[Flashback: 16 years before ME1]
(TRIGGER WARNING: SEXUAL ABUSE)
Rain beat down on the steel stairwell above Shepard's head, the only sound in the cramped alleyway. Her unseeing eyes were staring at the ground beyond her meagre shelter, at the raindrops adding to the puddles in tiny splashes, and at the trail of crimson that was being washed down into the gutter. The child beside her had not moved nor spoken. Occasional sniffles told Shepard that she was still crying - had been for over an hour now. The pistol was still clenched tightly in Shepard's slender hand, useless with all its clips spent, but somehow it felt like the only thing in the world that could protect her.
Gloom overtook the waterlogged alleyway as the sun went down. Shepard could no longer see the blood stains on her hands and clothing. Eventually she heard the chattering of teeth coming from the young girl huddled next to her. Shepard looked at her for the first time since taking refuge beneath the stairwell. The little thing was hugging herself in an effort to keep warm, dressed only in her underwear, her bare feet caked with mud. Wordlessly, Shepard pulled off her own jacket and draped it over the child's trembling shoulders.
None of the other girls had remained. They all had families and homes to return to, people who were worried about them. But this child - she could barely be ten years old - had followed Shepard away from the brothel, all the way to her crude abode in the dark alley between the pawn shop and the condemned apartment building. She had not spoken since the rescue. Neither of them had. The thought of a girl so young having suffered what she had suffered herself only months ago made Shepard feel sick to her stomach. Even a few years older as she was, Shepard could not purge the memories from her mind, could not unsee those grisly scenes. How must it be affecting the child?
Adjusting her grip on the pistol to alleviate some of the ache that she'd realised was setting in, the dark-haired girl glanced at the little one.
"Do you have family?" her voice seeped into the rain.
The child shook her head. Her filthy auburn hair was plastered to her cheeks with rain and tears.
"Where are you from?" Shepard asked her. "Where's your home?"
Barely louder than a squeak, the reply came: "I don't know…"
"Do you know how long you were… at that place?"
Another shake of the head.
Shepard sighed. The kid was traumatised - and, judging from the bruising she'd seen on her body, injured. She did not understand how grown men could do such things to one so small and defenceless. A stubborn girl like Shepard, who had known abuse and violation long before the men had taken her, had at least been able to fight. It had taken them two days and nights to break her, for her to submit to their will. This child had probably been too frightened and inexperienced to even understand what they wanted with her.
"It's okay," she whispered, laying a hand on her shivering arm. When the child flinched, Shepard drew her hand away. "It's okay now," she repeated gently. "They won't hurt you again."
For the first time, the tearful blue eyes looked up at her.
"Because you hurt them?"
Shepard's fingers tightened around the butt of her pistol. Her gaze returned to the ripples of rain upon the puddles.
"Yes," she replied quietly.
