Hackett has stopped by to visit.

The Admiral seems to have de-aged since I last saw him, and the grin on his face is almost boyish. "Shepard," he growls in greeting, "God damn, kid, you have nine lives, don't you?"

"I think I have five left, sir." I try for a joke, but the tone eludes me, coming out flat and awkward. "It's good to see you."

"You too, Commander," Hackett replies amiably. He sits in the chair beside my bed and sighs. "Damn, it's good to take a load off. It's been non-stop for months."

"I can relate, sir."

"I know that, Shepard. You've been pushed further and harder than anyone else, and don't think I don't know or appreciate the measure of your commitment." Hackett smiles in a grandfatherly fashion. "I know I and others put the weight of the galaxy on your shoulders, kid. Turns out you had the shoulders to hold it up."

I shake my head. I'm not in the frame of mind for praise. Forced to dream by being sedated, every time I wake up I expect Liara to be beside me, and every time she's not there, my soul withers a little more. "I don't want to hear about this all being down to me, sir. Due respect, but that's bullshit, and you know it."

"I wouldn't insult your intelligence or integrity, Commander. Lots of people contributed. This victory, like any victory, is due to the uncommon bravery of countless men and women who put others before themselves. Due to a thousand silent sacrifices, alone in the dark where no one will ever know what was done or how. Decisions, actions, acts of unthinking bravery or suicidal defiance, all adding up to that one critical moment."

I nod fiercely. I know Hackett gets it. "I remember on Rannoch, we found this one guy from Admiral Koris's ship. His name was Dorn'Hazt, a ship's mechanic who drew pursuit away from other quarian civilians. He knew it was a suicide proposition, he had no training, no chance of getting away, but he did it anyway, gave his life to protect his shipmates. People I then sacrificed to save the Admiral." The last admission is like ashes in my mouth.

"That kind of call has been too frequent, these past few months, starting with the Batarians in the Bahak system. Too many people have been forced to do things that have broken them," Hackett observes kindly. "But the kind of courage displayed by people like Dorn'Hazt is the reason we're having this conversation."

I think of the others I know have sacrificed their lives, my friends and comrades; Mordin, Kal'Reegar, Victus, Thane, Legion, EDI. Kaidan. Anderson. "They're the real heroes, sir. Not me."

"Don't sell yourself too short, Shepard," Hackett rebukes me gently. "Your physical courage may be conditioned, but it took a lot of guts to step up and lead. I dumped on you from a great height, and you and your crew delivered. It's not an exaggeration to say we couldn't have done it without you. And your mother told me about the choice you had to make up there. I know she feels you would have benefitted from orders." He regards me soberly for a long moment. "I think I know you well enough to know that you'd have made your own choice regardless of anything I ordered you to do. But it might help you to know two things. If I'd known, I would still have left the call to you, because I know you'd do the right thing. And in your position, I'd have made the same call as you. You did good, Commander."

I nod reluctantly. "From you, that means a lot, sir, thank you. But please, if you can avoid it, I don't want to be "the hero". I fucked up nearly as often as I got it right. I don't deserve to be picked out over and above others who have given as much or more. This wasn't a mission, it was a war. You say it couldn't have been done without me, and I'll own that I made a contribution, but I think it's important that you know that we also specifically couldn't have done it without... without Liara. Without her research skills, the Crucible plans would have stayed buried. Without the Broker network, you would never have got the resources. And without her support, I'd never have got to the controls of the catalyst. I went where she pointed, with my team to back me, and we got this done. Not me. Us, together. I'm not some kind of damn superhero."

"Dr. T'Soni's the Shadow Broker?" Hacket arches his eyebrows. "That explains a great deal. You're right, Shepard, and it'll be noted. She'll get the recognition she deserves, I'll make sure of it. As for your status, I might not be able to do much about that. A lot of people will, rightly, feel that they owe you their lives, and they'll want to thank you. But I'll try and shield you from it as long as I can." His omni-tool blinks at him, and he heaves a sigh. "I guess that's my downtime over." He taps the receive interface. "Hackett, go."

"Sorry to bother you, Admiral, but you're needed – Primarch Victus says it's urgent."

"When is it not?" Hackett grumbles. "All right, Friedrich, I'm on my way." He levers himself to his feet. "Take it easy, Shepard. I'll be back to see you soon."

"No rush, sir," I sigh, "I get the impression Miranda's not going to let me out of her sight any time in the near future."

Hackett chuckles. "If I were you I'd play invalid as long as I could, Shepard. Kick back and catch up some of your rack time."

"I will, sir. Oh, and please, tell Major Friedrich I said he's still a jackass."

Hackett barks with laughter. "I will, Shepard. I will." Setting his cap just so on his head, he tips me a nod and steps from the room. Miranda re-enters with a smile for me.

"Hackett seems pleased to have you back," she remarks.

"Gives him a scapegoat," I mutter uncharitably. "Someone else to pin the damn medals on."

Miranda chuckles. "If they give you any more medals, Shep, you'll end up walking lopsided."

"Hah." She helps me shift to a more comfortable sitting position. "Thanks. Any word today?"

"Not so far, no. I'm sorry." It's a daily ritual for us now. I ask about the Normandy, she tells me she's heard nothing. "There are a couple more people queuing up to see you, if you're feeling up to it."

"I suppose it depends who it is," I reply morosely. "I'm really not in the mood for strangers."

"No strangers, just some of the stir-crazy mix of outcasts, renegades and troubleshooting space divas that comprise your crewmates," Miranda chuckles. "Present company very definitely included."

The memory of a happier time lifts me a little, and I share her grin. "That was a good night. Jesus, were you ever drunk."

"I'd forgotten just how bloody bombproof I made your metabolism," Miranda shudders at the recollection. "I've still got no idea how we got back to your apartment."

"Liara came and got us," I admit. "She floated you down the Silversun Strip in a biotic field, and you laughed hysterically the whole way. Quite the spectacle you were, especially in that dress."

Miranda slaps my shoulder in rebuke. "You arse," she laughs fondly. "I'll get the others. It'll do you good."

ooooo

It's good to see Jack and Samara; good to see friends who have come through the fire, but somehow, their presence only serves to reinforce the Normandy's absence. I am incredibly proud of Jack, and deeply fond of Samara, but try as they might, their company is not enough to halt the downward spiral of my mood from my conversation with Hackett. Eventually, both of them take the hint and leave me alone to brood. Mom calls down from the Orizaba shortly afterward, but I don't pick up; she knows me too well, is too attuned to my moods, and I'll end up saying more than I can bear to.

Miranda's assistant, Price, comes in to check my readings and change the dressings on a couple of my surgical incisions. Warned by the sulky glower I can feel pulling my mouth down, he doesn't offer any platitudes or chirpy chatter as he normally does, working with quick efficiency and leaving me to my sullen discontent. I look out of the window, studying the fallen Reaper that soars above the shattered skyline, a silent monument to a victory that somehow feels impossibly hollow. Try as I might, I can take no comfort from the idea that the Reapers are truly defeated, that the galaxy has been saved, because the one person I so desperately wanted to save the galaxy for is not here to share it with me.

What if she never comes back?

What am I going to do if the Normandy never comes home? Or if the ship comes home without her? What if she's gone? Fear boils in my stomach at the idea - I can't even bring myself to think the word 'dead'. Liara holds the other half of my soul; without her, I'm broken, incomplete. I feel like I should know if she was gone; I would be able to feel it, wouldn't I? This bonding thing has to be good for that, right? Closing my eyes, I try to focus on the part of my mind that houses my awareness of Liara. I can feel her there, a sense of deep love and abounding compassion, the distilled essence of her soul. Concentrating, I try to draw on it, and suddenly, I'm plunged into a memory, not my own...

I'm alone.

She's not coming back. My Rachel... my Rachel is gone. Huddled on my tiny cot in a soulless guest cubicle on Arcturus Station, tears run unchecked down my face as I shake with the force of my sobs. I don't want this.

I don't want to be here.

I want what I cannot have; to be back aboard the Normandy, her arms around me, the warmth of her body at my back as her hands caress me. I want the supple smoothness of her skin sliding against mine, want to comb my fingers through the soft strands of her vibrant hair, want to see the look of adoration in her emerald eyes as she writhes in pleasure beneath my touch. I want the silken, heated caress of her lips on my body, the sound of my name falling seductively from those same lips, but most of all I want to be wrapped in her mind, surrounded by her love for me, able to freely share the depth of my feelings. My lover, my friend, my heart; she has become everything to me in such a short space of time.

And she has been taken from me, forever. I will never know her touch again, on my mind or my body. Pain clenches my body into a ball at the thought, and I am barely aware of my despairing scream as my world shatters once more into mindless grief...

"Shep? Shepard!"

I open my eyes with a gasp, breathless with shock. God, it was so vivid, so real, like I was right there in Liara's mind. Miranda barges into the room behind her shout, hurrying to my side, face etched with concern as I suck in a deep, shuddering breath.

"Shep, what is it? You screamed. Are you feeling all right?"

I nod slowly. "Woah. Yeah, just - I had no idea it did that."

Miranda frowns at me in worried confusion, starting up her omni-tool to run a scan. "You're not coming through."

"Sorry, Miri." I hug myself, rubbing my hands up and down my biceps, trying to collect my scattered thoughts. "I... Liara bonded with me just before the battle in London. The process involves a memory exchange, and so I have this little corner of my brain where I can feel Liara's... presence, if you like. I was focusing on it, trying to understand it, and then I was sharing one of her memories, like it was mine. She...God, I..." I trail off, looking away from Miri as tears sting my eyes. "I'm scared, Miri," I choke out. "I don't know what I'll do if she... if I've lost her. I can't... I don't think I can do this..."

Miranda leans in and wraps me up in a hug. "Don't give up hope, Shep," she says firmly. "If anyone can get the Normandy home, it's Liara, Garrus, Joker and Tali." She pauses for thought, her offered comfort and optimism bolstering me a little. "And probably Williams as well, though I don't know her very well." She smiles faintly. "Although, I don't think she likes me very much. She'd get on well with Jack in that regard."

I manage a small smile in return. "Ash doesn't know you. She only sees the Cerberus Ice Queen, not the real you."

"Cerberus Ice Queen was working well for me for a long time," Miranda reflects humorously, "until you came along and ruined my reputation. Honestly, I..." she cuts off as her omni-tool beeps. "Hang on, I need to take this." She steps out of the room for a few minutes, and when she returns her expression is grim. Fear clamps around my throat, and she sees it right away, raising her palms in a calming gesture. "It's OK, Shep, it wasn't about the Normandy, but," she sighs heavily, "it was bad news."

"What's up?"

"I don't want to burden you further," she hedges.

"Shit, Miri, it's not like I could feel any worse. "

Miranda nods reluctantly. "It's Jacob. It's not good."

"What happened?"

"That was Brynn." Tears are sparkling in Miranda's pale blue eyes. "They found him under a pile of husks at the gates of one of the internment camps. He'd been trying to get the prisoners away from the battle zone, helping people to safety." She shakes her head with bitter humour. "Stupid bastard - he always did want to be a hero. He never did hesitate to do the right thing."

"I'm sorry, Miranda." I reach out and squeeze her shoulder. Jacob was a good man, a good soldier, one of Miranda's very few friends and confidantes; to have lost him so close to the end, when he had so much to live for... "Ah, fuck," I growl, with feeling. Not very eloquent, but it captures what I'm feeling perfectly. We sit in oppressive silence for a while, until I can't stand it any longer. "What about other people – any word on Javik?"

Miri shakes her head. "No. The last Prothean seems to have vanished into thin air. Lieutenant Cortez called to say he'll be in to see you as soon as he gets down time. Oh, and there was word on the Council this morning. Councilor Tevos and Councilor Sparatus survived, but Councilor Valern was killed. Beyond that, I haven't heard much." Miranda's expression is reflective. "I don't know that I really expect to, any more. It's been long enough that..." she catches herself abruptly, glancing guiltily at me.

"Long enough that those who could have managed to get in touch, would have?" I ask harshly, angered suddenly by the inference that she believes the Normandy to be gone too.

The compassion in Miranda's gaze makes me look away, and I feel rather than see her move closer. "Shep, I'm sorry, I spoke without thinking. I..."

"Just don't, Miranda, OK? I don't want to talk about it. Please... just put me back out, will you? I don't want to think." I don't want to dream either, but at least in there there's a chance I might see Li.

Miranda sighs in exasperation, but she knows me too well to push further right now. "All right, Shep. Sweet dreams."