A blaring pain stabbing her sides woke her from her sleep. The groan that escaped her only made it worse. Shepard's body was stiff, her bones aching and too heavy to move.

Blinking against the unpleasant light, Anya tried to orient herself. The fog was fading. Her mind was no longer moving at a sloth's pace. She was still groggy, sore and unfocused, but it was a different sensation than when she was first awake.

The quiet hiss of the door opening registered in the back of Anya's head. She had company.

"Good. You're awake." Dr. Michel announced her approach

Was that good? She couldn't bring herself to agree. Mind retracing her last wakeful moment she could recall the Doctor's visitation. Turning her gaze to Dr. Michel, Anya skipped the pleasantries. "Where's my mother?"

"On Earth," Dr. Michel informed her as she looked over Anya's vitals. Satisfied with the information she found, the doctor continued, "She's helping your father with the reconstruction effort. She promised to be back soon."

So it hadn't been a dream. Her mother was alive. And her dad was alive too. What about Michael and his family? Had they also survived the war?

When Anya spoke those weren't the questions that she asked, though, "Do you always cuff your war heroes?" Shepard lifted her arms as far as they could go, drawing attention to the padded cuffs securing her to the hospital bed. "Or did you have some naughty plans for me, Doctor?" Her jibe was without humor. She didn't find being cuffed funny. The pain in her body was placing Shepard in a surly mood.

She was supposed to be immersed in a sea of opiates and morphine, too drugged up to think or feel. And Shepard's new found sense of emotion was making her combative. She didn't know Dr. Michel enough to like her, and didn't care enough to try. She wasn't going to play polite, not for her, not for anyone.

The doctor eyed the taut manacles but did not remove them, fanning the flame of Anya's impatience. Meeting Shepard's frustrated gaze she replied, "I apologize for the restraints, but I assure you that they're necessary. At least for the time being. Even though you are healing at a remarkable rate we need to be sure that you don't undo all of the damage we've repaired."

A disapproving huff escaped Anya's nose. Her lip curled up into a snarl. "And why," was she growling? "would I do that?" She was definitely growling. Shepard was hurting. Like an injured animal, she could only retaliate with hostility.

Dr. Michel was unaffected by Anya's show, she answered, "You've survived a very traumatic experience, Commander. You're body is healing faster than normal, but Miranda assures me that it isn't healing at the rate it's supposed to. Your mind isn't ready to cope with what you've lived through, and that has stunted the healing process. You've recovered enough for us to wean you off of all the drugs. But until you've been examined and cleared by a psychiatrist the restraints are staying."

The women glared at one another, each waiting for the other to back down. After a minute, Shepard conceded, looking away from the doctor. It wasn't like she was in a good position to negotiate. This was Dr. Michel's turf. She called the shots.

With a sigh, Anya relaxed her arms, lowering them to her sides again. It was a gesture of temporary surrender. A lifetime of military upbringing had taught her to choose her battles wisely, and a standoff with Dr. Michel was a battle she couldn't win at the moment. It wasn't like the woman's orders were without merit. Anya was in a delicate state.

Since waking, there'd been only one thought in her head. Why won't they let me die? She'd been awake for maybe fifteen minutes and all she could think of was ways to end it all. How long would it take for her to bleed out if she used that needle on herself?

Anya's life had been fighting. Fighting through the Alliance ranks. Fighting to be recruited into the N7 program. Fighting to be the best N7. Fighting for survival during the Skyillian-Blitz. Fighting Saren. Fighting the Collectors. And finally fighting the Reapers. That was what she did. That was all she knew. Anya wasn't built for peace. She wasn't meant for the stillness of a galaxy without threat.

There had been only one man capable of giving her pause, a single being that made her long for serenity. And that man was dead. All Anya wanted was to join him in the afterlife. The beyond had rejected her. Life had seized her. And now she lay in a hospital bed facing life in a world where she didn't belong with a future she didn't want. Chatting up a shrink wouldn't change that. But if it meant that the shackles came off, then she would fake it. She had dated Kaidan long enough to become quite good at that.

"Alright, Doctor, you win" she finally replied while closely inspecting Dr. Michel's features for any signs of satisfaction. The doctor didn't appear to relish her victory over the Commander, or if she did, she did a damn good job not showing it.

Finding a comfortable position for her neck Anya wondered, "What's my prognosis?"

A smile whispered across the doctor's lips, grateful for Shepard's surrender. Sucking in a deep breath, the mousy woman began with her explanation, "Hopeful, considering that you should be dead."

Yeah, tell me about it. Shepard thought. At least the woman agreed with her on that.

Unaware of Anya's thoughts, Dr. Michel went on uninterrupted. "You suffered extensive burns and lacerations as well as multiple breaks and fractures. Namely, your right leg was crushed. While the damage was repaired it cannot be reversed. You will have to undergo daily sessions of physical therapy for the foreseeable future. As for right now, walking without aide, or at all, is simply not going to happen."

Being sucker punched right in the gut hadn't ever left her as breathless as she was now. Anya needed her mobility. She needed to be able to run down bad guys. That was what she did. That was who she was. Keeping her gaze steadily locked with the doctor's she dared to ask, "But I will walk again?"

"With enough physical therapy," Dr. Michel assured her with a nod. "If Miranda is correct in her estimates – which I wouldn't dare assume otherwise and expect to live – you should be back on your feet in a few weeks. Then, maybe a handful of months from now, you'll be back to shooting guns and chasing down bad guys."

"Good." It was good, wasn't it? If she had to live at least it wouldn't be as an invalid; silver lining and all that nonsense. Anya could have lived without knowing the answer to her next question. But it was something she needed to know. If she didn't ask then the doctor would tell her anyway. This way she would get the information at her request and not have it unceremoniously thrown onto her lap.

"What," Shepard cleared her throat of her hesitation. "What was the extent of the damage?"

Dr. Michel took a moment to consider her answer before speaking, like Anya would take the information badly. She was alive. And the doctor had already told her that her healing looked promising. It wasn't like imparting that information was going to offset everything. The mere knowledge of what she had survived wasn't going to kill her. And if it was, then Anya wanted to know all the more.

Securing her bangs behind an ear, Dr. Michel spoke at last. "You suffered a concussion, hairline fractures on three ribs, two more ribs broken, a punctured lung, your left shoulder was shattered and had to be completely reconstructed, along with your leg. Your arms sustained extensive burns. The amount of blood you lost," Chloe shook her head as if dismissing the thought. "A drop more and we would have lost you for good."

Was that all that had stood between her and eternity, one drop of blood? She could give fate that drop. She could drag her cuffs across her skin until it was raw, severed, and then it could take all the drops it needed. Death didn't have to be a prude, it could still bring her into the horizon.

Shepard fidgeted in her hospital bed, testing her shackles. They were too tight. They wouldn't cause enough friction to eventually rub her raw. Clenching her teeth, she exhaled her frustration.

Glaring at the ceiling Anya grumbled, "That bad, huh?".

"If Garrus hadn't found you when he did –" She cleared her throat, apparently the woman had a soft spot for battered soldiers. Fingers curling tightly around her data-pad, Dr. Michel's features took a somber tone. Anya's gut clenched at the sight of it. The last time she had seen a somber look in a doctor's eye . . . "Commander . . . There is one more thing."

Only one? Closing her eyes Anya waited for Dr. Michel to enlighten her.

"You were shot in the abdomen prior to the explosion that should have killed you." She was stalling. Why was she stalling? "I don't know the circumstances of that time. But for whatever reason you didn't use enough medi-gel to stop the bleeding or close the wound. Since it took so long for us to find you, our options regarding treating the injury were limited."

Why was she dragging this out? Ripping her eyes open Anya pinned Dr. Michel with her darkest glare. She didn't like being strung along, and she didn't have the patience to talk in circles.

"Spit it out, Doctor." Her growl was only a decibel above inaudible, but filled the room with enough tension she may as well have screamed.

"The rounds fired at you were explosive. The initial gunshot was followed by a marginal explosion that decimated the insides of your uterus. Had you received immediate medical attention, this injury would've been repairable.. That being said, when we did find you you had already practically bled to death. We could either remove your uterus or let you die."

'Or let you die' . . . let her die? It had been an option and no one had dared to even consider it? Bottom lip finding its way between her teeth Anya began to chew as she tried to hold herself together.

She had no uterus. If she had no uterus that meant she could never have a child. Starting a family without Thane had always been unthinkable, unimaginable, but now she was faced with an entire life. One day she might have been ready to go the whole nine yards and turkey baster her way into a pregnancy. She would have braved parenthood as a single mom, and she would finally have that family that she had always wanted. Without Thane it wouldn't have been complete, but it would have been hers.

Now what did she have? Without her uterus that dream was dead. Her chance to bring something beautiful and good into the galaxy was gone. She was a soldier without a war, and a woman without a purpose. They had brought her back from the dead for what? Why couldn't they have just let her die a hero?

Blinking back her tears, Anya shook away her emotion and turned to the only defense she had left. "I always knew that thing was going to bleed me dry." With a cough she hoped sounded like a laugh she corrected, "I just never thought it would be in the literal sense."

The doctor watched Anya with sympathetic eyes. "I'm sorry, Commander."

"Me too."

An awkward moment passed between them. Dr. Michel didn't know what to say to alleviate Anya's pain, and Shepard didn't know how to clearly explain to the doctor that letting her die would have been her preference.

Dr. Michel pressed on with a sigh. "On a scale from one to ten, where would you place your current level of pain?"

Did it matter? Did anything matter? Glaring out the open window Anya muttered, "Six."

"Commander," Dr. Michel scolded her outright lie.

Without turning her glare from the scenic view she answered honestly, "nine."

"Can you tell me where the pain is the worst?"

"My chest and shoulder." Taking a moment to consider she added, "I can't even feel my legs."

"That's normal. The Catalyst explosion took out a part of the Citadel, all of which seemed to have landed on you. Your armor protected you from most of the damage, but couldn't protect your spine from the trauma. We had to medically paralyze you, to keep you from jerking and causing more damage." Looking over the information on her data-pad, Chloe said, "You have visitors that are itching to see you; if you're up to it, I can send them in before we administer your medication again. What do you say?"

Was she up to it? Anya wanted to crawl into a dark hole. That was what she was up to. Did she really want people to come into her room and gape at her like some side show freak? The last thing she needed was to be seen as a feral animal.

Then again, it might do her some good to see some friendly faces. Maybe she could convince Dr. Michel to release her restraints.

"I'd like that," the words spilled past her lips without sentiment or conviction. Looking at Dr. Michel again she continued, "But I don't want them to see me like this." Anya lifted her arms a little. "Can you please take these silly things off of me?"

She was shaking her head before Shepard could finish her request. "No, Commander. The restraints are staying."

"Please, Dr. Michel, I was their commander. That's who they want to see, not some bat-shit crazy woman on suicide watch. It'll just be while they're visiting, then you can cuff me again. I'll be good."

"My answer remains unchanged, Commander." Turning towards the exit she shot over her shoulder as she departed, "I'll send them in for a few minutes, then it's nap time."

"Lola!" Vega strode into the hospital room with a grace Anya always found surprising. The grin that covered the lower half of his face made her heart sink a little. He admired the hero he thought her to be, but now the woman he had followed so valiantly was reduced to nothing.. Garrus, Kasumi, Miranda, and Jacob followed suit, crowding the room that had been too small to begin with.

The smile fell from James' face as his eyes landed on the leather cuffs that jailed her to the bed. "You into bondage, Lola? I didn't know that this was that kind of hospital." Turning towards the still open door he shouted, "Hey, Doctor, what's a man gotta do to get a sexy nurse up in here?"

"Be admitted would be my guess," answered Jacob.

Disgusted, Miranda crossed her arms and added, "I can make that happen."

Without acknowledging the two former Cerberus agents, James grabbed a chair and noisily dragged it to Anya's bedside. Grunting as he took a seat, the Lieutenant stated, "For real though, Commander, I can go twist some arms until someone treats you with some damn respect."

Knowing that laughing would hurt, Anya smiled at him. "Don't hurt yourself, Vega. I already tried. The only way these cuffs are coming off is if Kasumi breaks me out."

"That can be arranged," said the thief as she propped herself up on the foot of Anya's bed.

"Or," Anya looked towards the turian standing behind James. "A certain crush of our doctor friend could sweet talk her into un-cuffing me."

Garrus' mandibles clicked with amusement. "I'll give it a try, Shepard. But my brand of awkward charm has been effective on only one quarian thus far. I don't think she'd be too happy to learn that you've been exploiting it."

"At any rate," Miranda was quick to change the topic. "How are you feeling, Commander?"

Anya sighed as she leaned back into the pillow. "Like death."

"Don't candy coat it for your worried friends or anything," Kasumi snickered. "We can handle it."

"You can go ahead and feel like death all you like," Garrus remarked, his steel blue gaze regarding her carefully. "As long as you're alive the rest doesn't matter."

At that Anya scoffed. Misery didn't matter? That sure was good to know. "I'll keep that in mind."

Clearing his throat Jacob returned them all to the purpose of their visit.

"Congratulations on winning the war, Commander. You defeated the Reapers and we only had to rebuild most of you this time."

If only they hadn't bothered to rebuild her at all. Forcing a smile onto her lips Anya replied, "I didn't do it alone."

"No," Jacob agreed. "But without you the Reapers would have won and we'd all be dead."

"Each and every one of us owes you our lives, Commander." Miranda finished Jacob's thought. "And we just wanted to tell you how grateful we are."

James' gaze never left her face. His smile returned full force. "We got you something."

"But since hospital security won't let it through the door," Garrus shook his head as if the mere thought was revolting. "You'll have to get better and get out of here before you can find out what it is."

"I'll give you a hint," Kasumi patted Anya's leg. Leaning closer to Anya the thief whispered, "Its barrel is as long as Vega's arm and it makes bad guys go boom." Her fingers mimicked an explosion.

"You shouldn't have." She tried to say it jokingly, but Shepard meant it. They shouldn't have bought her a sniper rifle. Anya wasn't going to use it. Her legs were in tatters. When – if – she recovered, the Alliance wouldn't take her back, and if they did they wouldn't be dumb enough to let her do any field work.

"You'll love it," Garrus assured her. "I picked it out myself, and bought one for me, too." A laugh rumbled from his chest. "We'll have a rematch to see who the better sniper is."

Anya didn't care who the better sniper was or about a new rifle. Her heart wasn't in bantering with her old friend, it had died with Thane. Her body should have followed suit on the Catalyst.

When Anya didn't reply, James retorted for her. "A better gun won't change the results, Scars. It'll only make your defeat that much more accurate."

"Watch it, Jimmy," growled Garrus, "Or I'll show you just how accurate I can be."

Her visitors joined in laughter, but Anya couldn't bring herself to participate in their camaraderie. The others quieted when they noticed the absence of her laughter. The silence became uncomfortable but Anya felt no inclination to break it.

She was grateful to her friends for their concern, but she felt next to no desire for their company. Shepard wanted to be alone with her misery.

"I didn't get to tell you before," Jacob's deep voice pierced the silence. "Bryn had the baby. He's a boy, tough just like his old man."

The smile that tugged at the corners of her lips wasn't as forced as she would have expected. That baby had a hopeful future and that was what Anya had fought for.

"Congratulations, Jacob." Smile falling a bit she teased, "He's not named after me, I hope."

With a laugh Jacob shook his head, "Bryn and I came to a compromise. His name is Kole Shepard Taylor. They're outside waiting for me; I can go get them if you'd like to meet the little guy."

Again the smile vanished from her lips. "No," was her abrupt reply. To soften the blow, Anya explained, "Not while I'm like this."

Jacob nodded that he understood, though his disappointment was visible in his dark brown eyes. "Then maybe next time."

When Anya gestured her agreement Kasumi also informed her, "Kolyat is here too, Shep."

Her heart leaped at the sound of his name. The young drell was her last living connection to Thane. The prospect of living, though unbearable, seemed less insufferable at the thought of Koyat's presence. She had no right to request his company. He didn't owe her anything.

Biting her lip Anya glanced in Jacob's direction. It would be unseemly to declined to see his new born child then immediately after agree to see someone else without a moment's thought, but she and Kasumi had gotten close enough for the little sneak to understand the meaning of Anya's hesitation. With a slight nod she acknowledged Shepard's unspoken approval.

"We'll let you rest up, Shep." Kasumi slid off of the bed and onto her bouncing feet.

With a sigh, James got up from his seat. Rolling his shoulders he stated, "I'm shipping back down to Earth tomorrow. General Coates asked for my help with the reconstruction effort, and I can't sit around and mooch off of the Council's good graces for much longer."

"The Major's a General now?" Shepard raised an and Garrus both nodded in answer to her question.

She said, "Good for him. He deserves it." Addressing the topic of James' departure she well-wished, "Be safe down there."

"I will." James patted her good shoulder before taking his leave. Stopping at the open entrance he said, "I'll be seeing you soon, Lola. You better be up and running the next time I'm here."

Garrus' chest rumbled with his amusement. "What is that thing you humans say?" His mandibles flicked as he smirked. "You have to crawl before you can walk."

"You know Shep," Kasumi rebuked. "She ran out of the womb."

"Is that so, Commander?" Miranda put her hands on her hips in faux outrage. "Then someone has been falsifying your records."

Still averse to contribute to her team's teasing she simply smiled as reply. The people who were as good as her family left her to the plain white walls of her hospital room after a series of goodbye's and promises to visit again later.

"Commander?" A low raspy voice stirred her from her rapidly darkening thoughts. The silky yet gravely texture of the voice both warmed and broke her heart simultaneously. The young man, so different from his father, was the only person since waking who'd made her feel a thing.

Stepping into the room, he watched her closely with large black eyes . Discomfort stiffened his body, and uncertainty kept him a safe distance away from her.

"Dr. Michel said I only had a minute." Taking a hesitant step forward he asked, "I'm not disturbing you, am I? I can leave if you'd like to rest."

"No," she shook her head. "Please stay."

With her chin she gestured for him to take the seat James had forgotten at her bedside. Noticing his weary gaze eyeing her shackled arms she answered his unasked question, "They don't want to risk me reopening my wounds."

Nodding, he sat in the chair and leaned back until he was comfortable. As Kolyat peered out the open blinds Shepard could easily see the cerulean blue irises hidden in the blacks of his eyes. Where Thane had been beautiful shades of greens and yellows, Kolyat was adorned in striking combinations of greens and blues. Not for the first time, Anya wondered what Irikah must have looked like.

"How are you feeling, Commander?" Looking away from the window, his cerulean gaze returned to her. As he waited for her answer his lips pursed, lips he had unmistakably inherited from his father.

Watching his lips, and remembering the man who had shared a familiar set, Anya had to shake herself free of the sorrow. Forcing her chapped lips to smile, she supplied, "Miserable."

"Really? I mean being stuck in a hospital bed probably sucks." His curiosity pulled him forward until he was leaning his elbows on his knees. "But you destroyed the Reapers and saved the entire galaxy, and you're miserable?"

"That about sums it up."

Tearing her eyes from him, Anya forced her gaze elsewhere. How could she explain to this young drell that she wanted to die? There was no way. And he didn't deserve to be unloaded upon like that. She barely knew him. Their connection through his dead father was insufficient reason to burden him with her bullshit.

Clearing her throat she changed the subject. "So how have you been, Kolyat? I haven't spoken to you since . . ."

"Yeah," he said so that she wouldn't have to finish her sentence. Neither of them wanted to get into the topic of his father at that very moment. Running a hand over the serrated scales on the top of his head he answered, "After I did my time in community service Commander Bailey offered me a position at C-Sec."

"You're an officer?" She was impressed. The young man had allowed something good to come of the crap hand life had dealt him. His parents would have been proud.

Shaking his head he retorted, "Not yet, but soon."

The smile on her lips was the most genuine it had been since she'd awoken. "That's great, Kolyat! Congratulations!"

Watching her face, he sat silently for a moment. He was an intelligent young male. With a look alone, Anya could tell that his mind was reaching depths that few gave him credit for.

"I suppose I should thank you," started Kolyat. "You gave me the opportunity to become something more than the criminal I was becoming. Not only that, but you also gave me another chance with my father."

"Please don't thank me," Anya muttered.

Tearing her eyes from his she glared out the same window he'd been peering through earlier. Disquiet began to burrow in her gut, sadness filling the space it left behind. Her bottom lip found its way between her teeth as she began to worry the flesh.

With a shake of her head she continued, "I did the right thing. You shouldn't thank me for that."

Anya was tired of the gratitude. She had only ever done what was right. And what had that gotten her? A hospital bed with an entire life that she didn't want to live. Her one track mind always returned to that point. She couldn't escape it, doomed to remember that she would one day recover and be forced make a life without Thane.

"It's too late," he tried to smirk and ease the sudden tension that now accompanied them. "I already did. And I'm not taking it back." Standing, Kolyat straightened out his clothes before picking up the chair and replacing it where it had once been against the wall. "My minute's up. I should go before Dr. Michel comes to get me."

"I'll see you again," she almost pleaded, barely able to hide her desperation. "Won't I?"

"If you'd like." Before leaving he observed, "You'll have an eternity with my father, Commander. But you only have a lifetime with the rest of us." And then he was gone, the doors hissing shut behind him.

A burning sting stabbed the backs of her eyes as tears began to rim her vision. She would easily give that lifetime if it meant even another minute with Thane. How much longer did she have to suffer?