"Dying, everyone reminding

Hearts are washed in misery

Drenched in gasoline

Laughter, there is no more laughter

Songs of yesterday now live

In the underground"

Before the Lobotomy – Green Day

Joker walked into the dark, silent apartment, turning on lights as he went. He made a beeline for the fridge, pulled out a cold beer, and twisted off the cap. He flicked it towards the sink, not caring when he missed and it went skittering across the counter. It had been a long day, and he was tired. Spending all of his days on the Normandy, and all of his evenings with Shepard, was starting to take a toll. He flopped onto the couch and was about to turn on the TV when he noticed the extranet terminal blinking. He debated whether or not to ignore it. He got periodic messages from the Normandy's crew, wanting updates on Shepard's status and a timeframe for when they would be back in action. There wasn't much he could tell them, causing frustration on both ends. But he knew they had good intentions and that Shepard would want him to keep them informed, so he tried to respond in a somewhat timely fashion. Sighing, he pulled up his inbox.

But the message wasn't from a teammate. It was from his mother.

Jeffrey,

We're leaving Arcturus first thing in the morning, and should arrive in Seattle the following evening. I have your contact information, and will let you know when we arrive on Earth. We are looking forward to seeing you and Samantha.

Love,

Mom

Well, fuck. With all that had happened, Joker had completely forgotten about his parents' impending visit.

Joker had contacted them before the trial, when he and Shepard had first arrived on Earth. He hadn't wanted them to hear about the events in Bahak on the news vids. Louise had listened to his recitation without interruption. When he'd concluded, she'd merely said, "Well, I'm sure Samantha did what she thought was best."

Joker had been surprised by her response. "Yeah, she did."

"Then I'm sure that the Alliance will see that, as well."

Once the trial had concluded, Joker had kept them updated about what was happening – Shepard's sentence, his work on the Normandy, his impressions of Seattle. Louise had been the one to suggest a visit.

"It's been a long time since your father and I have been to Earth, and I don't think I've ever been to Seattle. You could show us around. Perhaps we could even look at some possible locations for your wedding."

"Mom, we're not thinking about the wedding right now. I'm not sure Shep…Sam would want to get married here, anyway."

"Why not? She's from Earth, isn't she? And we still have family there. It could work out well for all involved."

Joker had been noncommittal and had hoped that the subject had been dropped. Now he realized that he should have known better.

His parents were on their way, oblivious to the untimely arrival of the ghost from Shepard's past and her subsequent incarceration. He took another long pull on the beer and looked around the ransacked apartment. 48 hours to prepare. Then he would have some explaining to do.

"My folks are coming for a visit," Joker informed Shepard the next evening when he visited her at the detention center.

She shot him a sidelong glance. "Really? That seems like," he watched her visibly struggle to find the right words, "a bad idea," she concluded, apparently settling on a vast understatement. "I have a full house," she added, displaying the cards so that he could see.

Joker threw his cards face down on the table. "Ya think?" he retorted, words dripping with sarcasm.

"Hey, now, don't be a sore loser," Shepard admonished, shuffling the deck. "Besides, I didn't invite your parents. If you know it's a bad idea, then why are they coming?"

"Because my mother's insane, and I didn't act quickly enough to intervene in her evil plan."

"Ah. Well, good luck with that."

"Yeah. Thanks." Joker picked up the cards Shepard had dealt. "Give me two," he said, tossing the discards on the table. "No word yet on when you're getting out of here, huh? I don't suppose it might be tomorrow?"

"I seriously doubt it." Shepard discarded one and took a replacement. "I think you're on your own."

"Great."

"How are things going with the Normandy?" It was a small inquiry, but it made Joker inordinately happy. It'd been almost three weeks, and being locked up was wearing on her, but Shepard seemed more engaged with the world around her than she had been before their talk.

"Good. The retrofits are mostly done. Now we just need to take 'er for a test drive."

"I'd love to. When you come up with a plan to bust me outta here, let me know." Shepard's wistful tone belied the humor of the words.

"I bet 1,000," Joker declared.

"I call."

"I have two pair," Joker informed her. "Eights and tens."

"Flush," Shepard said, grinning. "Which means you now owe me," she pretended to do the math in her head, "115,000 credits."

The questions began the moment Joker met his parents at the spaceport without Shepard. He explained the situation as best he could. His folks were indignant on Shepard's behalf, and Marc, in particular, had some strong words concerning the ignorance of the Alliance hierarchy. Joker appreciated their support, but by the time he was helping them drag their luggage out of the cab, he already had the makings of a migraine throbbing behind his eyes.

Joker got them settled into the spare bedroom and gave them a tour of the small apartment, which took about two minutes. His father accepted a beer and settled across from Joker at the small dining room table while his mother "freshened up" in the bathroom.

"Mmm, this is good," Marc commented, examining the label on the bottle.

"Yeah, not bad, huh? I've been experimenting with the stouts lately. This city has an endless supply of microbrews."

"Not a bad thing to recommend it," his father said, appreciatively.

"Nope."

"So, how is Sam doing?" Marc asked earnestly, apparently dispensing with the small talk.

Joker sighed. "She's better now than she was at first. The hardest part is the uncertainty. They've got her locked up indefinitely. Even criminals get a trial and a predetermined sentence. This is all just a bunch of political posturing."

"And you? How are you doing?"

"I don't know, Pop. I miss her. When we were together, being here was okay, but with every day that passes, I feel more and more like we should be out there doing something. What happened in Bahak was just the beginning."

Louise entered the kitchen and took a seat at the table.

"Beer?" Joker offered.

"Would it be too much to ask for some coffee?"

"Nah, I can just throw some beans in the machine. You want some, Dad?"

"No, thanks."

Joker got up and started prepping the coffee maker, grateful for something to do. He set the machine to make four cups and grabbed two more beers before resettling at the table.

"It's good to see you, Jeffrey," Louise said, covering her hand with his. "I'm sorry if this ended up being a bad time."

"It's okay, Mom. You had no way of knowing what was going on. It's my fault for not keeping you informed. But I'm happy that you're here." Joker was surprised to realize that it was the truth. The apartment had been far too empty lately. It was nice to have some company.

"I just wanted to say again that I'm sorry for the way I acted when you and Samantha came to visit…"

"Mom, it's okay. You already apologized."

"I know, but I am truly sorry. I just want you to be happy. That's all I've ever wanted." Louise squeezed his hand.

"I know, Ma. We're good." Joker returned the squeeze and then rose to fill a mug as the coffee maker signaled the conclusion of the brewing process.

They sat around the table talking until the coffee and beer were gone. Joker was the first to surrender, explaining that he had to be up early for work. Exhausted, he disrobed and crawled between the sheets. All the talk of Shepard had turned his mood sour and his heart and body ached for her. He wasn't sure how much longer he could stand this irresolution.

Two days later, Joker was deep in conversation with Adams on the Normandy when a dark shadow fell across the cockpit. The day had been sunny with few clouds in the sky, and certainly none capable of casting that kind of gloom. Puzzled, he glanced through the skylight, and at first, his brain absolutely refused to translate the image his eyes were transmitting. Then he heard Adams breathe, "Oh, my God," and the paralysis broke.

The enormous, black Reaper blocked out the sun. As they gaped, it emitted an ear-rending mechanical moan and a red laser erupted from the underbelly. Everything in its path disintegrated under the onslaught.

It was then that Joker realized the laser was pointed toward where the Alliance HQ and detention center were.

His omni-tool crackled to life.

"Jeff?" It was Shepard, sounding a bit frantic.

"Shepard! The Reapers…"

"I know. They just hit the HQ. Ash and James are on their way. Anderson and I are right behind them. Can the Normandy be ready to go?"

"Um, yeah, I guess. I'll have EDI start running a systems check." Joker's brain felt sluggish, the thoughts coming at half speed. He couldn't stop staring at the Reaper. Its enormity was mind-boggling.

"Okay. Get her powering up. We need to move, double-time."

Joker's thought process suddenly kicked back online. "Shepard! My parents!"

She hesitated for only a second. "Where are they? The apartment?"

"No! I was planning to work a half day and then meet them for lunch at some wedding venue they wanted me to see."

"Where?"

"Shit! I don't remember." Joker tore his eyes from the roof, trying to recall their conversation from over breakfast this morning. "Alki Beach!" he announced, triumphantly.

He heard Anderson say, "Shepard, that's too far in the wrong direction!"

But when Shepard replied, she was her usual calm and collected self. "Okay. I'm going to try for the bridge. Get the Normandy ready for a pickup."

The Reaper let out another inhuman groan as the laser carved a new line of destruction through the downtown area. The sound penetrated Joker's skull. Buildings crumbled in its wake.

"Shepard," he said. "Be careful."

"Roger that. Shepard out."

Joker slid into the pilot's seat as Williams and Vega burst through the airlock. "Dude," Vega said. "What the fuck are those things?"

"EDI, we need a primary systems check, pronto. Emergency protocol, essential grids only."

"Yes, Jeff." EDI's orb flashed like a disco ball as she ran the required tests.

The was an earth-shaking rumble as the Reaper struck again, and Joker stared out the windshield, horrified, as the bridge across Puget Sound was rent in half.

The weight of the structure as it collapsed pulled several more miles of its length into the water behind it like a row of dominoes.

"Shepard!"

"Fuck!" came the instant reply. "They took out the bridge!"

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. We'd just started across." Shepard paused, thinking. "I can double back, try the viaduct."

"No! You need to get on the Normandy and get out of here, Shepard." The admiral sounded winded, but adamant.

"With all due respect, I don't take orders from you anymore, Anderson."

"Consider yourself reinstated, then. Now, get your ass on that ship, Commander. That's an order."

"Jeff?" That one word, softly spoken, conveyed a world of meaning.

In that moment, Joker both loved and hated her more than he ever had before. Loved her because he knew she was simply waiting for his request, willing to do whatever he asked, regardless of the consequences - and hated her for the same reason. If she would just make the decision, she could relieve him of the burden. If she refused to attempt a rescue, she would at least share in the blame for leaving his parents behind. If she sought them out, and died, well…he knew from experience who would shoulder that guilt and grief, alone. And if Commander Samantha Shepard was lost, there was a good chance that the rest of civilization would follow.

For maybe the first time, Joker truly understood what it was like to make a decision with lives hanging in the balance. Two lives versus billions. People he loved versus the nameless, faceless masses. And deep, in his darkest soul, the life of one he couldn't - wouldn't - risk versus two that he knew he would, if absolutely necessary. Their conversation about Kaidan flitted quickly through his memory. No matter what he chose, he was going to have regrets. It was an untenable situation.

"Primary systems online and fully operational, Jeff," EDI intoned.

Trying to speak around the lump in his throat, Joker managed to say what he always said at the conclusion of a mission. "Bring it home, Shepard."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

She paused for only a moment. "On our way."

Joker sat in the cockpit of the Normandy, nearly delirious with fatigue. He wasn't even sure how long he'd been awake, at this point - 32 hours? 36? He'd been on the Normandy for several hours before the Reapers' attack on Earth. Then they'd travelled to Mars, and on to the Citadel. They'd had only a skeleton crew onboard, and no other pilot. He could have let EDI take the helm, but even with the distraction of flying, he'd barely been able to take his mind off of the events preceding their escape. He hadn't been prepared to sit idle and allow them to overwhelm him. They'd been docked now for quite a while, but Shepard still hadn't returned from her meeting with the Council. He hadn't even seen her since they'd left Earth; didn't know if he wanted to see her. The guilt and pain he was feeling was all wrapped up in anger and blame, and it wasn't clear who, exactly, it was directed toward. Himself, mostly. The Reapers, assuredly. And yes, Shepard, no matter how undeservedly. But now, exhaustion was taking over, making him pleasantly numb.

The door behind Joker swished open and booted feet dragged along the floor. He was conflicted about there being a door to the cockpit now. It was undoubtedly quieter, and more secluded. But after all these years, he'd been used to the sound of footsteps crossing the bridge alerting him to the imminent arrival of other crew members. He even knew some of them by their tread; Shepard, in particular. Now, by the time he heard the hiss of the entry, the intruder was on top of him. Of course, he knew who this particular visitor was going to be; but, in general, it was going to take some acclimation.

Shepard slipped into the copilot chair, eyes straight ahead. She looked as weary as he felt. There was a gash on her left cheek with three or four neat, clear stitches lining it. She settled her arm on the rest, and exposed a similar injury on her elbow. It looked like Chakwas' work. Shepard must have sustained the cuts on Earth, before she'd donned her armor.

As if responding to his thoughts, she asked, "Did the doc make it onboard?"

"Yeah." Joker's voice sounded gravelly, even to his own ears, so he cleared his throat. "She stopped by to nag me already."

The ghost of a smile flitted across Shepard's features and then disappeared just as swiftly.

"How did things go with the Council?" Joker inquired, unnecessarily.

"About like you'd expect."

"You mean that after all these years of ignoring your warnings, they're finally willing to step up and tell you to fuck off?"

"They did come up with some favors that I could do for them, though."

"Why does that not surprise me in the least?" Joker would have been angrier if he hadn't been so damn tired. He imagined that the same could be said for Shepard. "Well, let me know if you want me to get them on the channel and hang up on them. You know, for old time's sake."

Again, the quirk of the lips that came and went so quickly that he could have imagined it. "Thanks."

"How's Ash?"

Shepard's shrug was a barely perceptible rise and fall of the shoulders. "Alive."

"Well, I guess that's something." Almost as an afterthought, Joker asked, "What happened down there, anyway?" The storm on Mars had cut off communication between the Normandy and the ground team at the end of the mission. He knew Ashley had been injured, but not how.

"Cerberus beat us to the archives. They had someone on the inside – or something, I should say. That synthetic we brought back with us. It tried to escape with the plans for the prothean device, and when James brought it down, it went after Ash." Shepard's tone was flat in the retelling, although Joker knew she was concerned for her former teammate.

"Great. So, now we're going to be fighting this war on two fronts…the Reapers and Cerberus?"

"It would appear that way." Shepard looked at him for the first time. "Have you heard anything?"

Joker knew exactly what she was asking. "No."

Her gaze lingered for a moment, and then shifted forward again. "That doesn't necessarily mean anything."

"I know."

They sat in silence for an indeterminate amount of time. Finally, Shepard appeared to gather her resolve and heaved herself out of the chair. "I've got to get some sleep. Are you coming?"

"I'll be up soon."

"Jeff…"

"I promise."

Joker thought Shepard was going to argue further, but she seemed unable to muster the energy. She merely brushed her palm against his cheek. "Okay. See you in a bit."

"Yeah," Joker said, swallowing hard, not looking at her as she left. Part of him wanted more than anything to crawl into bed next to her, to take comfort from her nearness. They hadn't slept in the same bed in over a month, and before all of this had happened, all he'd wanted was to hold her again. And now, he needed that more than ever. But another part of him demanded that he didn't deserve solace, not when he'd abandoned his parents to their fate. He wasn't worthy of her reassurances, assuming that she had any to offer. Granted, Shepard was probably too worn out to do anything other than collapse when her head hit the pillow, but he couldn't take the chance. He'd give her a head start to ensure that she would be sleeping by the time he crept in.

And asleep Shepard was, when Joker finally made his way up to her quarters. She'd removed her boots but still wore her filthy uniform. She was face down on the bed, on top of the sheets, her injured cheek facing up. Even in repose, her brow was furrowed and her fists were clenched. The sight melted his desire for self-flagellation. How could he deny himself consolation if it meant denying her the same? Joker removed his own boots and uniform, and slipped beneath the covers, trying to enfold her in their warmth, as well. Shepard whimpered and stirred, and he quickly surrendered, not wanting to wake her. He took her outstretched hand in his and rested it on his chest, massaging it gently, trying to get the fingers to relax. He closed his eyes, thinking that even as tired as he was, sleep would elude him. He was unconscious within minutes.

A/N: As Type-Oh undoubtedly knows...and maybe some of the rest of you, too...there is no bridge across Puget Sound from downtown to West Seattle, where Alki Beach is. Even if there was, it would be miles long. Going around, on foot, is even less feasible. So I took some literary licenses there. Forgive me.