Whispers: Shepard
No. Not another nightmare. She helped cure the genophage today! She helped kill a Reaper today! No! Not another nightmare!
At first glance, her second nightmare is just like the first. No color, no light. Just shadows, trees, and whispers.
Eventually though, she begins to see little differences. Is dreaming always like this? More or less the same, except for details that wouldn't matter to another person?
This time, bits of fiery debris fall from the sky. It melts away when it touches Shepard, the way the genophage cure did. Mocking her. Whatever she's accomplished doesn't matter here.
The boy. Again. Just the same as last time. Let it go! Shepard knows she didn't save him, damn it! He burns alive. He keeps his sad, frightening eyes locked on Shepard the entire time.
Let him burn. Shepard knows that she is failing, that she is the worst soldier in the Alliance, but she doesn't try to save the boy. She can't. She is too busy covering her ears.
Shepard…
The whispers are words this time. Horrible, horrible words.
Mike's words: Dad's taking Alice off-world, but some of us are still Alliance, kiddo. Second Fleet can't fly without me!
Ashley's words: Now go back, and get the lieutenant, and get the hell out of here! You know it's the right choice, LT!
Mordin's words: Excellent timing! Good to have you here.
Knowing that she should recognize the shadows makes her second nightmare so much worse than her first.
Shepard…
She wakes up with an aching jaw. Her teeth were clenched tightly together. The Alliance trains you not to scream. Enemies might hear your weakness.
(She doesn't make it to the bathroom in time. She vomits into her trash basket. There are cleaning supplies in the closet. Industrial strength. When she's done, the whole room smells like ammonia. If any germs survive, it isn't on her.)
She can't stay here. She can't try to sleep again. She can sleep when she's dead. If they let her stay dead next time.
…
Cortez and Vega are elsewhere for once. The shuttle bay is empty and quiet at this time of night. Lonely. Somewhere on the ship, other people are surely awake. Shepard doesn't care. She needs to punish her body so that she can start to remember that she's alive. It will be easier if no one watches her. She's fine, but she doesn't want to have to tell everyone that.
Test subject has been recovered, but the damage is far worse than we initially feared.
Sprints down the length of the bay. In the beginning, the robotic dog keeps pace with her. Just two machines, alone together. Running. Trying to feel something—blood?—pound through their circuits. Eventually, the mech gives up. It flops down in the middle of the bay. A challenge. Sometimes Shepard jumps over it. Sometimes she swerves to the left of it. Sometimes to the right.
Meat and tubes.
Thanks to Cerberus, Shepard doesn't tire as easily as she used to. It feels like hours before her legs begin to burn. She wonders how much time has really passed. If the tone for the changing of the watch has sounded, she missed it.
Emotions at Shepard's alleged survival are mixed. While some are overjoyed at her return, others believe her false death was a betrayal.
(That tone… it used to be one of her favorite sounds. When she was little, it meant time with Mom. When she got older, it meant time without Mom. When she joined the Alliance, it meant time with guns. When she worked with Cerberus, it meant nothing. She's still waiting for it to mean something again. Maybe when the war is over, she can take some time. When the war is over. That's a laugh.)
I saw you get spaced.
She's starting to sweat. Not a light sheen of water on her face. Real sweat, that drips through her hair and drops onto the floor. If she looks down at her hands, will she be able to see the wires where her nervous system used to be? She knows that she glows in the dark. What about when she pushes herself too far? Will they use the fire extinguishers to put her out, the way they did when EDI's new chassis set the AI core on fire?
They rebuilt you from the ground up…Shepard, I don't know what you are since Cerberus rebuilt you.
Too hot. Here's a dilemma. She can't stop moving, but she's too hot. Can she take off her sweatshirt without stopping? Without falling?
Your brain functions are organic.
Pull down the zipper. Yank out the right arm. Lift the left arm high to keep from tripping. Jump over the dog. Reach behind and grab the sweatshirt. Pull the left arm out. Toss the sweatshirt. Touch the ground and turn.
I have to find out my child is alive third-hand through the Alliance brass? Where the hell have you been?
It's nice to have something go right.
…
She slides on her own discarded sweatshirt. Her arms wave wildly, trying to keep her upright. Of course, she fails. Her head strikes the floor. For a minute, it's like there's a skylight down here. She can see every star in the galaxy.
The dog steps over her legs. It goes to explore a dark corner behind the Kodiak.
Shepard stares up. From here, the window into the hallway of the engineering deck is upside down. Liara is standing at the window, staring down at Shepard. Their eyes meet. The asari smiles faintly and touches a hand to the glass. Fingertips only.
Did Cerberus ever tell you how they recovered your body? I gave it to them. I gave you to them, Shepard. Because they said they could rebuild you.
The commander closes her eyes and makes herself wave.
