The Illusive Man spread those rumors about you?"
"Bingo. Separate me from my allies, tell me there's a threat that's not being handled, give me a crew that's loyal to me and rebuild my ship to boot? How could I refuse?" She ended her tirade on a mocking high note.
James let out a string of expletives in Spanish. He stood to his full height, hands clenching and unclenching impotently. "I had no idea he was that manipulative."
"He was responsible for the deaths of the soldiers in my unit on Akuze. Do you know how desperate he had to make me before I was willing to work with him? Can you imagine following orders from someone who killed dozens of your friends as a fucking experiment?"
She stood back, motioning the other crew who were working nearby to do the same. Their exchange had gathered a bit of a crowd, workers finding some reason to work within earshot, and as quietly as possible to boot. She raised her hands, the blue nimbus of her biotics crackling with power. The beam slowly lifted. Sweat beaded on her forehead. Her heart raced. She shook with the strain of lifting so much weight. Shepard could feel the heat at the base of her skull that told her she was straining her biotics. Ignoring it, she moved the beam down the center of the street towards the massive refuse bin. When it had ten feet or so to go, she launched it hard into the bin with a resounding crash.
The men around her stared. If there was anything Shepard was known for among them, it was her biotic precision. The most they'd heard from anything she'd moved in the last three weeks was a soft thud as she set it down.
She turned on James, face red and eyes blazing. "I owe that son of a bitch nothing! I didn't ask to be brought back. I think I earned my right to rest in peace. He stole that from me. So when I say that the only good thing Cerberus ever did was build me a new Normandy, I goddamn well mean it!" With that, she stormed off towards the hotel.
James let her go, figuring that pushing the issue further would likely end in bodily harm. Probably his. He'd talk to her later, after she calmed down. If she calmed down. He got back to work, stomach roiling at the thought of what she'd just told him. He'd had no idea.
He almost wished he didn't know now.
Shepard didn't return to the worksite that day. She reached the hotel without realising where she'd been headed. She stood there, shoulders heaving as she focused on just breathing in and out. She vibrated with suppressed rage. Red tinged the edge of her vision. She couldn't be here.
She had to get out. Now.
She found her legs steering her to the nearest empty street. Too much. The anger, the pain, the emotion was all too much. It had to go somewhere. So she poured it into her legs, her arms. They pumped, coursing with adrenaline as she burst into a sprint.
She didn't care where she went. Only that she was alone. And stayed that way. Before long, she found herself running over and around rubble in streets that hadn't been cleared yet. Good. The more wreckage, the fewer people.
Half-collapsed buildings. Yawning craters. Crashed ships. Here, this was the world she'd made. Because this is what she was made for. Death. Destruction. Devastation. There was nothing of peace or happiness or rebuilding here. Her lungs burned. Her legs ached. Her eyes stung from the dust and something she refused to name. Yet still she pushed. Harder. Faster. More. Maybe if the pain in her body reached the magnitude of the pain in her soul she could finally find peace.
Sunlight didn't reach to the streets here. Long shadows. Dust. Broken buildings looming over the streets below. Here was the city the Alliance didn't want the civilians to know about. The devastation was impossible to hide. It was like running through her nightmares. The scenery matched her mood perfectly.
She ran until there was nothing left. And when she hit the end of her stamina and her strength, when her legs collapsed beneath her from one step to the next and sent her crashing into the dirt…
She cried.
The sobs that had clawed at her throat for hours this afternoon finally burst free. Crumpled in a heap, tears pouring down her face, a keening cry coming from some desperate place deep inside that she'd buried for so long…
She cried.
James pulled the communicator out of his dresser and headed up the ladder to the roof. Ensuring he was out of sight behind an array of solar panels, he set the device on a ledge and set it for Anderson's personal line.
When Shepard hadn't returned an hour after she'd stormed off, he had excused himself to go find her. By that time enough of the other workers were worried enough to tell him to go.
It took only a couple of minutes to get a response.
"Lieutenant Vega," Anderson's voice came over the comm a half-second before his face appeared. He was casually attired in a t-shirt and an annoyed crease occupied the space between his eyebrows, "I wasn't expecting a report for another four days."
"Sorry Sir," James replied. "I wouldn't bother you, but Commander Shepard has gone missing."
The Admiral's eyes widened in alarm. "Missing? For how long?"
"About an hour and a half. She got to talking about Cerberus and the conversation got a bit heated. She stormed off and hasn't been seen since."
"I take it you've looked in all the obvious places?"
James was relieved the man wasn't going to treat him like an idiot and waste both of their time.
"Yes, Sir. The last she was seen was in the courtyard outside our quarters. She set off into the city."
Anderson nodded. "EDI, can you trace her omni-tool?"
"Already on it, Sir. Co-ordinates at your secondary display. Life signs normal," came a feminine voice.
"EDI?" James asked. "I thought you were out of commission."
"I was indisposed. Fortunately Mr. Moreau found a back-up I had hidden in his 'recreational extranet' files, and a team has been restoring my functionality."
"Good to have you back," James replied earnestly.
"Thank-you, Lieutenant," the pleasant voice replied.
Anderson read off the co-ordinates. "Think you can find her?"
"Absolutely. There is one thing, though. She said the rumors of her working with Cerberus circulated before she actually woke up. Is that true?"
Anderson squeezed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "Yes. I wasn't aware she knew though. I should have known she'd figure it out."
"So Cerberus manipulated the Alliance into thinking she was a traitor."
Anderson's shoulders slumped. "Yes. And we fell for it."
"You didn't, Sir. You're the one person who's had her back through everything. She knows that."
"Go get her, Lieutenant. Give me a status report as soon as possible. Dismissed."
The feed went dead.
James stowed the communicator back in his dresser and went to find the Commander.
Terry approached James as he exited the hotel. "I heard there was an altercation and Shepard is missing?"
James held up a small tablet with the co-ordinates on it. "I pulled some strings and got her traced. I'm going to get her now. If that's okay?"
Terry slid his hands into his pockets and rolled up on his toes. "Whatever happened between the two of you, is it going to cause problems in the future?"
James took a step back, shaking his head. "No, no. You got the wrong idea. We didn't get in some lover's spat. I just brought up some shit from her past she hadn't dealt with yet." Rubbing the back of his neck, he added, "I didn't expect her to react like that."
Terry tapped his bottom lip with his forefinger. "It's my job to make sure the work gets done. When you have people walking off in the middle of the day, work doesn't get done. I'll need to talk to her about this when she gets back."
"If you leave it 'til tomorrow she'll come talk to you," James replied.
"Oh?"
"Shepard won't like the fact she walked out today. She'll come make sure you know it won't happen again. Bet on it."
"Fine. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. See that you get her back in one piece."
"Yes, Sir. Let the others know they don't need to search for her, and I can start early tomorrow to make up for the time I lost today."
"You've worked hard. I have no problem with you taking a few hours for personal reasons. That being said, the other men who work streetside with you would likely appreciate the effort."
James nodded. "I've wasted enough of your time. Go get her, son." Terry patted him on the back and walked back to his truck.
James double-checked the datapad and set off to find the missing Commander.
The light was starting to fade by the time he found her. She was sitting on a crumbled curb with her knees pulled up against her chest. Her arms were wrapped around them and she stared off into space. The only indication he had that she registered his presence was a sigh and a couple quick blinks. She didn't so much as look at him as he sat down next to her.
Dirt clung to every bit of exposed skin he could see. It had stuck to the sweat as she'd run and dried on her like a second skin. A smudged, cleaner path down her cheeks betrayed her emotional breakdown from earlier. He rested his arms on his knees, feet flat on the street in front of them, with his shoulder just touching hers.
James just sat there next to her, listening to her breathing and watching the evening encroach. When he felt a shiver through her bare arm, he finally spoke up. "We should head back, Lola. You're getting cold. You haven't eaten in too long."
He was right. She hated when he was right.
She groaned as she pushed herself to standing. Her knees wobbled from that little bit of exertion. James stood next to her, reached into the pocket of his cargo pants, and pulled out an energy bar. "Probably tastes like shit, but I think you might need this." He handed it to her.
She opened it as fast as she could with shaking fingers and ate half of it in one bite.
James smirked as the bar bulged Shepard's check. Her jaw worked as she tried to chew the too-large bite. "You know 'bite off more than you can chew' is supposed to be a metaphor, right?"
She flipped him the bird. After the herculean effort of chewing and swallowing, she added, "Metaphor? Should be my goddamn motto."
"C'mon. Light's fading. They're probably worried about you back at home base." His stomach growled loudly. "Man, I hope they saved something for us."
"I'll pull rank if I have to," Shepard replied grimly. "If I don't get a lot of food in me, and soon, I'm going to be completely useless tomorrow."
They set off slowly, Shepard's legs shaking with each step. She took her time with the second half of the energy bar, nibbling as she walked. James didn't bother offering to help. He had enough scars, thank-you-very-much. If she needed it, she'd ask. Either that or she'd pass out and he could just carry her. Unconscious people had this nice way of not arguing.
She found her stride within a couple of minutes. Her legs hit autopilot and they made their way back to the hotel at a brisk walk. "James?" she turned her head to catch him out of the corner of her eye without slowing.
"Yeah?"
"How did you find me?"
He shrugged. "Pulled some strings to get extranet use. Asked Anderson to trace your omni-tool."
She nodded. "Always knew he was keeping tabs on me."
"Likely. But for the record, there aren't many devices left that can be pinged via extranet in this area, so they probably could have found you regardless."
"Good point." She nodded.
"EDI sends her regards, by the way."
She stopped. "EDI's back?" she asked, hope shining in her eyes.
He smiled. "Yep. They found a back-up she'd left in Joker's porn, if you can believe it."
She blinked hard. Her lips quivered as mirth burst from her lips, a long peal of laughter that echoed off the buildings around them.
It may just be the best thing James had ever heard.
She laughed long and hard, until tears poured down her cheeks and she clutched her stomach. "Oh, God. That is just too perfect. Except for the fact than when he thought she was gone, he probably wasn't in the mood to look at his 'personal encrypted files'."
"Yeah, if she'd hidden it somewhere else we could have been home weeks earlier."
She patted him on the shoulder. "You made it back. That's all that matters." Chuckling to herself, she started walking again.
"Umm, Shepard?"
"Out with it, Vega."
"You're going to need a shower."
Shepard looked down at her arms, exposed by her sleeveless shirt. Dirt was streaked over them. She detoured to a nearby building and wiped a swath of dust off an intact pane of glass. There were two clean-ish tracks running down alongside her nose, but everywhere else was dark and smudged with grease and dust and dirt. "I was planning on it anyways. It's our night."
"Picked a good day to get dirty then."
"Apparently." She was starting to shake again. Her blood sugar was getting low.
"Couple more blocks, Lola. Almost there." He moved closer, walking shoulder-to-shoulder with her, just in case.
Those last two blocks seemed interminable. It was all Shepard could do to stay upright by the time they arrived in the courtyard. James pushed her gently down onto the first seat they came across. "Sit. I'll bring food."
She was too exhausted to even argue. Which had him beyond worried. He rushed past curious faces and the closed up dinner trailer into the hotel lobby. Lucy greeted him from behind the desk.
He turned to see her waving him over. "Got something for you," she said smiling. She picked up two covered containers from behind the desk and set them on the counter. "Some Admiral guy called and asked me to make sure we set aside enough food for you and the Commander. Sorry it's cold."
"Thank God. Cold food is still food," he replied, grabbing the two stacked containers.
"Does she really eat that much?" she added, wide-eyed.
"It's the biotics. High caloric needs," he replied with a smile and a wink, turning and heading back out.
Shepard looked close to sleeping at the table, resting her elbow on it with her head in her hand.
"Not yet, Lola. Food, shower, then sleep."
"Yes, Sir," she mumbled sarcastically, dragging the platter over and raising the lid. She grabbed the cutlery inside and proceeded to devour enough food for three grown men in under ten minutes.
James' portion was less than half hers and still enough to fill him up.
They left their dirty dishes with Lucy with a brief but heartfelt thanks, and trudged their way up the four flights to their room. Shepard went straight into the washroom. When she didn't close the door or come back out in a couple of minutes, James moved to the doorway to see what she needed.
She stood next to the tub, staring into the shower. "I want to be clean, so badly," she said. "I just can't get the energy to take my clothes off and climb in."
He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. "You have two minutes to take your clothes off and get into the shower, soldier, or I take them off for you and join you."
Her head whipped around to meet his eyes. Hers were filled with shock, his with amusement. "Figured that would get your attention. Go grab some clean clothes. I'll turn the water on. Couple of minutes and you're clean and you can head to bed. Go."
She followed his directions on autopilot. The warm water in the shower felt so good. She didn't linger, quickly cleaning herself and getting back out. She dried herself off and pulled on her clean clothes. Mumbling something as she passed James, she pulled her amp out and placed it in the case, flopped clumsily onto the bed and was snoring in under a minute.
She'd earned a restful night. Too bad the universe wasn't feeling generous.