Stardust

Shepard was tired. More than tired, she was exhausted. Too exhausted to be angry, but she remembered she was supposed to be angry at someone for something. Angry at them for making her so tired.

Get the hell out of here!

It was unnaturally dark. Void. She struggled to open her eyes, before she realized her eyes were already open, and for some reason it didn't matter. Her eyelids felt heavy, her head felt heavy, everything was so heavy…

Help me move him! Damnit, help me move him!

She just wanted to sleep. She was tired. So damn tired of everything. If she could just go to sleep, just end this…

There's still one way to end this. If you've got the guts.

She couldn't sleep yet, and it annoyed her. Set her emotions back where they belonged. Anger. Anger was warm. Familiar. Anger kept her awake when she couldn't sleep alone.

Commander, I heard you screaming and-

And you thought you'd just walk into my room? Get the hell out.

Even when she was alone, she still felt like someone wanted something from her. Someone was bothering her. Calling on her. Calling…

Commander! Shepard!

Joker. Steven. Anderson. Udina. If everyone would just go away, she could sleep. If everyone…

The Council's waiting on us, Commander.

You two go on ahead. I'll be on walkabout. I just need time to… I need time.

How much time had passed? How long had it been dark? How long had she been tired? How long had she been angry? If she could just remember. She felt like she was expecting something… expecting…

You can expect me to kill you the next time we meet.

Why was she so angry? Why couldn't she remember what was behind the anger? Was there anything behind the anger? Why did she feel so hollow? She was angry and tired and… and nothing else.

Commander? Shepard? Shepard!

What is it?

Sorry. You just… I guess you scared me. You've been sitting there for three hours…

Hours. It didn't feel like hours. It felt like a year. Or a few seconds. Fuck, her head was so heavy. She couldn't remember. She could barely remember her name.

What's your name, honey?

Doesn't matter. I just want to forget. You don't have to talk for that, do you?

Talk. She hated talking. She didn't want to talk.

At least talk about it. If not with me, then with someone. I know-

You don't know shit. Sir.

What didn't he know? Why was it so hard to think, to remember anything?

One hit of this and you won't remember a thing.

Give me two, then.

Can't say I expected the great Commander Shepard to be just like the rest of us junkies.

Fuck you.

Just like the rest of them. She was so sick of the rest of them.

Commander? You okay?

I'm fine.

You were staring into space again.

Just a bad day.

It was worse than a bad day. Her head was heavy. She was cold. Her hands were cold.

The medigel was little more than cold gel on her hands. It wasn't working. Of course it wasn't working. She ran her hands through her hair and the gel coated and stuck to her head. It wasn't working. Damnit it wasn't working. He was cold. He was so fucking cold.

She was so cold. Cold. Shepard latched onto the sensation like a vice. It was the first thing that came to her outside of fatigue, anger, and fragmented memories.

What's eating at you, Shepard?

Nothing.

Bull. I don't even know you, and I can tell this isn't you.

Am I the only one on this ship who keeps their personal life personal?

So it's personal? Alright. Fine. Keep it personal. But get your act together. You're better than this.

She wasn't better than anyone. She wasn't great. She wasn't even good.

Do you have any idea how many regulations you've broken?

Too long, didn't read.

Fine, Shepard. Be snide if it helps your façade, but I've read your psych evaluation-

Good for you.

You wake up screaming, your sheets soaked with sweat-

Stop.

You haven't had a decent meal or full night's sleep since Eden Prime. You're angry, you're furious, and that's fine-

I said stop.

But you're taking it out on your crew. Whose competence are you really questioning, Shepard? Theirs or yours?

FUCKING STOP

Stop. Everything stopped. Pain blasted through her, the cold became freezing, coated her lungs with ice and made every breath an agony. But there was no breath. Nothing but pain. Punishment.

We're not trying to punish you, Shepard. Officially, this conversation didn't even happen, but we both know what did. This is the second time you've tied up the tribunal, arguing over whether to court marshal you or give you a medal.

Third.

Glad you're keeping track. We both know you'll get the Medal of Heroism for everything you've done. But this isn't going to happen again, Shepard.

I'm not going to work a desk like-

Like me? No, you're not. But you are going on patrol for geth in the Amada system.

… There hasn't been any sign of geth activity in that sector…

I know.

What did he know? He didn't know anything. There hadn't been any geth.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

She wasn't supposed to be here. Cold. Angry. Alone. She was supposed to be on her ship…

The Normandy. The best of alliance technology and turian engineering. It showed what they were capable of when working together. They'd showed what they were capable of when working together. They. She wasn't alone. Wasn't cold anymore. Wasn't angry anymore.

Shepard smiled; she wanted to sigh in relief, but she couldn't quite gather the air to do so. It didn't particularly bother her. She was safe. The Normandy was safe. They were safe.

"Shepard, I was hoping you'd get here," A warm voice interrupted her. Her smile grew. Nihlus. Some small part of her felt as though he shouldn't be here. Or perhaps she shouldn't be here. She couldn't remember which or why. "We finally have a chance to talk,"

"What about?" She could have cared less. The debriefing room was comfortingly warm, as though someone had lit a fire. Strange.

"Where we're going," Vague. He was always vague. "I've heard it's quite beautiful."

"I wouldn't know." Shepard shrugged, unsure how she was talking. She had no air to form the words, but Nihlus didn't seem to notice.

He smiled and held his hand out to her, talons, teeth, and claws. They looked like sharp metal, shrapnel, fragments of a burning ship. She shook the illusion away. She was still safe. It didn't matter. Nihlus was here. She was here. The Normandy was here. She reached for his hand, and looked into his eyes for reassurance.

Everything fell apart. The eyes were blue. That was wrong. Nihlus's eyes were green.

"Change of plans, Shepard," Nihlus voice echoed sadly in her ears, and a blinding light burned his image away forever.

"Shepard, don't try to move," Her senses overloaded. Sounds came at her as though she were underwater, images swarmed before her eyes, the air she hadn't needed to breath suddenly and violently forced its way into her lungs. Everything was far too… far too alive. "Just lie still,"

Shepard panicked. Her hand flailed wildly in the blinding light. Looking for something that wasn't so bright, so burning, so painfully alive. Nihlus. If she could just take his hand, she could go with him.

"Try to stay calm," In her fervor, she couldn't breathe, and felt better for it. The voices panicked, grew more agitated, and then all at once grew quiet. The lights dimmed to the pleasant twilight of the Normandy, and the darkness welcomed her return.

The eyes loomed over her again… the wrong eyes. They were blue.

Nihlus was dead, and no matter how much she wanted to, they wouldn't let her die with him.

~*~Fin~*~