Y'all reviewers are lovely, lovely creatures who make me keep writing even when I feel stuck.

A note: Like so many people, I have my own headcanon ending. In it, the Reapers are destroyed, but the Geth and EDI live. The Mass Relays are partially damaged, but not beyond repair. Shepard dies, though. Just FYI.

Lying still in a hospital bed for weeks had to be Jack's least favourite activity ever. Particularly since she had to lie on her stomach, due to the deep wounds on her back. It was uncomfortable, it was boring, and she hated not being able to have an overview of the entire crowded room, it made her feel nervous and vulnerable.

Once she'd known nothing vital had been damaged, and that she'd make a full recovery, the vain part of her, which she usually tried to deny existed, had cringed at the thought of her tattoos. She'd always acquired scars easily and rarely given them a second thought, but these were going to be massive.

Goddamn fucking brutes.

"Your barriers were weak, ma'am."

"I hate you, Rodriguez." Then she added, less gruffly: "How's Prangley?"

"Oh, the doctors said he'll get an artificial leg. They seemed very confident that it'll be just as good as... well. One of his eyes couldn't be saved, though. And he's still a little shell-shocked."

Jack had known her long enough to hear that there was more going on.

"What's wrong?"

"He says I shouldn't waste my life with a... a cripple."

Jack huffed.

"Has he looked around? Half the galaxy has died and the rest of us haven't exactly gone unscathed."

She turned her head as far as it would go, but all she could see was the young woman's torso.

"Give him time, he'll come around."

"I hope so."

She dropped down beside Jack's bed and looked at her with a small frown. She seemed so much older these days, Jack thought.

"Rodriguez?"

"Ma'am?"

"I'll never admit I said that, but I'm proud of you."

"Thank you. I never wanted to be a soldier, I'm not staying with the Alliance. Rebuilding is much more like it. But I couldn't not have fought. And you, ma'am... you helped a lot."

"Alright, enough with this maudlin stuff!" Jack sighed.

"How are you, ma'am?"

"If boredom could kill... They won't let me go, a broken femur is a bitch, or so I've been told. And my back is itching like hell all the time. Not complaining, though. I live."

Not that she knew where to go, anyway.

"Do you need anything? Not that there is much I can provide. Another novel, maybe?"

"Fuck, no, one more romance story and I'll puke. But thanks, Tina."

Rodriguez rolled her eyes.

"Suit yourself."

Jack had a hard time falling asleep in the hospital. Too many people, too many noises. She could ignore the pangs of pain and the itching, but not the mutters and the snoring and the screams and the shuffling and the crying all around, at any time. She didn't know much about the state of the galaxy, news travelled slowly these days. Communication and travel between systems had become difficult, though not impossible. As far as she knew, people were still trying to assess the damage. It appeared Shepard had died to save them all, that much she had heard. Even though no one could tell what had really gone down. She couldn't say how she felt about that, so far she'd managed to force her thoughts away from the topic whenever they happened to stray too close.

Most of her students had survived. She had survived.

It was more than she'd hoped for.

It had to do, for the time being.

. . .

She did what she could, and what needed doing. Miranda had always had a talent for organisation, and while there was too much bad blood between her and Alliance brass for her to even consider joining the military and for them to ever accept her, they came to a slightly wary, but mutually beneficial arrangement. Whatever contacts she still had, whatever resources and intel she managed to gather through dubious connections, she put it all to good use, in exchange for a place to stay, and the bare necessities. It was not quite the same thing as being an information broker, but similar. She was the central node in a widening network, but without the secrecy, without agents, without demanding payment. Just gathering information and taking inventory of resources – essential things, provisions, construction material, medical supplies, unassigned workforce.

Just making life a little easier for everyone.

Atonement, perhaps.

And maybe someday, a certain name would cross her desk. She'd put out some feelers.

But for now, she couldn't be selfish. Her father was dead, Ori was safe.

It was all she'd ever hoped for.

Seeing a familiar face was quite a shock. The memories that surfaced at the sight of Kasumi, sitting nonchalantly on her desk one morning, made her tremble.

"Hey Miranda!"

"I didn't even know you had a forehead."

"Don't tell anyone." Kasumi winked. Then she slid off the desk and hugged Miranda, who returned it, to her own surprise. She even fought the urge to look around and check if anything was gone.

"I'm so glad you're alive," Miranda said, and meant it.

"Same here."

"Is this a social call?"

"Pretty much. I heard your name and, well, it's always nice to find out someone has survived."

"It is."

Kasumi fidgeted quite unlike herself.

"You don't happen to know anything about anyone else?"

"I saw Jacob once," Miranda said with a small smile. "He was injured in the final days of the war, but nothing that can't be fixed."

"Thank you," Kasumi all but sighed.

"He also has a wife and by now probably a child."

"I know." Kasumi laughed. "I gave up on that long ago. I actually met her. Brynn. I didn't even manage to be resentful. I'm way too nice."

Then she grew serious again.

"Any news on the Normandy?"

"Nothing but rumours."

There was a heavy, mournful silence.

"So, what does a master thief do on a planet that lies in ruins?" Miranda asked quickly.

"Tech skills are always needed. I haven't officially joined the Alliance, but I, uhm, advise. You seem to have a similar arrangement."

Miranda nodded.

"They don't trust me, but they've realised I'm quite useful. Until things have calmed down, at least."

"Do you have plans for dinner?"

Miranda raised an eyebrow.

"The same as every night, eating meagre rations by myself in the back room."

"Care for company?"

"Sure."

It had been so long since she'd talked to anyone about anything that wasn't work or war-related, she had almost forgotten how to do that. But then, hardly anything they could talk about wasn't war-related, one way or another.

"I don't regret it."

"Why should you? That man was a monster. Good for you that you killed him," Kasumi said resolutely. "Any news on your sister?"

"Last time I heard, the colony I left her on was doing well. Better than this giant heap of rubble. Communication between systems is still frustratingly slow."

"Working on that," Kasumi muttered.

And then they started reminiscing, which was very strange, because Miranda hadn't been aware that she had so many fond memories of her time on the Normandy, and all of her crew. She had left most of it unexamined before, afraid it might hurt too much. She couldn't believe Shepard was gone. And she knew she'd missed out on making friends with amazing people because she'd kept everyone at a distance for too long.

Almost everyone.

"I miss Jack." God, but it needed saying.

Kasumi gave her a speculative look.

"So there was something between you, after all. You had me wondering there."

Miranda rested her head on the knees she'd drawn up to her chest.

"It was all wrong. I was. We were both so damaged." She sighed. "I promised her a date after the war."

"This I have to see."

"I have no idea where she is, or if she's even still alive."

"She was stationed in Barcelona, last time I heard. Before the end of the war."

Miranda stared at her.

"How do you know?"

"I'm working with a woman who was at Grissom Academy. Octavia. I mentioned Shepard once and she asked if I knew Jack. 'That crazy lady with the tattoos.' Said her biotic friends had been needed on the mainland, a few weeks before the end of the war. But she hadn't heard from anyone since."

"Barcelona."

Miranda's head spun.

"Wow," Kasumi said. "You really do like her. You actually look like you might faint. Please don't."

"You have no idea how much that means to me."

Kasumi tilted her head to the side and gave her a pensive look.

"You've come a long way, haven't you?"

Miranda merely shrugged. She didn't like thinking about who she used to be, much less talk about it.

"I suppose. But right now, I've no idea where I'm going."

"To Barcelona."

Miranda averted her eyes.

"What if she's dead?" she whispered.

"I don't think anything can kill Jack."

"That's what I thought about Shepard..."

"Yeah. I know." Kasumi sighed. "Still. Better to be certain, right?"

"I suppose..."