Hello again! This will probably be my last update until the weekend is over (I have a paper to do, sorry!) so this will have to tide you over until Monday!

Still can't believe I'm already on Chapter 9! Never thought I would keep doing this for this long!

Still don't own Mass Effect.


Bright… Sterile… His eyes adjusted slowly to the bright light and he blinked, trying to dispel the spots dancing in his vision. He sucked in a breath as pain blossomed on the side of his face, even that small motion sent another dagger of agony. Spirits, he felt like his skin was melting off. Where was he? His eyes roamed and he took a careful breath—less pain, he could bear it—to take stock. It was a medical bay, that much was clear; white, clean, and smelling of chemical sanitizers. And blood. The scent of his blood hung in the air and he barely held down the urge to gag; he was sure his shredded body wouldn't have survived the violent reaction. Well, he was alive. His brow furrowed and immediately, he regretted it. A wince contorted the undamaged side of his face as the right side screamed in protest. How had he gotten here?

What had happened?

He scoured his brain as he stared at the ceiling, trying to conjure something—anything—to explain his current situation. He remembered holing up in the apartment, picking off mercenaries as they tried to overrun him. Tried to kill him. Automatically, his mandibles twitched and he growled; none of him seemed to be unscathed. He was alive though, so something must have stopped them. But what?

Shepard. The image of her striding across the bridge flew to the front of his thoughts, only to be replaced by the memory of holding her in his arms. She was alive. She'd come for him. So what happened?

Gunship. His heart sped up and the monitor beside his bed followed in kind, drawing the attention of a human woman at a desk that he hadn't noticed.

"Oh good, you're awake," she said with a smile, "You had us all worried, Garrus."

He managed a small smile with only a minor ache. "Dr. Chakwas," he replied, but his voice was hoarse and barely above a whisper, "I'd say it's good to see you but—" He grimaced and raised a hand to his face. Spirits, it hurt to talk. Well, luckily, his arms worked. His talons ran over the bandages carefully and she nodded apologetically.

"If I'm here, you're in bad shape," she finished for him, bringing over a glass of water and two white tablets. "For the pain," she added in response to his questioning look.

He grunted his thanks and swallowed them carefully. Spirits, he was a mess. "How bad?"

The way she shifted and wrung her hands said volumes. "It was touch and go for a while. Miranda pulled some strings to get the blood we needed to keep you alive. We were able to correct most of the damage, and your plates should grow back but…" He waited and she finally met his eyes. "We had to add a few cybernetics so you would maintain use of your right side. And there will be scarring. Your face took the worst of it, I'm afraid."

He gave a small laugh, ignoring the protest from his carapace. "I can deal with being a bit less pretty, doc," he said, twinkle in his eye. The drugs had kicked in and the words flowed with ease, "Maybe give everyone else a chance to resist this great pile of handsome." He was alive, and Chakwas was there. Euphoria was starting to kick in. That meant…

"Glad to see your humor is intact," she replied, smiling. He could see her relief and that gave him pause. The doctor had always been stoic; it must have been really bad. "The commander will want to know you're alright."

"Shepard?" He couldn't keep the hope out of his voice and his subharmonics trilled excitement.

Dr. Chakwas nodded. "I had to force her to leave when they brought you in. Stubborn girl would have slept on the mess table if Jacob hadn't made her go to her cabin." The doctor's eyes softened and she added, "She's worried about you."

The wry quip she'd expected never came as he stared at his hands, flexing his talons absently. "How did she end up with Cerberus? And you?"

Dr. Chakwas leaned back against one of the counters and crossed her arms loosely. "The Illusive Man put billions of credits into recovering her body and bringing her back to life. I followed because I couldn't leave Shepard knowing she was alive."

"Why would Cerberus spend so much to reanimate her?" He immediately regretted the question—he sounded ungrateful—but he had to know. Why Shepard?

"Not reanimate, resurrect. Exactly as she was. The Illusive Man wanted her mind and personality, not just her body. He wanted humanity's best for a mission only she can accomplish." Garrus snorted and she continued, "Colonies are disappearing and Cerberus thinks the Reapers are involved."

"And the Council won't listen, of course," he grumbled talons bunching the sheets over his legs. The Council had been so quick to discount Shepard's claims about the Reapers, and after she'd… left, it was like Sovereign had never existed. Bastards. A rush of anger pulsed through him, but he pushed it away. If anyone could do it, it was Shepard, Council be damned.

"Shepard doesn't like it, but she doesn't have a choice. The Reapers are a bigger threat than Cerberus." Dr. Chakwas glanced at the door and he smirked.

"Expecting someone?"

"A certain crazed human female that cares too much for others and not enough for herself."


Shepard woke with a start, sitting bolt upright in her brightly lit cabin. She scowled; how'd she get here? She remembered sitting on the Crew Deck, drinking and thinking—too much of both, if her headache told her anything—but then what? A vague memory of Jacob insisting she go to bed and helping her to her cabin made her flush with embarrassment. Well, that conversation would be awkward. She stood quickly and immediately regretted it, falling back to the bed with a groaned curse.

Jane Shepard was hung over.

With greater care, she stood and limped to her shower—her leg had healed nicely, but not entirely—and set the temperature almost as high as it would go. The hot water pounded into her body and the sensation—any sensation—was welcome. Warmth, pain, nausea… Alive. She could deal with that. Dried blood and grit sloughed off of her skin and she grimaced. The bed was going to need new sheets—burn the ones on it currently, she didn't care. It was short, but the shower was a moment of peace. Nothing could bother her there. But it was over too soon—as always—and she quickly threw her uniform on without looking in the mirror. She didn't want to see the Cerberus emblem on her chest. It was just a reminder of how wrong everything was.

"Commander, Jacob is waiting to debrief you in the comm room."

"Thank you, EDI," she sighed, brushing her damp hair behind her ear. More than anything, she wanted to go straight to the med bay and see Garrus—maybe he would be awake—but that wouldn't do. She was the commanding officer, she had to be responsible. Damn responsibility.

The elevator lurched and began its descent at an achingly slow pace. Only one floor and it still took five minutes to get there; even Cerberus couldn't make an elevator that moved faster than a legless varren. She snorted at the thought as the doors opened and she strode through the CIC, through the armory, and into the comm room. Jacob looked up and gave her a half smile before coming up to salute her.

"Commander."

"At ease, Jacob. You know how I feel about that," she rubbed her temple and willed her head to stop pounding as she continued, "Besides, after last night, I'm surprised you have any respect left for me."

His eyes sparkled and he chuckled. "You saved the galaxy, Shepard." She grimaced, tired of being reminded but he continued, "And you've done a lot more. A lot happened yesterday, you can't be faulted for one night in the face of your sterling record."

"Right," she grumbled, leaning on the table, palms flat against the cool surface. She almost wished she'd lost some of his respect, then at least she'd feel less like they were deifying her. "Well, what do we need to do?"

"Just talk, plan our next step, which I would recommend being to acquire the professor," he replied casually and she nodded. "Plus, I figured you'd want an update on Garrus, considering your history." He could see her shoulders tense, but she didn't move, didn't speak. "We've done all we can, so the rest is up to him. We had to implant some cybernetics, similar to yours, and he should regain full functionality. But…"

"Shepard."

He head snapped up, but she didn't turn, fingers curling under her palms into fists. Her heart sped up and she tried to calm it, tried to brace herself for… whatever this was. She turned slowly and took in the sight of him silently. Everything she felt flashed across her face before she settled on a smile.

"No one will give me a mirror. Be honest, how bad is it?"

She let out a laugh that was too loud and too happy, but she didn't care. Even the ruined side of his face was a welcome sight and she saw a smile creep into his eyes. You're alive and beautiful and loyal and wonderful and—She forced her thoughts to a stop and shifted her weight into her hip, folding her arms loosely over her middle.

"Hell, Garrus, you were always ugly. Slap some face paint on it and no one will notice," she replied dryly, but her eyes were laughing and his good mandible spread in a grin as he took his turn to laugh.

"Oh… Don't make me laugh. My face is barely holding together as it is. My pride can't handle any more damage."

"Then don't catch rockets with your teeth," she retorted sarcastically.

"Some women find facial scars attractive, Shepard. Mind you, most of those women are krogan…"

Jacob coughed and saluted quickly, "I'll leave you two, then." Shepard nodded and Garrus watched the man retreat with a neutral expression. When their eyes met again, neither said anything as eyes roved, each checking the other for damage. Satisfied, he closed the space between them and hugged her close, catching her off guard.

"I almost didn't believe it was you on Omega, but then I wake up on a Cerberus ship with Dr. Chakwas standing over me and… Spirits, I'm glad it was you." His flanging voice dropped in pitch at the last part and she wrapped her arms around him. Her cheek rested against his chest and suddenly, she felt safe; something in the way his chest rumbled as he purred into her hair was comforting. Wait, purred? She considered teasing him about it, but that would mean ending the moment and, well… It could wait. "Shepard, I—"

"I was so scared that I was too late," she whispered to his cowl and his arms tightened, "And then you were just… lying there…" He started when her fist struck his armor—thankfully, she missed the cracked and broken parts, so it didn't hurt—and tried to look at her face but she wouldn't meet his eyes. "Don't you ever do that to me again; do you understand me, Vakarian?"

He couldn't help but laugh. "Anything for you."

She looked up at him now and her expression softened. There. That was the Jane he knew. So why was it so hard to find her sometimes? He traced a talon along the glowing scars on her cheek and he saw the commander mask slide back into place. Cut off, he almost shook her, to try to shake that empty expression from her face. What had gotten into her? What was wrong with her?

She died.

That made him scowl, but he pushed it away. "Sorry, what?"

"I was saying that those are going to be some wicked scars when the bandages come off," she repeated, stepping back from him. The smile on her lips was empty and didn't reach her eyes. She was gone.

She studied his face in the brief moment before he spoke and her heart gave a small jump. He was alive, and joking. Her best friend… She knew it shouldn't have surprised her, but in the short time she'd been… awake, she'd missed his familiar presence at her back, by her side, on her ship. But in his face, she could see that things had changed. It hadn't been just a few tumultuous weeks for him; it had been two long, painful years. He looked so much older—more than two years, she thought—and there was a darkness that she kept glimpsing behind his eyes that worried her. What had happened to the bright-eyed young C-Sec officer out to save the galaxy? What had happened to her universe?

Oh right, she died and Cerberus decided to play God with her corpse. Fuckers. She rubbed her throbbing skull and sighed.

"I'm more worried about you though, Shepard. I've heard some less-than-good things about Cerberus lately."

She shrugged under his gaze and rubbed her arms absently. "That's why you're here," she said quietly, looking down at her feet, "I need someone I can trust at my back."

"I can do that," he replied almost reluctantly and her stomach dropped, "Just… don't forget that some of us remember who you are. And try to remember that too."

He was gone before she could answer, leaving her alone with that thought. Did she remember who she was? The answer flew up automatically: Jane Shepard, Alliance, Human Spectre, Hero of—

No damn it! She set her head in her hands, desperately trying to think of something personal. Something not on her service record. Mindoir. Something from Mindoir. Slavers had attacked it and she'd—No! Her head ached and she wasn't sure the hangover was entirely to blame. Something she couldn't have forgotten… Her family. Her parents. Her brother. She tried to picture their faces, tried to see their house on the edge of the colony proper.

Nothing. She knew they existed, but the memories were blank.

She let out a strangled cry and struck the table. Why couldn't she remember her past?

"I would refrain from the destruction of Cerberus property, Commander."

"Shut up, EDI! Just… just shut up!" She could hear the tears in her voice and cursed anything she could think of: the Illusive Man, Miranda, Cerberus, the Council, the Alliance, the galaxy. She dropped to her knees, covering her face with her hands as the sobs finally broke free and her chest heaved. None of it… She couldn't remember anything personal. It was all gone. Her throat tightened painfully but she couldn't stop the sobs that wracked her body. What had they done to her?

"Commander?"

Shepard looked up, eyes wide, and she felt unbearably vulnerable. Joker stood, leaning against the doorway, expression impossible to read. She sniffled in what she hoped was a controlled and dignified manner and wiped her eyes on the back of her hand, trying to hide the tears that he no doubt had seen. The first time she'd seen Joker since she'd gotten on the ship—it was not the Normandy—and she was a blubbering mess on the floor. Fuck.

"Shepard… You alright?" He carefully settled down beside her and she nodded quickly, but tears still streaked down her face. "Come on, Shep, talk to me."

She felt his hand on her shoulder and held in another sob, breathing carefully through her nose. How could she explain what was wrong? How could anyone understand? What were you supposed to do when an entire part of your life just disappeared from your memory? "I'm sorry, Joker," she finally managed, glancing sidelong at him. She knew the pain she would see on his face before she had even looked at him. It was her fault. Her anger at Cerberus had become an anger at everyone and he'd borne the brunt of it unintentionally; he saw her death as his fault, and then she treated him like he didn't exist. She rubbed her eyes, trying to force the tears back in. Damn, now her head really hurt. Before he could say anything, she continued, "Not for this. For everything. For the Normandy, for dying… For how I came back." She sighed. "I shouldn't even be back. What makes me so special?"

"You're kidding, right?"

She finally turned to look at him and he was smirking like he had a secret. "No, I'm not."

"Shit, Shepard, you're… Well, you're you. Everything you've done… No one else could do that. They need Commander Shepard to save the galaxy. They need you, not someone like you. No one else could do it." Joker shrugged. "I won't complain about having you back over some random Cerberus lackey. Things weren't the same without you."

"But I'm not…" Shepard took a deep breath and dropped her hands to her lap. "I'm not me anymore, Joker. I don't… fell right. I can't remember who I am beyond the medals on my uniform. It's all just… gone." Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around herself. "I can't be Commander Shepard because I can't even be Jane Shepard."

"Yes, you can," he insisted almost exasperatedly, "You can do anything, it's just… hard. You died, Shepard. There's no way to know what that would do to you. Give it time."

"Shit, Joker. When did you get so insightful?" she teased, managing a smile.

"Well, you know… Not much to do when you're grounded except sit around and think." He shrugged again and added, "Don't tell anyone."

"Only if you promise not to tell anyone that you saw me crying."

"Deal. You're forgiven, by the way."

Shepard gave a small laugh and gently squeezed his shoulder. "How'd you know to come down here?" She looked over at him and smiled, sitting back on her heels. "I mean, no one knew I was in here still."

"EDI mentioned that she thought you might destroy the comm room, so I figured you might need someone to check on you. And I figured we could, you know, talk." Joker adjusted his hat to hide the smile on his face. "Guess I made up for you having to save my ass."

"Yeah, you did." She smiled and added, "So if you're down here, who's flying my ship?" She stood carefully and straightened her uniform, casting him a mischievous glance.

"Figured if that AI's staying, she might as well be useful every now and again. And, like I said, I wanted to talk. Now help me up."

Shepard laughed and hauled him to his feet. Talking with Joker—laughing and joking like nothing had changed—made her feel a bit more like herself. A small part of her felt right again; it wasn't much, but it had to be enough for now.

"Hey Joker," she called as he went to return to the cockpit, making him pause just beyond the doorway, "It wasn't your fault. And… Thanks."

In the pause before he answered, she could see surprise and sadness as he remembered the moments before the Normandy's destruction, but it didn't last long and he gave her a small smile. "Any time, Commander."

The doors slid closed and she looked up at the ceiling. Give it time. She could do that… Her gaze darkened momentarily and she stalked out toward the elevator. But there was something she had to take care of first.


I wanted to settle Joker and Shepard's stuff and I'm glad something happy and fuzzy got to happen. =3 Let me know what you think!