Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect, save the OCs you will encounter in this particular story. It will not merely be a re-telling of the ME story as we know it, so expect changes and (hopefully) surprising and enjoyable twists! This story is rated M for a reason and will contain future scenes of violence, gore, sex, and various other mature situations. There will also be copious amounts of wonderful, wonderful angst. Please consider yourself warned.

*A/N: I am so very sorry for the crazy long delay!I have returned to university and have been slammed with assignments! Thank you in advance for your understanding – and don't worry! I'll be back! This chapter may seem a little 'fluffy' but fear not, I do not intend to make things easy for Eira and Shepard...when the shit flies so will the angst! This is going to be a long one, remember? ;)

Any and all reviews are appreciated! A big thank you goes out to everyone who has added this story to their alerts and/or faves :) – Fallon.

Chapter Nine

"Life has many ways of testing a person's will, either by having nothing happen at all or by having everything happen at once" – Paulo Coelho

Eira was trying her best to contain her excitement, but it bubbled over into the biggest smile she could muster. If she had known something so amazing existed beyond Nafna Station, she'd have found a way off years ago.

"This place is massive!" She exclaimed as they stepped out of the airlock onto the Citadel's docking bay, scanning the area with gleaming wide eyes.

The neon lights were nearly blinding and she was certain she'd have a migraine later but she couldn't help but look at them, enamored by their shapes and colours.

"Never seen anything like it, kid?" Garrus asked from beside her.

Eira shook her head, "Not even close. I'd heard of the Citadel of course, some of the lab techs on the station spoke about it, but no one ever told me it was like this." She smiled, "It's amazing…"

They followed Shepard down a hallway leading to a security checkpoint. He'd mentioned visiting the Presidium, but she'd hardly paid attention when the fact that she'd be getting off the ship registered.

Just then she realized she hadn't thanked him from bringing her along.

She looked ahead to Shepard. The officer guarding the checkpoint had just stopped him and was running some sort of scanner over him while saying something she couldn't quite hear.

"What's going on?" She asked, looking up to Garrus for an answer.

She saw his mandibles flare and wondered what that meant. He was the first turian she had ever met. Of course she'd read plenty of books about their culture, their history; reading was all she really had on Nafna. But he was the first she'd actually seen.

His brush with death on Omega had left half his face and neck badly scarred and blown away a large chunk of the ridge of armour around his shoulders away. Considering he'd taken a rocket to the face, Eira figured he was lucky.

Garrus shrugged, "I assume his being dead for two years is messing with their recognition software."

As soon as the words left his mouth, the door hissed open and they were permitted onward. Shepard stopped to speak with a C-Sec captain and with Garrus sticking close to him; Eira allowed herself a moment to take in her surroundings.

Ahead of her was a wall of trees and flowers she'd never seen before, not even in books. Asari, krogan, salarian and turian wandered the floor, moving between shops and restaurants without a care in the world.

Her excitement at her new surroundings ebbed and faded as she wondered if they knew, or cared, about the Reapers, about the colony abductions. The reports she had read indicated that there was a lack of acceptance that the Reaper threat was imminent, or real, but she couldn't believe people seemed so care free when two years ago the very station they were standing on had been nearly decimated.

"Quite a sight, isn't it?" Shepard asked as he moved to stand beside her, having sorted out the situation with the C-Sec captain.

She looked so out of place in the rustle and bustle of the station he couldn't help but smile ever so slightly. The armor Cerberus had given her was of very high quality and hugged her every curve like a second skin. Sleek hard plating covered her calves, thighs, chest and arms while a tightly bound membrane underneath allowed for flexibility. The entire suit was black save the yellow Cerberus logo on her chest plate and the stark contrast made her hair and skin appear to glow. She had an M-6 Carnifex strapped to her hip and an M-15 Vindicator fixed to her suit on the small of her back.

The hardsuit and weapons were of excellent make, but Shepard had been in the military long enough to recognize when someone felt uncomfortable in their gear.

Just one more thing for her to get used to, he reasoned.

"It's beautiful," she said with a small smile, "It just doesn't seem right, though."

Confused, he turned to look at her and saw unease painted clearly on her face, "What doesn't?"

Eira raised her arm, gesturing at everything around them, "Two years ago this was destroyed. The people here, the ones that lived through it, they saw the threat you've been trying to warn them about." She shook her head, flabbergasted that a direct attack wasn't enough to spur anyone but Shepard and Cerberus into action, "They saw it and they still don't believe it…"

Shepard watched her. Eira's focus shifted around the room and he could tell from the slowly deflating smile on her lips that her impression of the station, or at the very least of its inhabitants, was souring.

"They don't want to believe anything is wrong. They say its human nature," he sighed, "but I'd say it translates to other species pretty damn well."

"Not very reassuring isn't it?" Eira asked in a whisper, looking to him out of the corner of her eyes with a sad look. "Even after everything you and your team discovered two years ago it doesn't seem right that so little has been done."

"We're here now," Shepard said with a sharp intake of breath, "What we do here and now can make all the difference. We stop believing that and the Reapers have already won."

Her eyes met his and the questioning doubt he saw there immediately compelled him to alleviate some of her concern.

"You haven't been off that station very long, Eira. I know this is a hell of a lot to take on." He took a step closer to her and spoke quietly so only she could hear him, "But we're not out of this yet. It isn't hopeless."

He felt like he was lying to her, or at the very least leading her to believe it was all going to end without consequence. In truth he had his doubts. Could he make it through the Omega 4 relay? That much he held faith in accomplishing. But destroying the Reapers entirely? Without more help it was a fool's hope and nothing more. So much was riding on him and he felt like he was fumbling in the dark, searching for a solution he wasn't entirely certain was there.

But Eira didn't need to know that.

He needed her committed to the mission and believing it could be done. He could handle the doubt, the fear of failure and the unknown. While all he needed to be was the Commander, he could hide every trace of fragility behind his façade. All else was buried inside him as deeply as he could muster.

The days were easier that way.

Eira nodded and swallowed hard.

He looked at her more closely and saw a lingering sadness in her eyes though.

This place wasn't what she'd hoped it would be and the devastation of that gleamed in her red-tinted eyes. He urged himself not to be moved. She was a naïve little girl and her view of the galaxy was sure to change as she actually experienced it. It had to change if she was to survive. Pouting at every disappointment would only get her killed. But the part of him he'd tried so hard to supress, the aspects of himself he couldn't afford to acknowledge as the Commander, compelled him to try to lighten the somber veil that had fallen over her.

"Stay here a moment." He said hurriedly as he made for a small shop tucked in the corner of the market.

He ignored the shopkeepers' awed stammer of a greeting and scanned the displays, choosing the first thing he saw that felt right to him and paying quickly before returning to Eira.

She had remained right where he'd left her and her eyes were wide with surprise and curiosity.

As he approached her, his hand clutching the small trinket tightly, he was overcome with a sense of gracelessness he was horribly unaccustomed to.

On the battlefield he was an artist, there was no one alive or dead who would deny it. He dodged gunfire, mortar fire and oncoming missiles like it was child's play, often without a second thought or fear about death looming over him. Everything after Akuze had been just that. And it was a dance he could perform in his sleep, which had been what made slipping into auto-pilot so damn easy.

Now though…now he felt like he was being jerked from that pace he had established. It had all made sense as he had entered the shop, keep her from falling into a mindset that wouldn't allow her to do her job, but walking towards her and being the sole focus of her gaze made him second guess himself.

Eira could see he was uncomfortable but couldn't for the life of her understand why. After all, not two minutes ago he was reassuring her as any confident leader would do, but now…

"Commander?" She offered softly as he stood before her on the crowded market floor, "Is there something –

She was cut off by his hand roughly grabbing hers and pressing something small into her palm before quickly pulling back and taking a small step away from her, putting distance between them that seemed to alleviate some of the tension in his features.

Eira opened her hand to see a silver charm bracelet coiled in her palm. It was simple, but the chain was strong, comprised of links woven tightly together like a braid. There was a flat charm with a detailed engraving of the Citadel emblazoned upon it, the year written in an elegant, curved script just below.

The crowd swarming around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them, and he felt horribly exposed. He swallowed the anger it brought out in him and tried to brush off the discomfort.

Shepard watched her closely from the corner of his eye.

Her eyes opened wide in surprise, then her expression softened and her lips curved upwards in a smile that caused a strange flutter of emotion to ripple upward from his stomach; which had been so tensed and knotted not a second before.

Her gaze rose back to the Commander as she clasped her fingers tight around the bracelet.

"Thank –

"It's nothing," Shepard interrupted with a shrug, "You always wanted to come here, right? It's just…something to remember it by." He cleared his throat and attempted to look her in the eye only to find that he couldn't bring himself to. Instead he looked just past her, "It's…it's just nothing."

Eira nodded.

She could see Garrus approaching them from the corner of her eye but the weight of the charm in her hand prevented her from breaking her focus on the man before her. His discomfort was plain for her to see. The not-so-subtle way he kept his gaze down and away from her spoke to a frailty that seemed so misplaced in a man armed with half a dozen guns and a high-tech hardsuit built for battle. She felt the sudden need to reach out to him, however she could do nothing but stare at him and his pale blue eyes fell upon her.

"Guys?" Garrus said as he joined them, breaking the silence that hung between them, "Where are we headed?"

Whatever reverie Shepard was locked in broke and he turned to his old friend.

"The Presidium," he said in a stern voice, "I heard from Anderson."

"Whatever happens, Shepard, at least someone in the Alliance believes you're really back." Garrus said solemnly, hoping to alleviate some of the doubt he knew the Commander was dealing with.

Shepard gave a curt nod, turning silently on his heels and making for the platform to hail a cab.

Eira followed quietly behind them.

"Shepard!" Anderson said with a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief as he approached his old friend, "You are a sight for sore eyes, my friend."

The two embraced, smacking each other firmly on the back as they parted.

Eira stayed off to the side with Garrus, allowing the two men some degree of privacy as they caught up.

She wasn't sure why, considering she hadn't even spoken a word to the man, but she immediately liked the Ambassador. She supposed it was the grandfatherly warmth he seemed to possess but when Shepard had seen him he'd smiled, it was slight but she had seen it, and that was more than enough cause to like the older man.

Eira heard Shepard ask about his old crew and her curiosity was piqued. She knew Garrus had been a part of Shepard's crew back on the SR-1, but she wondered who else had fought with him. She had intended to search the extranet for more information but this, she supposed, was a far more reliable source.

Nibbling on the inside of her cheek, she tried to ignore the feeling that she shouldn't be eavesdropping, that she should just sit quietly with Garrus, and focused on Shepard's voice.

"Anderson…have you heard about Williams?" Shepard asked stiffly, "Do you know where she is?"

The Ambassador paused, then said with a heavy sigh, "I can't tell you, Shepard. She's on a highly classified assignment and as long as you're with Cerberus…I just can't."

Eira risked a glanced over to the two men and saw a shroud of disappointment and hurt fall over the Commander.

"I know you and the Chief were…close, Shepard." Anderson continued, "And I'm sorry I can't tell you more, please understand."

Shepard nodded, "Of course, Ambassador."

Eira saw Anderson wince at the distancing use of his title instead of his name, but chose not to call Shepard out on it.

In a voice hoarse with emotion, the Ambassador spoke, "It's damn good to see you in one piece, Shepard."

There was a tense moment of silence and she saw the Commander's jaw clench as if he was debating speaking, but in the end not a word passed through his lips.

Shepard merely nodded curtly to the man, turned, and walked briskly away.

Garrus and Eira had to jog to catch up to him.

Back aboard the Normandy later that night, Eira stared at the screen of her omni-tool, debating whether or not it was wise to key in the search her curiosity compelled her to.

W-I-L-L-I-A-M-S

Her finger hovered over the omni-tool, but she just couldn't bring herself to press 'search'.

She reached across the pile of reports Shepard had left her and picked up the bracelet. Running her fingers over the links of the chain, she watched the charm twirl slowly as it dangled from her fingers.

Shepard's words echoed in her mind.

It's…it's just nothing…

Was it? It had been years since she'd last received a gift. Corrine had last celebrated her birthday when Eira had turned fifteen. Every year after that, all she had given Eira had been a brief hug and a whispered wish for a happy birthday; nothing more. Thinking hard, Eira couldn't even recall what she had been given for her fifteenth birthday.

Her fingers grazed the charm and she swallowed hard.

She stood abruptly, fastening the bracelet around her wrist and donning a hoodie before leaving her room. The mess hall was quiet as she made her way to the main battery, having long since cleared out from the dinner rush. She hesitated only briefly at the door to the battery, not wanting to wake up the turian if he was sleeping, but decided to push on regardless.

The door hissed open and the clanking of tools told her Garrus was indeed awake.

She stepped around a huge piece of machinery and saw the turian fussing over something she had never seen before.

"Hey, kid," he said without glancing up, "shouldn't you be sleeping?"

"Shouldn't you?" She countered with a smile.

He laughed, "I suppose. But this gun's been neglected; someone needs to get it in order."

Eira frowned, confused, "This entire ship is new, hasn't even seen action if what the crew says is true. How can it be neglected?"

Garrus chuckled as he punched something into a console, "Because I haven't been here, kid. No one can calibrate a gun like I can."

With a laugh, she pulled herself up on a storage container pressed up against the wall, crossing her legs and looking to him, trying to find a way to approach what she wanted to ask him.

"Why don't you just ask it, kid?" Garrus said, crouching down by the gun and sitting with his back against it.

"W-What do you mean?" Eira stammered, unsure how he could possibly know what she was thinking.

Garrus snorted, "I've been around humans long enough to get a sense of their behaviour. Still an old race, you humans, but some things about you are easy enough to figure out."

"Like?"

He hummed and sat down the wrench he had been working with, "Respect, loyalty and fear…infatuation."

Eira looked away from him and pulled her knees up to her chest, trying to wish away the heat of the blush from her cheeks.

She spoke in a single, heavy breath, "I…don't know what you're talking about."

"Whatever you say, kid." Garrus' mandibles twitched into a smirk, "Still, if there is something you want to ask…"

Eira swallowed hard. It embarrassed her immensely that he knew, or at least thought he knew, how she felt about the Commander. She was this small, naïve girl the universe never knew existed and he was the one everyone worshiped. Whatever she felt, and she was unsure just what it was, it had to have been brought on by curiosity and gratitude brought on by him saving her.

Garrus…Shepard, would laugh in her face if they knew.

Whatever it was, whatever she felt…surely it held no merit.

"I…" She started, nerves and curiosity battling inside of her, "I was wondering who Williams was…"

Garrus nodded. He was more than willing to answer her question, and any other she had, though he was wary of hurting her. She seemed like a gentle soul, not someone he'd expected to see on a warship, but Shepard had spoken highly of her abilities. Such a sensitive topic would usually cause him to steer clear, but he had seen the way Shepard had acted when he gave the charm to her…

For a moment, Shepard didn't seem so miserable, so damn cold and stoic. For a moment, the walls came down.

"She's a Gunnery-Chief in the Alliance. She was with us on the SR-1. She and the Commander became…involved during our pursuit of Saren. She's still with the Alliance and, I suspect, doesn't know he's alive."

Eira nodded slowly, deflated and strangely hurt, "Oh…"

"Not really something the Alliance is keen on, 'fraternization'," Garrus said in an effort to lighten the sour mood in the air, "The Turian military is far more forgiving in that respect."

"I…see."

Garrus frowned, "I'm sorry…I-I didn't mean to…"

"No, it's alright," Eira insisted, "I asked it, didn't I? I guess…"

"What is it?" Garrus pressed.

Eira shrugged, "I just wanted to know more…about him, and I'd feel stupid asking the man directly," she hung her head, "Though I feel mighty stupid right now."

"Don't think that way, kid," Garrus reassured warmly, "Shepard has always kept people at a distance, which is why his getting involved with Williams surprised me. But since he's been back…well, dying changed him. He's much more distant, I mean, he could be standing right in front of me and I'd feel like he wasn't there."

Eira looked up, "Why is that, do you think?"

"Not sure," Garrus admitted, "He's one of my dearest friends and I'd follow him to hell and back, but the truth is I don't know much about him. And honestly, I think he wants it that way."

Shepard sat before the terminal in his cabin, his elbows on the table and his head resting in his hands.

He didn't know what he was doing, but he sat there, his terminal opened and a blank message opened on its screen.

His fingers touched the keys.

A-S-H-L-E-Y W-I-L-L-I-A-M-S

He selected her address from those that popped up and moved on to the main body of the message.

He hesitated only briefly, then took a deep breath and continued.

Ash,

I don't know if you've heard, but I'm back, I'm alive.

Anderson won't tell me where you are, but God I hope you're safe. I don't know what you've heard, but…but someone we both hate brought me back. And I suppose I'm with them, for now. I don't like it, but the Alliance won't help. Even Anderson doesn't trust me…

Please…please if you get this…respond; I need to know you're okay, that you're still kicking ass out there…

I miss you… I miss you…

-R.S.

Before he could convince himself to do otherwise, he clicked send.

He hurried away from his desk, collapsing on his bed and searching through the tangled sheets for the unopened bottle of whiskey he had stashed under the pillows.

Elation ripped through him when his fingers grazed the glass bottle, felt the familiar pattern of the painted label, and he pulled it out, making quick work of the seal and taking a long swig.

The familiar and satisfying burn made the pain in his chest ease and took another, and then another.

He thought the Presidium would give him answers, but none of his questions had been answered. The Alliance didn't trust that he was back and acting without manipulation from the Illusive Man, and he knew in his gut he wasn't going to win their support back anytime soon. Anderson didn't trust him either and Shepard wasn't going to feel better about that until the bottle was empty.

When the bottle was empty though, he felt no better but he did feel angrier. He wanted to scream until his chest burst, to scream to everyone who doubted him that he was who he claimed to be.

It was exhausting, the weight of everyone's doubt. Atop of being expected to save the galaxy, their doubt was crippling.

Shepard let out a long, defeated sigh.

He waited for the numbing bliss that whiskey typically brought him to envelope his aching body, but instead she passed through his mind, as did the look she had given him when he'd pressed that stupid charm into her palm.

…her expression softened and her lips curved upwards in a smile…

Stupid, he berated himself, stupid, stupid, stupid.

He squeezed his eyes shut and nearly wept when he realized he was out of whiskey. Surely more would make the pestering memory of her smile go away?

He fell back onto the bed and clutched the bottle tight.

It wasn't enough to make him forget the small smile she had given him…but it was enough to make him pass out.