Demons and Angels

London, Earth

"Take that, asshole!" James yelled as a marauder's head exploded in front of him, courtesy of his Eviscerator. "Fuck up my planet, I fuck up your face! Anyone else want some?"

"Save some for later, Vega!" Garrus called over the Hades Cannon's cacophonous energy blast, his teeth rattling in his head as he finished off his own quarry.

"Clear!" Shepard called from higher ground, and his small infiltration team of two hopped up to join him on the apex of a hill of rubble. "We'll skirt around there," he said, pointing ahead at a group of demolished buildings which provided some cover. "From there, we should be able to –" He grimaced, clamping his hands over his ears as the cannon fired up again.

"That thing's really starting to piss me off!" shouted James.

"Agreed! Let's shut it down!" Shepard replied, retrieving a spare thermal clip from the ground and snapping it into his pistol.

"Oorah! Right behind you, Loco! Let's do this!"

Spotting enemy troops in the distance, they quickly crossed over to the wreckage of the buildings, keeping to cover as they gradually made their way uphill.

"Harvester!" Garrus warned, and they flattened themselves against a wall as the mutated creature flew overhead, spawning several husks below them.

"On it, Commander!" Cortez announced, arriving behind the monster in the Kodiak. "Gonna try and keep it off you! Get out of here!"

"Be careful, Steve!" Shepard urged, watching in horror as an explosion rocked the tail of the shuttle. "Steve!" he screamed, running forward after the craft as it sharply descended, only to be grabbed and held back by Garrus.

"Esteban?" James hollered, his voice harsh with panic. "Esteban! Where you at? Answer me, man! Hey!"

"Cortez! I order you to respond!" Shepard barked, jabbing his earpiece with his fingers. "Steve! Come in!"

"Shepard, we need to move!" Garrus loaded his rifle and began to pick off the first husks that had followed them up the hill. "Shepard!"

Adam stalked forward, his blue eyes turned to ice, and concentrated his rage and terror into a devastating biotic wave that toppled the husks and sent them flying helplessly away.

"He's not dead, he just lost his comm.," Adam grunted, wiping sweat from his brow. "He's not dead," he repeated, walking away from the others and up the hill. "He's the best damned shuttle pilot in the Alliance. He landed that thing."

"Yeah… yeah," James mumbled, his characteristic swagger conspicuously absent. "Damn right he did."

Garrus silently followed them, not doubting Cortez's skills as a pilot, just hoping that he hadn't landed in Reaper-infested territory.

Because if Shepard learned Cortez was dead, this war might be already lost.

~o~O~o~

The Normandy

It was nearly silent on the ship, and had been for hours now, the only sounds heard were the straining engines as Joker kept them out of harm's way.

Abby rested her forehead against the cool glass of the dominant window in the observation lounge, her view blocked by the massive metal shutters designed to enhance hull integrity. The fighting today would be the fiercest ever seen by the united fleet, but this struggle was an old, familiar one for the Reapers, one they believed they would win today.

With a heavy sigh, she turned and moved around what had become her home, her eyes moving around the room, committing it to memory. She gazed at the bed and climbed into it, burying her face into James's pillow, the scent of him still strong.

Her eyelids slid closed as her body reveled in the memories of their night together. She again felt his thick fingers tracing her hips, his mouth tasting her, his weight between her thighs, and she whimpered with heartbreak. James didn't know it, but last night had been their final night together, and she… she'd been far too selfish to tell him.

He'd left this morning to fight for Earth, his life in immeasurable jeopardy, and she'd assured herself that not telling him of her vision, of her visit from Alistair and her impending departure, was the right thing to do. James couldn't afford to be distracted, she'd reasoned. She knew from experience that he must not allow anything to detract from his confidence, that he needed her love and her faith in him as a man – her man – to be the last thing she shared with him before he faced the Reapers.

Lying in the softness of their bed, his pillow tucked under her chin, she struggled against the overwhelming conviction that she'd withheld the truth from him not for his wellbeing, but for hers. Her pathetic choice would deny him the explanation he was due for the pain her departure would bring. She'd removed, without a second thought, his only chance to rage and to mourn with her at the cruel twist the universe had given her, given them.

And now he was in London, and it was too late.

Breaking down, she cradled his pillow, sobbing into it.

~o~O~o~

The FOB, London

Shepard and his small team, having been safely uplifted from the surface after destroying the Hades Cannon, explored the shambles that was the united fleet's forward operating base. Garrus had sought out some of his own people while James, restless and irritable, had found a working terminal, where he grimly studied the KIA and MIA statistics that relentlessly poured in through the feeds.

Anderson had taken a few minutes away from co-ordinating Hammer, and joined Shepard at an upstairs window, where the commander was silently and blankly looking out over a ruined street.

"A deep breath before the last push," Anderson said, watching the commander closely.

"Hmm."

"None of this would have happened without you, Adam. Don't lose hope now."

"I know. It's just hard seeing Earth like this." He turned toward his former captain but didn't quite look at him. "You were born here, in London. Can't imagine…" He shook his head.

"It's just bricks and mortar, as they say. It can be rebuilt."

"And what about the people we've lost? They can't be so easily replaced."

"No. No, they can't."

The two friends shared a minute of quiet contemplation before Shepard spoke again.

"Did you ever talk to Kahlee Sanders?"

A small grunt of amusement left Anderson's mouth. "Yeah, got to chat with her over the QEC for a couple minutes. She's safe and having a ball working on the Crucible. We said our goodbyes… just in case."

"You'll get through this, Anderson. You'll see her again."

"Thanks, Shepard. I hope so. And… how about you? Is there anyone?"

Adam leaned forward on the sill, making sure he avoided the shards of broken glass that poked out of it. "He was shot down keeping a Harvester off us. James is going through the feeds."

"Anything?"

Shepard shook his head. "Not yet."

"Then there's still hope. Did you talk to the comm. tech downstairs? If your pilot's reported in, he'll be able to raise him for you."

Adam's head snapped around. "Where is he?"

Anderson pointed across the street. "See that building there? Lower level. There might be a queue but I'll radio ahead, tell him to let you cut in line."

"No, don't do that. I'll wait in line like everyone else."

"Admiral?" a voice called from the other side of the room, and both men looked up to see Major Coats, who was walking towards them, his expression grim. "The last of Hammer's reporting in."

"Numbers?" asked Anderson, and Coats shook his head.

"Barely 50%."

"Damn it," Anderson muttered, walking away from Adam. "Shepard, take care of your business and meet me up here." He activated his omni-tool. "Specialist Grant? Commander Shepard's on his way to you. Let him cut in. I need him back up here ASAP."

"Roger that."

"Get moving, Shepard," Anderson ordered as he left the room.

"Yes, sir," Adam replied, already taking the ladder down.

~o~O~o~

With EDI's help Abby had made a message for Shepard, but her final task, explaining her circumstances to James, was one of the most heartbreaking moments in her life. She'd been struggling to make the recording for some time and was afraid time was running out.

"Maker, please, give me the courage to do this," she begged, her voice shaking. "I can't leave him with nothing."

Drawing a ragged breath, she touched the keypad and gazed at the small red light that indicated she was being recorded.

"Hi," she breathed through trembling lips. "I've tried to make this… well, this is my fourth time now. I have so much I need to say you, there's so much I need to explain, but… I can't. I keep getting lost in the fact that I will never see you again," she explained, wiping fresh tears that had spilled down her cheeks. "Bloody hell, I hate this," she whispered, her hands covering her face.

A few achingly silent moments later, she held her gaze with the camera. "I awoke today, and you knew something was wrong, and you were right, but I couldn't burden you with it, not when you faced such a horrendous battle. I had a dream, James, and things were… explained to me, things that I can't deny."

She stifled a sob, her pain making her voice crack.

"The simple truth is, I'm not supposed to stay here. I didn't know, I didn't understand, but I've been shown I was brought here to fulfill a specific purpose. I'm not alone – my connection to my past, to my… to my faith, aren't gone as I'd thought. What I now know is that I've been 'repurposed', for lack of a better term, and once Adam completes his part, once the fate of the Reapers is decided, I will be taken… sent away, a new task before me."

As her explanation left her lips, she couldn't restrain her tears and she began to cry in earnest.

"I don't want this, James, I want to be here with you. I love you, Maker I love you so much, but none of that will sway what's to come. I wish I wasn't going to hurt you like this," she paused, drawing a slow breath, settling herself. "But I am, aren't I?"

She wrapped her arms around her middle and closed her eyes. "I love you. If my life was mine to live, it would have been shared with you, James Vega, and I will miss what we should have had, forever, because it's what I want more than anything," she confessed, her vivid eyes opening, tears again clouding her vision. "Forgive me for not saying goodbye in person. I needed to protect you from this for as long as I could." Leaning forward, she wiped her eyes and propped her chin in her hand. "Be well, James, please be happy and know that I love you. Always."

With a dead smile, she touched the screen and ended the recording.

~o~O~o~

Upon entering the building across the street, Shepard was surprised to see there was no line for him to cut in. Of course, he realised with a stab of guilt, the rest of the troops would have been ordered to their posts. How many of them were still waiting for news, wondering if their friends, their loved ones, were still alive?

And, because he was Commander Shepard, he would get to find out before them. That wasn't fair, but as soon as Adam set eyes on the comm. tech he knew he couldn't turn back. He had to know. If Steve was alive Shepard would regain his focus, would be able to rally his men – his friends – with a confidence and conviction that he actually felt.

And if Steve was dead… well then, Shepard would take as many of those Reaper bastards down with him as he could in payback for depriving the Alliance of yet another fine officer.

For depriving Adam of the man who'd injected colour into his black and white life.

It was not knowing that was the worst thing. Adam felt as though he was wearing concrete boots, as though he was walking through quicksand. It seemed to take an age for him to reach the tech station and when he did, the comm. specialist was ready for him.

"Who can I get for you, Commander?"

"Um… Lieutenant Steve Cortez. Steven. Alliance shuttle pilot. I don't know if you'll be able to, he was shot down –"

The specialist studied his screen and nodded. "Lieutenant Cortez… he's standing by for you, sir."

Adam's heart leapt and he gawked at the other man, his skin flushing, his voice hoarse when he spoke. "You sure it's the right Cortez? Is there more than one?"

"Registered here as the Normandy's shuttle pilot, under your command, sir. He reported in about an hour ago. Hate to hurry you, Commander, but I can only keep the QEC open for so long."

"Put him through, Specialist," said Adam, unable to keep a grin from showing, "and thank you."

The blue transparent image of Cortez appeared, and the pilot immediately stepped forward, relief registering on his flickering features. "Thank God you're alive," he breathed. "You okay?"

Adam's head fell back and he laughed quietly to himself, taking a step forward to meet Steve's image. "I am now. Were you hurt?"

"Just my pride," admitted Steve with a rueful shake of his head. "The Kodiak's a write-off. James'll have a field day. I just lost my best comeback to, well, pretty much everything he ever says," he chuckled.

"Only if we tell him," Shepard teased with a quick glance at the specialist, who quietly excused himself, leaving them to talk alone. "Don't ever do that to me again, Steve, you hear me?"

"I hear ya. I'm grounded now, and safe, so I want you to put me out of your head and do what you're here to do, okay?"

"Put you out of my head? I can't do that. But now you're safe I know I've got something to come back to. Something to live for."

"Make sure you do come back to me," Steve murmured softly, moving one of his hands close to Adam's.

Shepard looked down and wrapped his fingers around Steve's holographic ones as best he could. "You got it."

A throat was roughly cleared and Adam looked up, seeing that the specialist had stepped back in, his eyes on the ground.

"Sorry, Commander. I need to shut this down and head upstairs. Wish I could give you longer, but, orders."

"Of course." Adam released Steve's 'hand' and waved at him. "I'll see you soon, okay?"

Steve nodded and waved back. "I'll be waiting for you."

~o~O~o~

EDI peered out of the upper-floor window, watching as Shepard crossed over to Lieutenant Vega, who was furiously concentrating on his omni-tool readout and a small terminal situated next to a barricade in the street.

The men talked for a short time and Vega's head bowed against his chest as Shepard clasped his shoulder. Then, they exchanged the curious half-hug, half-wrestling match EDI had occasionally observed male organics participate in: plenty of back-thumping, absolutely no genital contact and a rapid separation when the embrace was over, as though an electrical current had passed between the two of them.

Lieutenant Vega then proceeded to whoop and punch the air, and Shepard quickly shook his hand before running inside the building she, and the Hammer co-ordination teams, were in.

It seemed that Shepard and Vega had exchanged good news. She looked around at the sea of pinched faces inside the room, wondering whether any more favourable tidings would be forthcoming, deciding that the likelihood was remote.

If the Normandy had served as the foundation of her education about organics, the FOB was the intermediate level. The people here weren't acting like the Normandy crew, Shepard in particular: when under pressure he was a force of nature who cleaned house and quickly moved on, or so it seemed, the rest of the Normandy crew (gladly) swept along with him.

Here, though, facing the end of their civilisation, these organics were not acting like that at all. They were cautious, taciturn, calculating. Perhaps, EDI postulated, numbers were a factor: Shepard was responsible for the lives of the Normandy crew, but these people – Anderson, Coats and the other battalion leaders – held in their hands the lives of not only a group, a race or even a species, but of an entire galaxy.

Even EDI could not calculate how many individual lives that meant, or how heavily that burden weighed upon these men's shoulders. She had certainly seen Shepard driven close to breaking point a time or two and yet, in this desperate hour, these men were the epitome of stoicism and professionalism.

Jeff had once told her that organics sometimes needed to relinquish control and 'let the cards fall where they may' – to be fatalistic. But what she was seeing here, if fatalism, was a controlled fatalism. An oxymoron, if ever there was one, but there it was.

As she watched Shepard ascend the ladder and clamber up to the level she stood on, she considered that she was not as enlightened about organics as she'd previously thought. He breezed past, exchanging a nod with her, and stood at Anderson's table, waiting to be addressed.

He was also not behaving normally. Far from the driven, pugnacious and emotionally reactive man EDI had observed while he was under duress, Shepard was, like the rest of the men at the table, focused, rational… almost relaxed. Considering that many of those men would not return from the forthcoming battle, she found this perplexing to say the least.

Perhaps, she concluded, there was no 'norm' when it came to organics' behaviour.

"Shepard," Anderson began, looking up. "You with us?"

"Yes, sir," he answered with warmth and determination in his voice.

With a faint smile and a nod from Anderson, Shepard was ushered to the head of the table, where he stood next to Major Coats while the admiral laid out their plans.

~o~O~o~

The briefing over, Shepard was given a few minutes to talk to his crew. He gathered them in an adjacent room where he paced in front of them, a slight smile on his face, resolve in his eyes and purpose in his gait.

"You know, here, in this room, are the most important people in my life," he began, quirking an eyebrow and grinning. "… Almost all of them," he amended with a brief laugh. "You're my friends, my family, so much more than a crew and while some of us have been together longer than others, it doesn't matter. You've always stuck by me and always believed in me, and I want you all to know how much that means to me. I want to tell you now how much I believe in you, because I probably don't say it as often as I should."

Hearing a few quiet coos from Liara and Tali, he paused before addressing each person in turn.

"Garrus, you never left my side once. You've seen me do some pretty shady things over the years, and seen me act in ways an Alliance officer probably shouldn't. I knowyou haven't always agreed with me but you never questioned me, at least until we were in private, and then you let me have it," he joked, raising a few chuckles. "That's what a true friend does – he has your back but isn't afraid to tell you you're a jerk. Thank you for keeping me on the straight and narrow."

"Same here, Shepard," replied the turian quietly.

"Kaidan," Adam went on, and the major drew a deep breath, straightening his posture. "We went through Ash's death together and you, too, were a source of strength and kept my feet on the ground. We had that little blip with the whole Cerberus deal, but let's not go there," he quipped, and Kaidan snorted, shaking his head. "But you came back to the Normandy when I needed you, and that's all that matters. And now look at you – Spectre Alenko, Major Alenko. I'm proud of you, Kai. You've come a long way from that quiet, thoughtful lieutenant on the SR-1. Don't lose that part of yourself, because this brash, reckless, maverick commander will always need a friend like that. Yin and Yang, right?"

"Right," Kaidan mumbled thickly before clearing his throat.

"Admiral Tali'Zorah vas Normandy," Adam said, and Tali dipped her head. "We first met while you were on Pilgrimage. A thousand-to-one chance, but without you and your evidence against Saren, the Council would never have listened, would never have made me a Spectre, would never have gotten me command of the Normandy. We can all guess what would have happened then. We wouldn't even be standing here because Sovereign and Saren would have won. Every person in this room owes you their lives, Tali. I think it's fair to say you completed your Pilgrimage."

"Thanks, Shepard," she murmured.

"And Liara, since we met on Therum –"

"Since you rescued me," she corrected.

He shrugged. "Well. You've been a friend of a different kind. You're the one who makes sure I'm getting enough sleep, the one who comes to check on me when things aren't going well. But you don't sit there and commiserate, offering platitudes. You offer solutions. When you don't have one, you look for one. When you can't find one, you know someone who can. And, on the few occasions when there hasn't been a solution, I know you've been there and that I've been in your thoughts, and sometimes, Liara, that's enough. Thank you."

"And thank you for all you've done for me," she replied sincerely.

"EDI," he said, turning to the AI. "We didn't exactly get off on the right foot. In fact, you tried to kill us on Luna."

"An unfortunate oversight on my part."

"But that can be excused, because you weren't self-aware. Let's scratch that and start again on the SR-2. At first, I didn't trust you," he confessed.

"A prudent stance."

"But time and time again, EDI, you proved your loyalty not to the Illusive Man, not to Cerberus, but to the Normandy and its crew. You want to know when you truly became a member of my crew – a friend – in my mind? When you told Joker to remove your shackles. Because of that, the Normandy crew lived to end the Collectors."

"That is not entirely true," she argued. "It was Jeff who removed my shackles. Without him –"

"No, EDI. It was you who knew you were limited by the shackles. It was you who knew you could only save the Normandy by taking control of it. It was you who did the right thing. That wasn't programming or obeying the Illusive Man's commands, because he didn't even know it was happening. You hadn't altered your self-preservation routines because you were still shackled, so no one can say you did it to save yourself. You did it to save your crewmates."

"And those crewmates are now your friends," Tali said, to everyone's agreement.

"Thank you," EDI said to them all.

"And James," Adam said, facing the marine, "I got to know you in Vancouver while I was locked up and you were my bodyguard. Then, you found yourself on the Normandy and you weren't too thrilled about that."

"That's 'cause I wanted to stay here, boss."

"I know. You stuck it out, though, and although we haven't always seen eye-to-eye, you're a hell of a soldier and I'm glad you did stay with us. I think part of the reason we sometimes clash is because you remind me of myself, and there's no room for two Shepards. But there's also no room for two James Vegas. I've watched you grow as a person since you came aboard the Normandy and I'm damned proud of you. I'm also proud to count you among my friends, James."

Vega stepped forward and shook Shepard's hand, but he didn't speak, and rejoined the others.

"Anyone looking in on this group would be struck by how different we seem from each other," Adam continued, "but the differences are only skin deep. It amazes me, considering how diverse we are, how many similarities we actually share."

"How many similarities organics share," EDI countered, and Adam stepped forward, patting her shoulder.

"No. How many we share. Us. We all know the importance of loyalty, of building lasting, meaningful relationships. Of doing the right thing. Of being there for each other. That is what the Reapers don't have. They'll never know what it is to have friends, to love, to feel joy, to cry, to experience loneliness or despair. Those are the times when we know who our true friends are. The Reapers will never understand that. Pity them."

He stepped back from EDI and drew a breath, standing tall, his hands folded behind his back. "They'll never have what we have, and that is why we'll defeat them, because we all have something calling us home, something worth fighting for. They don't have a home. They have nothing."

"Fuckin' A!" James hollered, and the rest of Shepard's friends straightened up, bolstered by his words.

"Now let's get out there and win this thing," Adam said, and his friends queued up to exchange handshakes, hugs and their own, private, words of thanks.

Adam selected his two oldest friends, Garrus and Kaidan, to take point with him and, while they took a minute, he found a quiet corner where he cued up his omni-tool, remembering he had a promise to keep.

Finding the appropriate sound file, he played Abby's last words to him, nodding as he spoke along with them, satisfied he'd committed her message to memory.

Fight against what your heart wants. Embrace that which is ugly and monstrous. Choose pain. Choose death and sorrow and loss. It is your only salvation.

"Got it, Abby," he said quietly, looking up at the ceiling. "I'll see you soon."

Ignoring the fluttering in his stomach, he donned his 'commander's hat' and walked into the next room, ready to lead his closest friends into the unknown.