***Author's Note***
This chapter, out of every one I've written so far, really resonated with me the most when
I was finished. There were parts of it that I dreaded having to write as I neared them, and
by the end I felt physically drained. The game mentions Mindoir on a couple of occasions,
but I never felt they did justice to exactly what Shepard lost on that colony world. I just hope
I have.

Enjoy, and as always, thanks for the reviews and adds, they mean a lot to me.

Chapter 21 – Innocence

He stands at the metal fence, leaning against it and looking out over the fields of wheat swaying gently in the evening wind. The sun sets in the distance, a red-orange sphere that seems so close he could fall into it if he walked towards it long enough. He chews absent-mindedly on the stick of gum he'd unwrapped five hours ago, ignoring the fact that it's lost all taste as he wonders if there's any habitable planet in the galaxy on which wheat won't grow. The thought makes him pause; none that he knows of. Then again, he thinks with a sigh, looking past the setting sun and into the stars of the Traverse beyond, he's only been on one.

He brushes a piece of hair out from in front of his face; his father was always on him to cut it, but he liked his shoulder-length hair, it reminded him of the difference between himself and his brother, and he had vowed to keep it to the day he died. As if summoned by the very mention of him in thought, Alex calls to him from behind.

"Hey, space-for-brains, mom called you for dinner like half an hour ago!" He turns to see his brother walking through the tall grass towards him, and though he had insulted him, a smile played across his face, one that John couldn't help returning. He had always been close to Alex, they were best friends and they knew it. He turned for one last glance at the wind-blown wheat, his favorite sight in the universe, and then moved to meet his brother, punching him in the arm as they closed.

"Owwwww," Alex moaned, feigning injury and rubbing over-dramatically at his bicep. "I need those for picking up the ladies, Johnny-boy!" John just shook his head and laughed as they walked back towards the house. Though only twelve minutes his elder, Alex always called him 'boy' or 'kid', anything to get under his brother's skin. John was in too good a mood today though, his father had declared the wheat crop ready to harvest, and John had wanted to see it sway in the breeze one more time before they cut it all down until next season.

"Oh yea? And just which ladies are those?" His brother leaps to answer, he's baited John into asking.

"Anya Voss, that's 'which ladies'!" John's jaw almost hits the floor. The smartest, most popular girl in their class, and she's interested in Alex? He laughs, genuinely impressed at his brother's tenacity, and claps him on the arm as he responds.

"Well if she wanted a date with you before I destroyed your bicep, I think you'll manage afterward." Alex laughs but swings his arm in mock paralysis the entire walk home, and John is in tears when they approach the door of the medium-sized prefab in which they live. Their mother is already sitting at the table, and her glare at the boys is quickly turned into a smile and a slow head-shaking when John flashes her his winning smile.

"Come on, then," she calls to her boys, who sit at the table as their father walks in from the bedroom. His hair is wet, and he's wearing a fresh set of clothes, recently showered. Kissing his wife on the top of her head as he passes, he sits across from the boys, and they start to eat.

Father talks about the harvest, and John nods eagerly as he agrees to help the man in any way he can. Alex stirs his potatoes idly, mind elsewhere, and John's father smiles back at him, clearly proud of the boy who wants to help. John drinks it in, he idolizes his father. He is a kind, loving man, quick to comfort, slow to anger, and when he grows up he wants to be just like him. On nights when he lies in bed awake, frustrated a concept he doesn't understand in school or his latest relationship failure, he comforts himself by thinking to the future, promising himself he will look after his mother and father, see them comfortable and provide for them as they have for him. This thought warms his heart, and he always sleeps peacefully after thinking it.

After dinner, he and Alex walk outside into the darkening evening to lay on the grass. The sun has just dipped below the horizon, and everything is bathed in the indigo of twilight. They lay on their backs and look up at the stars. Alex speaks first.

"I want to see them, John." Mystery and anticipation comingle in his words. "I want to see all of them, meet aliens, explore the galaxy. Don't you ever want that?" John smiles, this conversation comes up at least once a month. He continues to stare into the night sky as he answers.

"Sure, I mean who doesn't? Travel the stars, meet cute alien girls," his brother jabs him in the ribs with his elbow and a knowing grin, and he laughs, then continues, "but I like it here. I love helping dad with the crops, I like the quiet evenings…" he trails off, not wanting to finish his sentence. Unfortunately, he is his brother's sibling, and the man knows him far too well. Well enough to finish his sentence for him, in fact.

"…you like Amy Keegan," he grins wickedly and narrowly rolls away to avoid John's punch. Rocking back into his original position with a laugh, he looks his brother in the eye.

"I'm going there one day, John. Dad thinks I'm no good at the farming game and he's right. But I've been working my ass off to make the cut for the Alliance recruiters. If I can get in there…I can go anywhere." His voice fills with wanderlust again as he gazes back into the sky.

John is looking at the stars as well, but he's too busy thinking about Amy to picture his brother in Alliance blues. Her soft brown hair, her knowing green eyes, her delicate three-fingered hands. Wait, what? he thinks to himself. He shakes his head, and the image disappears. What the hell was that? His brother looks over at him and smiles.

"Dreaming about Amy again, eh? Well can't say I blame you, she's pretty hot," another punch misses its mark as he deftly rolls away, flattening the grass below them. "Look Johnny seriously, if you want to stay here, that's…well that's cool. I'm glad you like it here. Me…I just hope there's a spot for me in the Alliance, cause I feel cooped up here." John nods, he knows how Alex feels, and he knows his brother will make the Alliance. They both do; though the Alliance rarely recruits in colonial space, the Traverse is close enough to home and the Citadel to be worth trying, and they do get a good handful of recruits. If Alex wants a spot, and has four working limbs plus a functioning brain, he's got it.

"Alex, John, come on inside!" Their father calls from the doorframe, and they both make to stand. Alex gets up first, then reaches down an arm to his brother. John grasps it, and for a second it too is a three-fingered hand, clad in soft black enviro-suit. He follows the attached arm back to a soft purple mask, and though he can't see it, he just knows that a warm smile lies beneath it. As quickly as it came, the image is gone, and Alex is back, smiling at him as he lifts John to his feet.

"Come on, you heard dad." They walk together back to the pre-fab.

"Alex," their father starts as they approach, "I need to speak to you in private…about your future, son." Alex gives John a knowing look. His father had purchased a rifle before coming out to the Traverse, "just in case," he had always said, and Alex had hoped he would inherit it from the second he made it clear he wanted to join the Alliance. John clapped him on the shoulder and walked past him into the house. His mother approached him as he entered the dining room.

"John, you have a visitor at the front door," she said with a smile. He nodded to her and stepped out onto the front porch, not looking fast enough to see the girl in the soft blue dress embrace him in a surprise hug. He squeezes her back and then holds her at arm's length, this girl he's crazy for. Even through her purple visor, he can see the eyes he loves to stare into. Wait… The image fades again, and Amy's soft skin and piercing green eyes regard him as she smiles.

"It's late," he starts, an air of suspicion in his voice.

"I know, space-for-brains," she says as she slaps him harmlessly on the chest. He rubs it and smiles as he responds.

"Alex beat you to that insult today, darling," she grins and leans forward to kiss him, then takes his hand in hers and moves off the porch.

"Come on," she says, just above a whisper. He follows her willingly, he'd follow her anywhere, but continuously looks back over his shoulder to make sure he's not seen. He isn't. She leads him past the rows of prefab units and weaves between them, before they arrive at her own. He looks at her quizzically, and she giggles.

"My parents left today, they're off-world, visiting my grandma back on Earth. Told me to hold down the fort, but it's a lot to hold down by my lonesome…" she trails off, looking at him with suggestive eyes, and he smiles back down at her, opening the door and gesturing her in as she steps inside, never taking her eyes off of his. As soon as she clears the door, she grabs the front of his shirt in a balled fist, pulling him in and touching the access panel to lock it behind them.

The next few moments are a blur. She's ripping his shirt off. In her haste she takes a button off of it. He curses, she tells him to shut up and kiss her, he does. Seconds fly past, she's running her fingers across his chest, he's pushing her dress up and pulling down her underwear. As soon as they hit the floor she stops, holding him at arm's length, and for the first time he sees fear in her eyes. This beautiful, vibrant, wonderful girl, is afraid of what's about to happen. He smiles softly, cupping her face in his hands, and leans forward to kiss her, a long and passionate ordeal. When he pulls away, she steps forward from her leaning position on the wall and delicately takes his hand, leading him to her room.

They stand at the foot of her bed and he places his hands on her waist. She smiles up at him and sits down, crawling backwards onto the bed and gazing at him to follow. He strips off the rest of his clothes, and she blushes when she looks upon him for the first time, unconsciously biting her lower lip as he crawls into her bed over top of her. His face is inches from hers, and she reaches her head up to delicately peck his neck with kisses. He whispers.

"I…I haven't really…well, ever…" she laughs softly, and it's his turn to blush, but she places a hand on the side of his cheek, and smiles at him lovingly.

"Neither have I, John." He visibly relaxes, and nods to her, returning her smile. She kisses his lips, and he presses down softly to lay her back against the sheets as he moves inside her. She stifles a gasp, and he resists the urge to ask her if she's alright. His eyes say it for him, though, and she smiles breathlessly. "Don't stop, idiot." He smiles and nods nervously and moves slowly within her, her hips rocking into his. She sighs and moans as often as she cries out in pain or digs her nails into his back, and he doesn't even think of himself as he kisses her neck. Her hand runs through his hair, and he loves the feeling.

Something stirs within him, something primal, something animalistic. His movements go deeper, his passion rising as he feels himself begin to climax. Her eyes are closed, and she bites her lower lip again, but wraps her legs around his own and moans in concert with him. He picks up speed, and her hands come off of him, gripping the bedsheets as she writhes beneath him. Her breathing quickens, and just as he thinks he's about to finish, she climaxes, arching her back and yelling so loud he looks to her window and wonders if the neighbors hear.

"Oh, Keelah, John!"

What? He looks down and sees her, the woman he cares so much for. Her enviro-suit fits so snugly that he can see the heaving of her chest as she relaxes, and though her visor hides her facial expressions, he'd bet everything he owns that her eyes are closed, a smile across her face. He smiles before thinking about it, and by the time he looks back the image is gone. Amy's body lies underneath his, her chest heaving with heavy breathing. He leans back down, rolling off of her to the side and kissing her down her neck, she puts her hand back in his hair, and he is completely content, holding her until they fall asleep.

John bolts awake to the strange sounds, leaping from the bed and getting his clothes on in a rush. Gunfire. Screaming. He shakes her awake and she groggily sits up before snapping to attention at the sounds. She looks at him, panic in her eyes, and he takes her hand, running for the door. It opens before he can reach it, and the most terrifying thing he's ever seen walks in. Larger head, four eyes, sharp teeth, it smiles wickedly and raises an electrical prod. John's been in enough fights to know his opponent is overconfident. He pushes Amy behind him and steps up to challenge the monster. It laughs, a short, sadistic noise, and lunges forward. John sidesteps, twisting the prod out of the thing's hands and kicking it in the kneecap in one fluid motion. It falls, and he viciously stabs the prod into the back of its neck. It twitches for a few seconds and then lies still. Looking around the body, John takes the pistol at its hip and activates it, trying to remember in seconds everything Alex has taught him about firearms. Extending his hand to Amy again, she takes it and he leads the way out of the door.

They step out into Hell. Everywhere around them the monsters are killing or shocking people, implanting their skulls with some kind of chip and stuffing them into transport containers as they scream. He wants to vomit, but there's no time. Clutching her hand, he sprints across the main area, moving fast to avoid detection from the preoccupied monsters. They reach his house quickly, but the door is locked. Amy rushes to it, and begins entering the failsafe sequence. He covers her, looking around and allowing himself a small smile. He'd taught her the code so she could sneak in and spend the night next to him when her father had been drinking again, who knew it would save their lives tonight?

He's not looking at the door, he's looking out at the yard, and so the only evidence he has that something is wrong are three short sounds. The woosh of the opening door, the sharp crack of the gunshot, and her surprised whimper of pain. He swings his head around and sees her clutching her stomach, falling to the floor as his gaze moves into his home. Another monster stands, and is already aiming the smoking weapon at John, grinning wickedly. He has every advantage; time, training, probably a better weapon.

John has rage.

He lunges forward, going into a roll to dodge the shot that instead flies out the doorway, and comes up swinging. His first punch catches the monster in the face, loosing teeth. The second strike, his left elbow, crushes in two of his four hideous eyes, and the third, a balled fist to the throat, sends the target to his knees, grasping desperately at his collapsed larynx. John takes the monster's own gun from him and coldly unloads a round into the thing's head. He follows it with two more before dropping the gun and running back to the door. Amy reaches for him, trembling, and he takes her hand, frantically searching around for a cloth or medicine or…anything. She laughs, a small quiet noise, and his attention goes back to her face.

"I just…" she begins, and he leans forward, kissing her forehead and gripping her hand so tight he's afraid he's breaking it. She brings her free hand up to stroke his cheek, and he leans into it with his face, tears openly flowing from his eyes. "I just…wanted you, John. I'm...I'm happy, darling." She smiles at him, and sobs escape him as her eyes glaze over, her hand slowly sliding down from his cheek. Minutes pass as he holds her body, and the sounds of increased gunfire erupt from outside the prefab, but he doesn't notice it. He also doesn't notice the blue engine flares of the Alliance dropships bringing in reinforcements, or the orange flares of the monsters' ships taking off with their sick cargo.

After what feels like an entire lifetime, he lets her body go softly to the floor, and checks the other rooms. In one, his mother, bullet holes in her chest. Her father is not far away, in a similar state. Their hands are locked together, fingers intertwined. They died as one. He will never forget this image as long as he lives. Hoping beyond hope, he follows the trail of carnage to Alex's room, and swallows hard before opening the panel. Alex lays prone in front of his bed, the rifle inches away. He's taken one bullet, clean through the head, and he lies in a pool of his own blood. John steps forward and kneels before his brother's body, placing a hand on his warm, sticky head and crying.

Minutes pass again, and John has lost all emotion. He robotically picks up the rifle from beside his brother's corpse, staining the handle with the blood on his hands as he hefts it, and walks back to the room where his parents have died. He takes the small beaded necklace from around his father's neck, and clasps it around his own. His mother had made it for him, and he would not die without something of theirs in his possession. He was the Shepard family now, and Shepard's didn't go down without a fight.

Over his shoulder he hears the sound of someone hacking their door. Eyes holding fire, death in his hands, he moves to stand right in front of it. He looks down at her again, her three—no, five-fingered hands laying to either side of her body, and he cries silently. He will die beside her. But he's going to kill them all first. The door opens with a soft woosh, and he unloads, staring into the face of the mons—they're not monsters. He releases the trigger as the bullets bounce off the Alliance soldier's kinetic barriers. The blue shield shatters, and a tense moment passes before the soldier reaches forward calmly.

"Come on, son, put down the gun. It's alright, they're all gone now, we got here as quick as we could." John's hands shake. No, this isn't happening. Now? They're here now? The rifle clatters to the floor, and the soldier moves forward to catch John as he falls forward. "Easy there, lad, easy there. Come on, come with me, we're gettin' you out of here."

Numbly he follows, his feet moving only because they know how to on their own after sixteen years of learning. The soldier leads him to a shuttle, the shuttle leads him to a ship, the ship's crew lead him to his quarters. No one knows where they'll take him; he doesn't know where he wants to go. They ask if he has family, he stares them in the eye until they apologize and leave. Third shift comes, and the lights go out. He lies wide awake in the darkness, staring at the wall. All he can see are their faces, faces that will haunt him for years to come. Sleep comes for him, and before he sleeps he wonders what her face looked like behind that purple visor…

Shepard opens his eyes, he's back in the void. He wants to slam his fist against something, anything, but nothing is here. Raging, unable to strike out at something, he collapses into sobbing. He wants to be glad that he's going to be back soon, glad that he's going to be able to see Tali again. He obviously cares for her if his ever-shifting dream was any indication, but at this point, here and now, all he can do is sob.

And so Commander John Shepard, Hero of the Citadel, clutched himself in his own arms, floating in the void, and cried uncontrollably for his family.

His family, and Amy Keegan.