Hello again. Unfortunately, I may be going on a semi-hiatus with this story for a bit. I've got a couple chapters after this one written already, but I'm not 100% happy with how they've come out, and I haven't had the best of luck with inspiration for a few weeks now. I'm not giving it up all together, just taking a break for a while. I know exactly where I want to go with it, which is the most frustrating part, because it's only that the words & ideas aren't coming out like I want them to. Not to mention, it's hard to stay inspired and confident when reviews are so sparse. :/ A big, huge thank you to Jules Hawke and Vorcha Girl for being such dedicated reviewers. Much love to you guys, you've been a huge source of motivation and I can't tell you how much I appreciate all your kind words! Also, thank you again to everyone who has favorited/followed so far. I'm not abandoning you, I promise. I'll be back soon. Until then, I hope you all have a lovely day!
Chapter 35 - Missing Pieces
Jack sauntered quietly into the hospital room where, much to her dismay, Zoe was fast asleep in the middle of the day. When she neared the edge of the bed, she leaned down until her face was just inches from the sleeping woman's, and blew a hard puff of air up her nose.
"Wake up Sleeping Beauty!" she called loudly, bringing Shepard springing up out of her dreams, "Damn, sweets, you look like hell."
"And you look like hell on wheels, as usual," Zoe grumbled through a groggy haze, "It's good to finally see you again. I'm glad you made it out of everything okay."
"Almost had to beat the cheerleader's face in to get up here, but besides that I'm just peachy," Jack plopped down on the edge of the bed, looking her friend up and down with a skeptical gaze, "From what I hear, can't say the same about you."
"If my legs would just get their shit together, I'd've been out of here in a heartbeat," Shepard willed her two paralyzed appendages to move, but could only manage a slight bend in her right knee, "Fucking useless…"
"Look, let's cut through the crap, okay. I didn't come here to talk about your legs. I came here to talk about your ship… or, more specifically the newly appointed commander of your ship," the tattooed woman crossed her arms, raising a wary eyebrow at her friend, "Vega knows you're alive now. He wants to see you, but Garrus told him, and me, the things you've been ranting about. I'm here to smack some sense into that dense gourd of yours."
"Jack, don't even start with me," she rolled her eyes, leaning heavily back into the pillows, "I've been through this five hundred times with every other member of the crew. I can't just start having feelings and sympathy for someone because everyone around me is telling me I should."
"Then let him come see you; get a glimpse of him yourself," Jack stuck a single, slender finger into Zoe's chest, "Trust me, you take one look at him, all those memories are gonna come flooding back. He's not the kind of guy a girl would forget so easily, and I've forgotten a lot of men in my time, believe me."
"Believe me, it's not going to be that simple," Zoe reached to the bedside table to open the drawer, removing a framed picture and handing it over to the other woman, "Garrus brought me this, so I have seen him, okay? I don't remember this night, Jack. Not fully. All I can recall is music, drinking, dancing with you at one point… and then feeling guilty about it afterwards. And I fought with him the next day about it, but I don't remember why. I just remember we were yelling at each other and I was trying to make him leave. If we loved each other so much, why is it I can only pick up the times that we were at each other's throats?"
"That's half of what love is, Z! Shit, I've never actually been in love, and I know that. You get on each other's nerves, you fight, and then you have amazing make-up sex!" Jack threw her a wide grin, "You can't even remember if you had make-up sex, can you?"
"I don't even remember a single kiss, dammit! Who knows if we even did that?"
"He does! Talk to him, Shepard! And don't bring up the ship thing, for the love of god! He thought you were gone, and he was trying to pick up the pieces of himself that you left behind," she stood abruptly, leaning down into Zoe's space, her eyes narrowed in aggravation, "You do remember that I'm the only person you've ever told about what happened on Akuze? You know what it's like to feel what he felt in those day after, when everyone thought you were dead and gone. When he found out you were alive, after weeks of thinking otherwise, he thought he might have another chance until he found out what's going on with you. Don't be a bitch just because you're not getting your way right now. That's not like you, Z. Buck up, suck it up, and talk to the poor guy before you break his heart… again."
"Dammit, Jack—"
"Shut up, you know I'm right, Lola," the fiery girl righted herself, crossing her arms in front of her and casting Zoe a hellacious glare.
"Lola… where have I heard that?" Jack started to answer her, but Shepard held her hand up to cut her off, "He used to call me that… And Akuze… Jack, I don't think you're the only person that I told about that. I think he knows too. Why would I have told him about it?"
"Because you care about him, you idiot!" Jack threw her arms out in distress, "Geez, it's like talking to a fucking brick wall."
"Lola… Lola… Loca… that was you. That's what he called you that night," she traced the picture in her hands with her finger tips, a piece of the puzzle sliding unexpectedly into place.
"Well, that's a step in the right direction. Seeing anything else, oh great mystic of time and space?" her punkish friend teased, throwing a light jab to her shoulder.
Something was pulling hard at the back Zoe's mind: climbing stairs; swimming head; clothes falling to the floor; bodies entwined in a heated embrace.
"No… I don't…" she sucked in a sharp breath, her head throbbing with the acute pain that had become so commonplace recently.
"Fuckin' A, I thought we had something for a minute," Jack pivoted her head, her neck cracking in about a hundred different places with the motion, "Oh, well. At least tell me I convinced you to talk to him. That's what they brought me here for, so I don't get paid unless I do my job."
Shepard's head shot up, her eyes ablaze with fury, "They're paying you to convince me to talk to him?!"
"Chill, Shep, I'm just messing with you!" Jack snorted a laugh, "Damn, whatever meds they got you on, they need to up the dosage. You're tweaking the fuck out right now, man."
"Sorry, I've just been really on edge since I woke up… this whole thing, it's worse than anything else I've ever dealt with. I can handle combat with a hundred angry krogan, or a thousand geth armed to the teeth, but fighting my own mind," Zoe rubbed her temples hard with her fingertips, trying to dull the ache spreading across her forehead, "It's a battle I'm not convinced I'm going to win."
"Hey, look," Jack lowered her tone to as close as she could come to comforting, "I know you're going through some rough shit right now. But so is he. Knowing the girl he loves is trapped in a hospital raving about how she wants to beat his ass for doing what he thought was the right thing, what she wanted. It's killing him, Z. You know I'm not a sympathetic person, but I can read it all over his face. He needs to see you with his own two eyes. He needs to be here for you, because that's what he's gotten used to since the two of you met."
"Did he tell you that?"
"Not in so many words, but you know I'm pretty damn good at reading people," Jack picked one of Zoe's old, timeworn books off the table beside her, tossing it into her friend's lap, "Right now, he's more tattered and torn — and easier to interpret — than this raggedy piece of shit right here."
"Okay, okay. Fine, I get your point," Shepard threw her hands up in defeat, "Let him know I'll talk to him. And I won't bring up the ship thing, I swear."
"That's my good girl," Jack ruffled her messy, purple locks, "Damn, you need to get your roots done princess."
"Yeah, they don't exactly provide that kind of service here," Zoe smirked halfheartedly.
"Looks like you're gonna have yourself one nasty lookin' scar, too," the tattooed girl lifted her friends chin, examining the deep, ruddy blemish that cut deep across Zoe's left cheek.
"I haven't seen it yet. Miranda thinks it's better if I don't look at it while my mind is still recovering," Shepard brought her hand up to the marred patch of skin, playing at it delicately with her fingertips.
"That's bullshit. You're seriously telling me she hasn't let you look in a mirror since you got here?" Jack's eyes were almost popping out of their sockets.
"No… she said I've already been under enough stress," Shepard affected Miranda's thick accent as she went on, "That 'it would be too shocking'."
"And she didn't consider the possibility that seeing your own reflection might be pivotal to the success of your recovery?" she was seething now, and Zoe was getting a little nervous as to what was spinning through the unpredictable woman's head.
"I… guess not…"
"Dumb, cunt-faced, hack. Thinks she's so fucking smart," Jack stormed off in the direction of the lavatory that was located in the corner of the small room, "Think it would be goddamn obvious, but nooo…"
It was a place Zoe had only been a few times since she'd woken up — just to shower and such, with assistance, since her legs continued to fail her. She already knew what Jack was searching for and that she wouldn't find it in there. Miranda had made sure to do away with the looking glass before Shepard ever stepped foot in the room.
"What the hell? Where is it? Miranda!" the vehement woman came barreling out of the enclosure, and towards the door to the hallway, poking her head out and screaming down the corridor at the top of her lungs, "Shepard is not some kind of delicate fucking daisy flower! Get me a goddamn mirror, or I'm gonna blow this place into next week!"
She shot out of the door, her boot steps ringing hard, echoing thuds through the hall. Zoe could hear faint sounds of commotion coming from the reception desk, and the sound of Jack yelling profanities at the nurses before a loud crash reverberated in the distance. A few seconds later, Jack returned to the room, hefting a large, rectangular mirror that looked as if she'd pried it right off the wall.
"Here," she thrust the thing up so Zoe could finally get a glimpse of her own face.
It was far worse than she could have predicted. Aside from the wounds marking her tawny skin, her eyes were swollen and bloodshot, her hair a mess of tangles and knots, flying wildly around her head like a lion's mane. On the more serious note of her scars — her friends hadn't even let on that anything was wrong with her. But lo and behold, the disfigurement that marked her once smooth, flawless jaw had healed into a ragged and concave crater, as if an entire chunk of flesh had been gouged from the spot.
On the other side, her face was peppered with yellowish bruises, on their way to healing, but grisly in appearance, nonetheless. Another incision ran the length of her collar bone, protruding from the top of her hospital gown, up and around her neck. From the depth of it, it looked as if she'd nearly gotten her head lobbed clean off. What had happened in those last moments? Some kind of explosion, she was pretty sure, but the details were hazy, and unlike the rest of her shattered memories, that was one she wasn't trying hard to recall.
"Put it down, Jack," Zoe dropped her gaze to her trembling hands.
"It's not that bad, Shep. At least you lived through it," Jack propped the heavy mirror against the base of the night stand, "This makes, what, twice that you've cheated death?"
"Technically, more than that… but why me? Especially now, what do I have left? My legs don't fucking work; they took my ship; replaced me as commander; even my memories are in ruins. I've got nothing left," Shepard covered her face with her hands to hide the tears that brimmed in her eyes.
"Yes, you do! You've got your friends, every single one of us! And one of the hottest guys on the planet out there waiting on you to let him in! Snap out of this fucking crazy rut you're digging yourself into and be the woman I know is in there, for christ's sake!" she took hold of Zoe's shoulders, shaking her forcefully, "You're not an idiot, you're not a quitter! Goddammit, Shepard, pull yourself together!"
"Okay, okay! Just, stop!" she pushed the leather-clad arms away furiously, "Tell him to come. I just want to get this over with."
"Fine… But don't be too hard on him, Z," Jack let out a tired sigh, pulling a hair tie from her jacket pocket and slinging it into her friend's lap, "Here, it's not much but at least it'll tame the beast for now.
"Thanks," Zoe scooped up the band and whipped her hair up into a messy bun, sliding her hand roughly down her face and plopping back onto the mattress, "Fuck me. Why is this happening?"
"Look, it's all gonna work itself out, okay? You just have to hold on to hope," the younger girl assured her, before crossing out of the room and disappearing into the hallway.
A few minutes later, Jack entered the waiting room, where James and Garrus were sitting on pins and needles. She tromped up to the commander and crossed her arms, leering down at him, somehow looking even more threatening that usual.
"She says you can go in, but she's not in a good place right now. Be easy on her. Don't you dare push her too hard, or you'll find my foot lodged so far up your ass you'll be able to taste my boot. Got it?" she sneered at him, her words laced with poisonous venom.
"Yeah, I got it, Loca," Vega stood, sidestepping her, and taking a few nervous steps towards the hallway, "It's really that bad, huh?"
"She's losing it all, and it's tearing her up like nothing before. But there's something there she won't hint at. I saw it when she looked at that picture we took at the party," Jack dropped down into the seat beside Garrus, splaying her legs out in an unladylike fashion, "That shit was fucking exhausting. Good luck in there, Jimmy Jam. You're gonna need it."
With that, James gathered what little courage he could manage and started down the hall to her room. When he crossed into the doorway, she was laying back in the bed with both arms crossed and resting heavily on her face. Shepard didn't make a move to welcome him — he wasn't even sure she'd heard him enter, so his first steps into the space were cautious and calculated. He paused when her arms slid down to rest on her thighs, thinking she may have fallen asleep, but a second later, she raised her head and blinked her eyes rapidly.
"Zoe…?"
He took a few more slow steps towards her, his heart leaping into his throat at the sight of her. Her face was devoid of emotion — pale, blank, and cold — and she refused to look at him.
"You're James?"
"Garrus said you remembered me, at least a little. Now that I'm here, you're gonna act like none of what you said to him was true?" his jaw clenched tightly, and he felt an unwelcome stinging at the corners of his eyes.
"I remember he told me you're the asshole that's taking my ship from me," already she was breaking her promise to Jack to avoid the issue, but she couldn't help herself.
Vega hesitantly closed the remaining gap between himself and the bed's edge, "It's not like that. Just let me explain."
"Don't bother, everyone else has done plenty of that for you," Shepard spat the words, like embers shooting from the mouth of a volcano, "I've seen the some of the vid records from the ship. And they brought me pictures of us. They've done everything short of writing me a romance novel about our history together. We're supposed to have some kind of epic bond. Some kind of fairy tale love, or something. So, why can't I remember any of it? Why can I only remember us fighting and getting in each other's faces? From what my memories are telling me, we pretty much hated each other. But like some kind of sick, twisted joke, everyone's trying to convince me I'm in love with you. Even Jack said I was going to break your heart if I talked to you like this. But I know myself, I remember who I am. I know I'm not the kind of person that would let myself be distracted with an office romance while the world is falling to pieces around me. Especially not with a subordinate."
"We didn't start out that way. You weren't even an officer when we first met," Vega reminded her, trying his best not to let her words cut too deep.
"Yeah, I remember that much. I know I punched you in the face at least once for putting your hands on me. I tore off your finger, didn't I?"
James could swear he saw a flash of doubt cross her face, and he took the opportunity to correct her mistake, holding his hands up for her to see that all his digits were completely intact.
"No… that was the guard before me. I mean, yeah, you punched me, but I didn't touch anything but your shoulder and my fingers are all still here. And once they promoted your whole crew to Spectre status, none of that mattered to you — to us — anymore," an idea occurred to him, and he thought it couldn't hurt to try, "Look, Shepard, I know you're sick of this place… You want your ship, your guns, your crew…"
"What the hell do you care?" her words were still sharp, but he could see something in Shepard's eyes that said she'd had the blip of a memory shoot to the surface, "That's not just my ship out there, it's my home; the only one I've ever known. If you cared about me like everyone says you do, why the hell would you take it from me?"
"I didn't have a choice! It was either me or someone you don't know; some stranger who could never understand what that ship means to you," Vega didn't want to fight with her, but he would stay here all night if he had to, just to make her comprehend, "If I hadn't taken the offer, they would have docked her, filled her with a bunch of strangers, then who the hell knows what would have happened to her?"
"You are a stranger! Granted, I'm glad my crew is staying with her, but I don't know you, not as well as all that. Why couldn't you have just waited one more day to take the offer? Then they would have known I was alive and we wouldn't be in this mess," Zoe was rambling now, running out of things to argue about.
"You do know me, Shepard, you just don't realize it yet. I waited a week, did everything I could to make sure they were doing their best to find you. I would have gone out there myself, but they wouldn't let me! Do you know how many nights I stayed awake, keeping an eye on the news, the data pads, the terminals, for any sign that they were wrong? I almost gave up on the Alliance, altogether. I came this close to turning down the offer and just quitting, going home, leaving everything behind to go drown myself in booze like I did after Fehl Prime," James was quickly losing his patience with the situation, and with her stubbornness.
"Oh, good for you, holding out for an entire week to make sure I wasn't dead…" Shepard rolled her eyes, "You must have been truly devastated."
"You know what, maybe you don't know me — because, yeah, I fuckin' was. But I held myself together and pushed it down, like you always did. So I could make the hard decisions. After everything that happened, the galaxy is a wreck. Someone's gotta go out there and help rebuild. They needed us, Shepard. I didn't have any time left to mull it over. Hackett had me convinced that it was a necessary decision. And everyone else had me convinced it's what you would have wanted, including you. I guess you don't remember what you told me before the final push?" she stayed stoically silent, so he continued, "You told me humanity couldn't afford to lose both of us. That the Normandy would need a leader. You didn't use the exact words, but it definitely gave the impression that this is what you wanted."
"No way. I wouldn't have turned my ship over to just anyone. If I'd said that to anyone — if they'd given that offer to anyone — it would have been Ashley," her tone was sure, but her countenance showed signs of misgiving in her own words.
"They did offer it to Ash, but she turned it down and gave them my name instead."
"I don't believe it. I don't know how you pulled it off, but something about this isn't right," Shepard shook her head defiantly, "Now, please, just leave."
He pulled in a deep breath through his nose and ran a hand down his face, "Fine, this was a bad idea…"
James turned to go, his resolve to reach out to her all but obliterated by her refusal to accept what was right in front of her. He was almost out the door when she called to his back.
"Wait… I have something of yours that you might want," she reached to the bedside table and retrieved the dog tags that bared his name, holding them out in his direction.
He crossed back towards her, his eyes fixated on the necklace hanging from her slender fingers, repeating the words he'd said to her before they'd returned to Earth, "So, that's where those disappeared to."
"I'm not sure where I got them, but Miranda said I was wearing them when they found me," Zoe lowered the chain delicately into his outstretched palm, the backs of her fingers grazing his skin as she let it drop.
"I left them hanging on your lamp the night we…" he stopped himself short, afraid of how she may react if he finished the thought.
"We what?" she searched his face for the answer, watching his eyes shift nervously around the room, and his silence told her everything his lips wouldn't say, "You mean we…"
"Yeah," James expelled the word with the breath he'd been tentatively holding, "That night, and again the next day, before it all ended."
"I don't understand this. Why did it have to be those pieces that went missing? I remember all the fighting, the disagreements between us. I remember the combat, the friends I lost and how they died… I even got back most of what happened with Melloria. But the good memories… why does it have to be the good ones that are staying hidden?" Shepard shoved her hands into her mussed locks, pulling hard at the roots, her face constricted in distress.
"Look, I know the last person you want to see right now is me. I know you're confused and scared and you kind of hate me for what I did. But trust me, at the time I made the decision for you. Just think of me as a place holder until you recover, and when the time comes, and you're back on your feet, the Normandy is all yours. I promise you. I just wanted to keep her safe for you, that's it," Vega's eyes were pleading with her to understand, "Let me see your hand."
James had noticed the silver band encircling her finger when she'd handed over his dog tags, and it occurred to him that she may not have even paid it any attention thus far. Shepard finally brought her gaze straight to his, and her breath caught in her throat at the dejected expression that dimmed his mocha eyes. She lifted her right hand up slowly, her knuckles still scabbed and rough, but he took it without hesitation and ran his thumb gently over the shining band on her ring finger. He brought his opposite hand up and slipped the jewelry off as carefully as he could manage, turning her hand over and placing the ring in her palm, closing her fingers over it.
With that, the new commander turned and took off towards the exit, "Just look at the inscription…"
Zoe opened her palm and inspected the trinket for a moment, before tossing it down on the nightstand, dropping back into the bed and closing her eyes. She didn't want to think right now — about him, about the Normandy, about any of it. She was seething inside with a mix of anger, confusion, and unconquerable frustration. If she could just get her legs to move, the amnesia wouldn't matter; she could get out of here, and if they wouldn't give her her ship back, she'd find a new one, and a new crew. Maybe run with the idea that Jack had given her so long ago to become a pirate. What did it matter anymore? She was a shadow — an incomplete silhouette of the woman she'd once been. It was too much this time. 'Commander Shepard' wasn't coming back from this.
Even if Miranda could fix her brain, if everything came flooding back, the scars would still be there — the scars on her body and the scars on her soul. She'd have to live with the regret of true defeat. Though Shepard was glad for it, in the long run it didn't matter to her that they'd won the war, because the things she had lost in the process were personally earth shattering. She had fought so hard, for so many years, just to have it all stripped away in the blink of an eye. Zoe told herself she didn't deserve this, that she'd only been doing what was best for the galaxy, but she honestly wasn't sure if she believed it anymore. How was she to tell what memories may be missing that could be evidence to the contrary?
She tilted her head to the side, staring down the ring with animosity, but a moment later, she plucked it from the table again, squeezing her fingers around it tightly. The trinket was so light, it was like she wasn't even holding it. The finger James had removed it from was marked by a deep indention, and felt naked without the pressure she had barely even noticed before. Zoe opened her hand carefully, lifting one digit at a time, and stared down at the glinting metallic circle, catching a glimpse of the inner band. She noticed the small inscription intricately carved inside, and picked the ring up with her opposite hand, holding it close, squinting to read the single word etched in exquisite cursive.
Promesa…
A surge of blinding pain shot through Shepard's temples, as a scene lost with time came rushing back to her, like a dam shattered by a deluge of torrential rain. The party, the laughter, the dancing, the bedroom… waking up in his arms the next morning… a piece here, a piece there, crashing back into place one after the other — a series of violent melee attacks straight to her cranium. Unwittingly, she let out a savage, roaring yell, the pain in her head reaching unbearable limits. Thankfully, James had stopped outside the door to collect his thoughts before returning to his friends.
He rushed back to her side, trepidation quickening his steps, "Shepard! Zoe! What's wrong?"
"It hurts," she was clinging to the sides of her head, rocking back and forth, with tears streaming from her eyes, "It hurts so fucking bad!"
He jabbed a finger on the call button to alert the nurses, then turned back to her, reaching out to rub easy circles along her back, "Can I do anything?"
"My neck, the back of my head, that's where it hurts the worst," her face was twisted with agony, but as Vega moved his hand up to massage the curve where her spine met the base of her neck, the pain began to ease and her features started to soften, "That's the worst one so far… thank you."
"Has it been happening a lot?" the feel of her hair twining between his fingers was wrenching at his emotions, but he took great pains to conceal the effect it was having on him.
"Every time I remember a lot of things all at once," she side-eyed him, with a pitiful expression painted across her face, "Can you go a little higher?"
He slid his fingers up her tender skull as requested, "Sure… where the hell are the nurses? There were like five of them out there a minute ago."
"Probably outside smoking," she scooted over as best she could to allow him a place to sit, patting the spot she had made so he would take the hint, "I think they're all kind of scared of me at this point, anyway. Might have just thought I was having another… episode."
"You? Scary? No way," he sat down, somewhat reluctantly, uneasy with being this close to her when she was still so unsure of him, "So… what did you remember? I mean, if you want to talk about it."
"The party… the whole thing, and… the morning after. I already had snippets of it, but… Miranda told me that seeing certain things from the past might trigger recall. She's been working on redeveloping the technology she used to rebuild me before, focusing on rewiring my brain first. I've been having treatments twice a day for the past two weeks. And since I'm actually awake this time around there are some… side effects," Zoe ran her hands down the blanket that covered her lower half, "You would think it would have been easier to fix my legs first, but she says my memories are her more immediate priority. I just want to be able to walk out of here and get back to work."
Miranda chose that moment to come bounding into the room, "Shepard, are you alright? The nurses said you hit the call button, but they were all busy with an emergency down the hall, so they called for me."
"I'm fine now. Just another headache," Shepard assured the other woman.
"Hey Miranda," Vega gave her a friendly nod.
"James, good to see you again," the brunette eyed the scene with skepticism, "Are you sure you're alright, Shepard? Did you remember something else?"
"Yes, I'm sure. And yes, I did," Zoe stated flatly.
"Should we go over it now, or would you like me to come back later?" Miranda asked, taking a step into the room.
Shepard shot her a look that clearly said 'go away', "Later, Miri."
"Alright, I'll come back at supper time. The nurses should be back soon, so if you have anymore problems, they'll be able to answer when you call now. I'll be in the labs for the next few hours, working on the bone and muscle regeneration project. Hopefully, we'll be able to start on your legs in the next few days, if all goes as planned," she turned to leave, but added over her shoulder, "Get some rest, Shepard."
When she'd disappeared around the corner, Zoe let out a grumbling sigh, "If I have to hear 'get some rest, Shepard' one more time, I'm going to explode. All I do is sleep. I've never slept this much in my life."
"Except when you were under house arrest, maybe," he reminded her, and to his surprise, a slight smirk crept to her lips.
"Yeah, true. Most of that time has come back, actually. It's just that sometimes, the memories get a little mixed up. Like, thinking it was your finger I took off. It's really unlike anything else — knowing where you've been and what you've done, but not being able to connect the dots to how you got there. Then, at times, your brain decides to have a sense of humor and thinks it's funny to fuck with the little details like that," Shepard lifted her right knee slightly, still the only movement she could pull from it, her mind drifting listlessly from one downfall to the next, "It's strange how I can't really feel much, but they still seem to ache. Phantom pains, I guess? Or is that only an amputee thing?"
"No clue. Do they do any physical therapy with you?" James had since stopped massaging her head and had moved to rubbing circles across her back, but she made no move or word to stop him.
"Miranda says there's no point, since she's almost finished with the tech to fix them," she rolled her head, releasing the last bits of tension in her neck, "With all the people injured in the attack, the nurses are always on call for something more serious. I think they're under the impression that I'm strong enough to deal with it."
"Well, they're not wrong. But still, a little exercise couldn't hurt. Keep your muscles from atrophying anyway," he slid down the bed a bit, and made a motion with his head to indicate he wanted to help, "You mind?"
"Go ahead. They're not pretty right now, but everyone that works here and their cousin, has seen them, so what's one more person?" she shrugged, and threw the blanket off, revealing her bruised and battered legs.
"Shit, Zoe…" the sight of them, almost entirely colored by a sickly greenish-purple tinge and marred with half-healed lacerations, sent a stabbing pain through the new commander.
"I know, it's gross. Sorry…" Shepard started to pull the sheet back up, but he stopped her.
"No, it's not that. I just… I'm glad you made it out after everything," his voice cracked when he spoke and reached for her left leg, running his hands along her calf, massaging the stiff muscles under her tattered flesh.
"James… I'm sorry," Zoe dropped her gaze to her hands, twining her fingers together as he'd seen her do so many times before when she was nervous.
"It's okay. I understand why you were upset. No hard feelings. If I was in your shoes, I would have reacted the same way," James assured her, as he pushed her leg up, gently forcing her knee to bend, bicycling it back and forth with great care.
"That's not what I meant. I mean, I'm sorry about that too, but mostly… I'm sorry I can't remember…" her eyes glistened with moisture and it was killing Vega to see her like this, more vulnerable that she'd ever been in her life.
"It's not your fault, Zoe. At least it's starting to come back," he circled her foot around on her ankle, gazing at her with a longing that tugged deep in her chest, "And even if it doesn't completely, I'm with you. I'm gonna be right here if you ever need me. What are some of the other things you don't remember yet?"
Shepard could tell he wanted to turn the subject away from their relationship for now, so she relented, "A lot about what happened before the party, with Mel and Brooks, is still hazy. I don't remember her death, or much of what led up to it, I just remember seeing her face after Garrus put her down. And right before everything went black after I took out the Catalyst… all I can remember is running into a beam of light… I know Anderson was there, and then I saw this kid, the hologram of a little boy… but everything in between and after that is fuzzy."
"They told you what happened afterwards, didn't they?" he stood and circled the bed, sitting down on the other side to repeat the process with her right leg.
"The mass relays, all the AI… EDI?… Yeah, Miranda told me. Joker must hate me for what I did," she sucked in a deep breath through her teeth when he bent her knee this time, "That one still has some real feeling in it."
"Sorry," he eased back a bit, "Joker doesn't hate you. He was torn up for a long time, but he's getting back on his feet."
"He's the only one of the crew that hasn't come to see me… I don't want to think about it right now," Shepard shook the thoughts from her head, "So, how do you know to do all this stuff?"
James let out a half-hearted chuckle, "Well, when I was seventeen, my abuela got really sick, and my family didn't have the money to keep her in the hospital. They had to send her home with us; set up a hospital bed right in the middle of the living room, and hospice came by a few times a week. But those pendejos didn't know shit, they let her just lay there and die. So, I taught myself a few things to make her last days easier. Didn't expect it would come in handy in the future, though."
"That's really sweet…" she peered up at him, an adoring smile rising to her lips, "I guess you're not so bad, after all. Besides being a ship thief, that is."
"Hey, I'm doing you a favor, Lola. No need to get snarky," he finished his task and pulled the blanket back over her, tucking it in gently.
"I'm just messing with you. I have a good feeling you'll take care of her for me. But you better believe when I get out of here, I'm gonna get her back, if I have to pry her from your cold, dead hands," she feigned an evil glare, but a smirk tugged at the corner of her lips, her eyes gleaming mischievously.
Vega crossed his arms defiantly in front of his chest, throwing her a smug look, "I'd like to see you try."
"Funny. I could take you with one arm tied behind my back," Zoe laughed, despite herself, "Or, both legs paralyzed, as it were."
"I don't doubt it," her true smile and that musical laugh, brought his heart some small semblance of peace, and with them, James felt a bit of his own unease begin to settle, "I think I'm gonna get out of here before you start swinging. You should get—"
Shepard cut him off, "Don't you dare say it."
"Some rest," he taunted, tossing a cocky grin her way.
"Get the hell out of here, Vega," she waved him away, but called to him as he started to pass through the door, "Hey… maybe you can come back again soon, if you're not busy, you know, wrecking my ship or something. I promise I'll be more civil next time."
"I'd like that," he gave a warm chuckle, "I'll try not to bang her up too bad, in the mean time. Later, Lola."
"Bye, James…"
A moment later, he disappeared into the hall and Zoe felt an overwhelming urge to stop him, beg him to stay with her for at least a little while longer, but she resisted. She could have sworn she felt a tingling sensation pulse through her dead left leg, where his fingers had worked at the mangled flesh there. Shepard knew, deep down, there was something between them. If she could only unearth those lost moments, cement them back where they belonged… Her next treatment wasn't for another hour. Maybe this time, she hoped, something significant about their time together would surface, and their next meeting would be a little more fruitful.