"So I've been thinking…" Kaidan started, holding the spoon up for Shepard to take another bite of her food. She tried to take the spoon from his hand to feel herself, but he insisted with a withdrawing of his arm and an arched brow. In a huff, she gave up and allowed him to help her eat. She knew that he knew she hated needing help, but she needed it.

"Thinking? Sounds dangerous," she teased, causing him to roll his eyes.

"Seriously, Shepard. You've got two weeks left here, tops. Then they're kicking us out. Where are we going to go?"

She furrowed her brow, accepting another spoonful of mush. "I thought we'd agreed on Vancouver."

"Yes, but the place isn't in idea condition, especially not to bring you home in. I mean, it's outside of the metro area so it's not like it's blown to hell, but I'm sure it needs some cleaning up…" He sighed. "Which would be up to me."

"So we clean up when we get there, big deal." She reached for her cup of water, which he handed to her hastily.

"No," he started to correct her. "It's my problem, and I'm going to have it fixed before we get there. I think I'm going to go to Vancouver for a bit and fix the place up, while you're stuck here."

She thought about this for a moment. It wasn't so much the idea of her being alone that surprised her, but the thought that he was actually willing to leave her side for an extended period of time. No doubt he'd be checking in like a madman with her in the state she was, but he was willing to go to the opposite coast of the continent to make sure the house was suitable for the two of them to inhabit for the foreseeable future. She reclined in bed, slumping against her pillows and reaching up gingerly to run her fingers through her hair. "That'd be alright, I think. I wouldn't mind staying here alone."

"I'm sure Liara would stay, if you wanted her to. She probably wants to put her feet up anyway," he nearly laughed. It was true, Liara hadn't had a moment to breathe since Shepard arrived in the hospital. She was always informing, always communicating, always trying to figure some other piece of the puzzle out. She'd only had the chance to stop in to see Shepard a handful of times since she'd regained consciousness, and each time was brief and interrupted by some kind of call or message or transmission of someone somewhere with information for her. The war didn't stop the Shadow Broker, and the Shadow Broker would stop for nothing now that it was over. "I think we'd have to force her to sit down. Tie her to the chair."

Shepard laughed, the sound forced and wheezy with her lungs the way they were. "I'll call her later. We'll figure it out."

"I'm probably going to catch a shuttle tomorrow morning, if I can. Is that alright?"

She frowned, reaching to touch his chin. "Of course. You're worried, aren't you?"

"Well, yeah," he took her wrist and moved her hand to kiss her fingers one by one. "I don't want to leave you here like this."

"I'm fine, Kaidan. Really."

He opened her fingers and kissed her palm. "That's what you always say."

. . .

Kaidan picked up his bag and turned to Shepard. "Get better, alright? I'll call you as soon as I land, and I'll be back next week. Promise you'll take care of yourself."

"I promise, Kaidan. Go on, before you miss your shuttle." She nodded to the door, where Liara stood with her arms crossed, wearing her usual knowing smile. She looked up at him, focusing her eyes on his just as he stooped over and kissed her mouth with sweetness and longing, a bit more than usual. "I miss you already. Now go on." She smoothed her hand down the curve of his back, sneaking a tiny grab of his backside, causing his eyebrows to shoot up in surprise, and her devilish grin to spread across her face.

"I love you, Shepard."

She smiled, still. "I love you too, Kaidan."

"Take care of her for me, T'Soni," he regarded the asari with mock-assertion. "Any problems and I'll have to assume that it's you causing the trouble."

"But of course, Kaidan," she said, finally grinning. He gave her a short hug. "She's in good hands."

He nodded to both of them, his eyes lingering on Shepard for an extra moment, and then he was off down the hallway. Liara took this as her cue to enter the room and place her overnight bag at the foot of Shepard's bag. Her eyes were tired, but calm. Kind. There was something quiet about her, something that drew breath from the ruins of Earth, the ruins of the Citadel, the ruins of Thessia, and exhaled a sort of meditative hum over the air around her. Shepard had never seen her so peaceful.

"So, Shepard," she said, a smile in her voice although her face remained neutral. "How have you really been?"

She laughed quietly. "I could use a walk. Want to go for a walk?"

"There's nothing I would rather do."

Liara helped her up from the bed, being patient as ever as Shepard grunted and struggled with her body in the weak state it had taken on in recovery. She finally got to her feet, wheeled her IV tower to her with an iron grip, and smiled breathlessly, gesturing to the door with good spirit. Liara led the way, taking her out into the hall and notifying the nurse that they'd be taking a walk. When she turned her attention back to Shepard, she was already halfway down the hallway, half-walking and half-sliding with her slippers on. Somehow, she was still Commander Shepard. Demanding and powerful, goofy and clumsy, resillient and hopeful. Her injuries could never take that from her.

Liara finally caught up to the commander, a small smile still painted on her modest lips. "If you think you're getting away that easily, you have another thing coming to you, Shepard."

"If only it were that simple," she sighed dramatically, pushing her hair behind her ear with one hand. She walked on, not looking at her friend as she headed for the side of the floor that had floor-length windows that looked out over the city. After she'd left the ICU, she'd been moved up to the fourteenth floor. Depending on the number of patients that came in in the next two weeks, they said they might need to move her again, up to a higher floor. It didn't matter to her. She had to stare out at the remains of New York City either way, and it hurt just as much.

"Kaidan told me Jeff came to visit…" Liara interuppted their silence with a loaded statement that tapered off into tension.

A bitter laugh came from Shepard's closed mouth. "Yeah. I'm sure you've heard about EDI."

"Kaidan also told me you think it's your fault?" She caught Shepard's eyes, meeting them with a knowing look. She hated it when Liara did that, mostly because she was right.

"It is. You don't know what—"

She stopped Shepard in front of one of the tall windows, taking her free hand between both of hers. "Listen to me, Shepard. Whatever you had to do to end this war, you did it. And there should be no guilt in that."

"EDI, the Geth… all of them, artificial intelligence has been wiped from our lives. It's not permanent, sure, we can rebuild. But EDI's gone, and Jeff's miserable, and it's because of what I chose to do."

She squeezed Shepard's hand. "You chose to sacrifice the few for the many. Noble."

"I don't feel noble. But thanks." She closed the subject by turning to walk to a nearby bench to watch the shuttles flying, streaming between the ghostly skyscrapers of the destroyed city. She sat back on the bench, gliding her IV tower next to her and settling back into the cool hardness of the wall. Liara sat next to her, waiting for her to pick up the next leg of the conversation. Shepard could tell she was being more cautious than usual; everyone was when they were around her. But there was something else on Liara's mind, she could feel it. "I grew up in New York, y'know."

"I know."

"How did you—" she started without thinking, then immediately stammered to a stop. "Shadow Broker. Right. Makes the whole 'fucked up backstory' thing a little less fun, Liara."

"I'm sure I don't know the whole story."

Shepard let out a breath she suddenly felt she'd been holding in her chest for years. "You'd probably be disappointed. Much less glamorous than the Alliance years, when you first joined the team. That's who I am now."

She felt Liara's eyes on her. "But who were you then, Mallory?"

Her first name left a biting acidic taste in the back of her throat. She pressed the button on the IV tower for another dose of pain medication, but it wasn't time yet. Her hands folded themselves on her lap, her fingernails working to scratch at the small bits of healing skin on the sides of her thumbs. The topic made her nervous. She'd never divulged much information about her life to anybody before, not even Kaidan. He knew that she'd grown up in New York, he even heard Knox's name now and again, but nothing too personal. Nobody knew anything too personal because too much information was weakness. Shepard was stubborn; she didn't want anyone to know her weaknesses. Especially not the man she loved. She wondered how much Liara already knew. The only person that knew most of the story was Anderson, mostly because of Knox's hand in her recruitment into the Alliance in the first place, and that knowledge had died with him on the Citadel.

"You can have one story," she murmured, folding her arms over her chest. She still didn't look at her friend. Her stomach churned, her heart twisted uncomfortably in her chest, but she couldn't pinpoint why. A shuttle zoomed by, close to the window, then turned smoothly to weave between the buildings ahead. The building closest to the window they sat before had a huge burned chunk taken from the side, where a Reaper had made its mark. New York City hadn't been hit as hard as London or Vancouver, but it still took a lot of damage. Enough to shake the very foundations of the city.

Liara thought for a moment, weighing her choices. "How about… the first man you ever killed."

Shepard couldn't help but laugh, brows up in surprise. "You don't bother starting light, do you? No tattoo stories, love stories?"

"That's the boring stuff I know you'd lie about."

"You know me too well. Alright, well... I was thirteen when I killed my first man."

. . .

It was a rountine gig. Take the package for payment, go to the old warehouse on Seventeenth West, give it to the guy with the octopus tattoo, who Knox referred to as "Octopus Tattoo" for her sake, and take the backpack back to the compound on Tenth Street. Easy enough. She'd done it dozens of times, and they'd never given her any trouble on either end. Either the dealers knew better than to fuck with the Reds, or they didn't have the heart to fuck with a little girl. It didn't matter to her, as long as nothing happened that landed her in hot water.

Besides, she wasn't a little girl. She was growing like a "fuckin' beanstalk" as Knox liked to say, complaining about how there weren't enough hand-me-downs for a kid as tall and skinny as her. She cut her hair short, wore old shoes with holes in the sides, and jeans that were frayed at the ankles and knees. It was good enough for her; she liked life with the Reds. There were days when it was scary, where she'd wake up to the sound of screaming or gunfire or drunken fights, but three years had proved long enough for her to adjust to the chaos. It gave her a rush she'd never felt before, adrenaline coming and going fast enough to give her whiplash. Knox looked out for her, made sure she didn't get into anything she didn't need to get into. Drugs were off-limits, and so was the booze. Everything else, though, was fair game. Her tame childhood wore off faster than she ever imagined it would. She loved running errands for the gang, passing secret messages by running through the streets, avoiding the police skycars and stealing bottles of drink and candies from street vendors right under their noses.

Knox made sure to take care of her, but he wasn't a babysitter. Mallory took care of herself.

This errand wasn't uncommon to her. She approached the warehouse and entered from the side door like she usually did in her bi-monthly trek to Seventeenth West. "Hello?" she called out, her voice swallowed up by the cavernous nature of the empty place. Two men came out of the back with a backpack.

They met her and she handed him the package of credits. His partner examined its contents, counting them meticulously as she waited for the bag to be handed over. She glanced at the belt of the man with the octopus tattoo and the glint of a silver pistol chilled her to the bone. She often forgot how dangerous these things could be.

"One thousand short," the skinnier man said, looking at Mallory with disgust. "Probably pocketed it for herself."

"No! No, I didn't, here, I'll take it back. I'll tell Knox—" she stammered, holding her hands in front of her.

"That won't be necessary." Octopus Tattoo took the envelope and tucked it into his jacket. "Run along. Tell Ryker not to fuck with the Eights again." His partner turned to leave, the backpack still in his hand.

"Hey! I can't leave with nothing!" She stood with defiance, adrenaline rushing on cue to puff up her sudden rush of bravery.

"Little girl's got a mouth on her, huh?" Before she could protest the use of 'little girl', his partner had her in his meaty hands, gripping her with intent to take her somewhere she no doubt didn't want to be. "Listen to me, sweetheart." He took the gun from his side and smoothed two fingers over the barrel, using it to tip her chin up to him. "I really don't want to use this thing, but I will if I have to. You go back to Tenth Street, tell Ryker that our prices went up and this is his last fuckin' warning. You get me?"'

She responded by promptly spitting in his face. His partner jerked her to the side as Octopus Tattoo wiped the spit from his eyes. She swung her leg forward, then back into the crotch of the man holding her. He released her, crouching to the floor in an attempt to recover. She slapped the gun from Tattoo's grip and tried knocking the wind out of him with a punch. The attack did nothing. As he moved to grab her again, every nerve in her body rushed at once. Acting without permission from her better thoughts, she slammed him to the wall with a biotic attack, leaving him limp and suspended in the air. She blinked as she met the eyes of her attacker, just as shocked as she was.

"Fuckin' hell, she's a biotic?" his partner exclaimed, just standing from the kick he'd received. She reached down and scooped the gun into her free hand, pointing it to him as she held the other man in her field still. "Shit, man, I'm getting out of here."

She let him go. But that didn't solve the problem of Octopus Tattoo, who had gone from the initial shock of discovering she was a human biotic to full rage that a kid had him in a hold like this. Even so, her strength was draining fast. He fell to the floor, crashing into a few boxes on his way down. "You're gonna pay for that, kid! Nobody fucks with me and gets away with it!"

He lunged to grab the gun from her. On reflex, her finger jerked quickly and she pulled the trigger. The man stumbled back, clutching the red spot on his chest that was starting to blossom into a wound. She stared at the blood, putting the gun down on the ground and watching as he came to rest on the floor, a few breaths wheezing out of him before he started to gurgle with what she assumed would be blood. She couldn't bring herself to look at him.

She pulled up her omni-tool, struggling with the controls until she could get it to call Knox.

"What is it, kid?"

"Knox—I'm at the… Seventeenth, I… oh no, Knox—" she stammered helplessly, feeling the shock starting to creep over her.

"Mal? Alright, just… stay where you're at. I'll be there."

He arrived minutes later, panting from likely running from Tenth Street to get to her. He surveyed the scene and saw the blood, a long breath pushing from his lungs. He picked up the envelope and the gun, tucking them into his jacket. Mallory was huddled up on the floor, tears streaming down her face, looking lifeless and shocked at the same time. He tried to help her up, but she wouldn't move.

"Alright, kid…" he whispered, tucking her messy hair behind her ear. He lifted her up and carried her out the back door, creeping through alleyways to get her back safely.

. . .

Liara said nothing as she finished her story. Shepard gazed out the window, remembering the buildings as they looked twenty years ago, lumbering over her and shining in the too-bright light of the sun.

"Knox Ryker was a good man. He did horrible, terrible things to so many people, but he was good to me."

"Was he the one to tell you to hide your biotics?" Liara asked, sounding genuinely curious more than anything else.

"My parents did. I was exposed to Element Zero early on, shuttle crash outside of the city where we lived. I got the implants as a precaution, just for medical reasons, I guess. But I wasn't allowed to use them. Knox didn't know for two years, maybe. I was good at hiding them."

Liara nodded, not knowing what else there was to say. "You were brave from a young age."

She looked out at the windows, remembering the Reapers' great claws covering the buidings there, thousands of people in each one. "I had to be."