ONE WEEK UNTIL THE INVASION.
Shepard squinted in the early morning sunlight and took a long drag of her cigarette. The coughing fit that followed was expected.
She carefully brought a tissue from her pocked and spat into it loudly and inelegantly. Less blood this time. Maybe the doctors were right for once and she was healing fast. Well, as much as you could after heart and lung surgery.
"They'll kill you, you know, Lola."
"Pretty sure that's the bullet that lodged near my heart but hey. What do I know."
James blocked the sunlight with his massive bulk. She frowned up at him until he sat beside her on the park bench.
They were on top of one of the roofs of the buildings that made up the Alliance Headquarters in Vancouver. Many of them had been converted into parks, their concrete tops converted into lawn and installations of trees and flowers. They helped clean the polluted air and provide rest areas as well as saved space for more and more building development around them, instead of taking up precious square feet on the ground. Vancouver was nothing if not modern and efficient, one of the most impressive cities on Earth.
Shepard hated it. It was bright and crowded and after so long living in a ship or on other planets the gravity was borderline oppressive.
"Up for a run?" James asked, fidgeting. He was her assigned day guard during her incarceration, tasked with ensuring she didn't do anything stupid like attempt to leave Earth or get murdered by disgruntled batarians or anyone else on the long list of people that hated her.
Shepard could tell he was going crazy with boredom. It would almost be funny if she didn't find being shadowed so annoying. Ever since she woke up she'd been confined to the hospital, her quarters, or on rare days, the tops of buildings. At least it was quieter up here and had less staring. The illusion of freedom was sometimes all she had.
Waking up had been less than pleasant. She had spent those early weeks drugged up on morphine which happened to give her terrible night terrors that would leave her thrashing in fright. She distinctly remembered crying fearfully and then the shame that followed once she regained reality. James had surprisingly understood. He held her down to stop her tearing her stitches and would tell her calmly that they weren't real, she was in hospital, there was nothing to be afraid of anymore, he was there.
"Drugs can be a bitch, man. You'll be fine."
He said it in a way that suggested experience.
She had cried for Kaidan once or twice but he was never there. The Council had called him to the Citadel and she had no access to contact him. They had confiscated her omni-tool and cut off all contact with Joker or anyone else that could have helped her send a message. James told her the Alliance also had Kaidan running around on busywork missions and she could speculate why. To keep him away from her and to make sure her reputation didn't tarnish him. They had all but given up on her reputation as a Spectre. Udina needed a squeaky clean representation for Earth and he was it.
"James," she sighed, "do you ever feel like you chose the wrong career?"
He frowned at her thoughtfully. "Not really. What else am I good at? Besides, I like kicking ass and guns."
She nodded. "Same. I suppose. Could do with more guns right about now."
She smoked her cigarette for a while watching as a woman climbed the stairs to their roof with a young boy. She was holding his hand and listening to something he was chattering about. As they made it atop, the woman went and sat on a bench as the boy began playing with his model ships in the grass.
Shepard figured they had to be family members of someone working in the Alliance HQ or the woman Alliance herself. This roof in particular only had access from the Alliance administrative building. Judging by the sundress the woman was wearing and the way she carried herself, probably the wife of a soldier.
Shepard scowled and coughed.
"So that run?" James said again, standing.
"Sure, if you carry my dead body downstairs," she replied but stood anyway, threw away her cigarette, and half-heartedly jogged after him. Her chest burned like hell but she forced herself to continue. The doctors said light exercise was good for her and would help her heal. She needed to be ready for the Reapers. She couldn't save anyone if she couldn't run a mile without fainting.
One lap around the roof had her coughing and spluttering so she waved James to continue on without her and collapsed on a bench, breathing heavily. She sat for a while, trying to gather herself and cursing her body for being so fallible. They should have given her a fully cybernetic heart. Maybe it wouldn't have hurt so much.
"Are you sick?"
She looked up. The boy was standing in front of her, looking at her with childishly earnest concern. Shepard guessed him to be about six.
"Sort of," she muttered, hoping he would leave.
He bit his lip. "Um, my mom says that when you're sick you get extra cuddles and it helps you feel better."
"Does she? Uhh, I'll try that later maybe."
She didn't really have anyone to cuddle anymore, but she supposed she'd better not dash the hopes of a six year old by telling him all the hugs in the world wouldn't repair getting a hole blown in your chest or failed relationships. Which were the same thing really.
To her horror, the child climbed onto the bench beside her. She looked around desperately for the boy's mother hoping she would come along and scold the kid for talking to strangers but she was engrossed in a book and apparently unconcerned with her son talking to random women on park benches.
"Are you a soldier?" he asked brightly. "My daddy is a soldier. We're waiting for him."
"Yup," she answered.
"You're not very big. My daddy is very tall."
And I could probably kick his ass blind-folded she thought but didn't speak. She wasn't a complete asshole.
She didn't say anything more, hoping her disinterest would make him get bored and go way.
It didn't work.
"Do you like my ship?"
He held out his model toy for inspection with clear pride.
"It's very nice," she said honestly.
"My daddy got it for me," he said proudly. "My daddy flies in one like it. He's so brave. Is your dad a soldier too?"
She sighed and debated jumping off the roof.
"No," she said. "He's… something else."
He blinked but was undeterred. "Why are you sick?"
"Got sick."
Got shot.
"Why?"
"Just happens."
"Are you gonna get better?"
"Probably."
"Good." He kicked his little feet in the air, apparently satisfied with one word answers.
A breeze picked up, blowing Shepard's overgrown hair across her face. It was quiet and warm and she felt a moment of rare calm. Maybe it wasn't so bad to have the child just sit there with her. James was still off doing his laps. Shepard and the boy watched him silently.
"I miss my daddy," he said quietly. "He goes away for work a lot. He's leaving soon again."
"That's tough," she said. "I'm sorry."
"Do you think I'll see him again soon?"
Shepard thought of the smell of Miles just after the few baths she was allowed to give him, his soft curly hair, the way he looked at her with such trust.
She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. "Of course you will."
The boy noticed the change in her voice. He frowned and then reached over and gave her his ship.
"You look sad. My ship helps."
Shepard turned the ship over in her hands, laughing through promised tears. "It must be a special ship then. Take good care of it."
"Henry!" the boy's mother called. "We're leaving."
The boy leapt off the bench, taking his ship back. "See you!" he called, running to his mother.
"Bye!" Shepard called back. When he left she wiped her face.
Later that night she lay in bed unable to sleep. Her stomach ached. It wasn't physical pain, but pure longing and loneliness. She was seized with the urge to do something, anything to stop this purgatory, to talk to someone, to escape.
She leapt out of bed, unable to bare it any long and pulled on her tank top and utility pants. The door was locked when she tried it.
"Dammit."
It seemed they still didn't trust her.
Shepard thought hard, glancing around the room for anything she could use. All she could see were the large bay windows. She quickly debated smashing them and climbing down, but aside from not being confident she wouldn't fall to her death, it would raise too much of an alarm and they would tighten the noose already around her neck.
She sighed and decided she'd have to do it the embarrassing way.
"Guard! Guard!" she called. "Quick! I can't breathe!"
She banged on the door and theatrically made her voice quaver.
"What's wrong?" the large night guard said opening the door.
"I'm dying!" she cried. "Quick, go get the medical officer!"
"I'll radio!"
"No, there's no time!"
She slumped to the floor, moaning and groaning and clutching her throat.
She forced a large cough (that really did hurt) and managed to cough some of the remaining fluid in her lungs up onto his boots. (It was normal while her heart was healing still and she was already taking cardiac medication for it, but the guard didn't have to know that.)
The guard was so alarmed and disgusted he almost sprinted out of the room, sliding the door shut behind him. Shepard leapt forward at the last second, diving across the room, and caught the door just before it latched.
"Yes," she hissed, quickly climbing to her feet and jamming one of her boots in the gap to wedge it open. She stealthily padded down the hall in the opposite direction to where the guard had went. She had maybe five minutes tops before the guard arrived with the medical officer.
Luckily she had memorized the layout and knew exactly who she was after.
"James," she whispered, banging as quietly on his door as she could.
James opened the door to her, shirtless and sleepy. He rubbed his eyes, blinking at her in confusion.
"Shepard what-?"
"Lemme in." She barged past him into his quarters. It was surprisingly neat.
"I need to use your terminal to send a message."
James balked. "You can't. You're not allowed. I'll get reprimanded or demoted."
"No you won't," she wheedled, "I'll knock you out if I have to make it look good or just say I threatened you. Please, please, I need to. This is really important. We won't get caught."
"Shepard, you can't-"
She was already crossing to his terminal at his desk. A prompt for a password blinked at her.
She wheeled around, looking at him straight in the eye.
"I'm not doing anything illegal. I just want to send one message to my friend. Just one."
James stared at her hard, his eyes blazing, searching her face.
"Fine." He crossed to his desk and unlocked it with his access card. "Be quick."
Shepard leapt to the virtual keyboard, not even worrying about her spelling or legibility. She would understand.
SAMARA,
IS HE OK? AM ON EARTH. LOCKED UP. GIVE ME YOUR LOCATION.
She stared breathlessly at the screen for what felt like minutes but in reality was only a few seconds.
Shepard,
We are all fine. Location: Orisoni System, Planet Ceres.
She only typed one sentence back.
IM COMING. WAIT FOR ME.
She logged off, turning to James. He was frowning at the screen.
"Who was that? What are you doing?"
"Don't worry about it," she said, briefly touching his shoulder and dashing for the door. "Thank you, thank you."
She knew it was a bad thing that she had just done, abusing James' trusting nature and his kindness, potentially threatening his career with collaboration. But she would do very many bad things for Miles. She didn't think there was a limit. That should have scared her, but it didn't anymore.
She heard footsteps as she approached her room and she flat out sprinted for her door, making it just inside as the medical officer and her guard rounded the corner. She collapsed on the floor gasping, this time genuinely.
"See?" the guard was saying, "She looks awful."
The medical officer bent down to tend to her and she answered his questions distantly. She knew where he was. Now she had to leave Earth. Somehow.
INVASION DAY.
The facility was a buzz of activity and rumors. Officers scurried around looking tense and worried. It was happening, even she could tell cut off from outside contact. A lead weight settled into her belly. She couldn't eat breakfast and she kept breaking into a sweat that would cool into chills and made her feel slimy and sick.
She spent her last minutes of incarceration staring out the window at the boy from before playing on the nearby roof top. She smiled as he mimed flying with his ship. She wondered if his father would ever come home again.
"Commander."
"You're not supposed to call me that anymore, James."
She followed him and Anderson through the halls, a buzz of activity and fear around her. She couldn't blame them. She found herself afraid too. The Reapers were here. And she was still on Earth. Miles was out there without her, and so was Kaidan. The two people who meant the most to her were adrift in a galaxy at war. A war she knew they couldn't win.
She was quiet as she stood with Anderson and James outside the Alliance war room. Was this how it ended? Stuck on Earth as the galaxy started burning? Her mind raced with fear and a thousand horrible possibilities. She should have escaped a week ago. She shouldn't have played nice. She should have stolen a ship, found Miles, and hid him somewhere the Reapers would never find.
But how could see? There was nowhere to hide. Nowhere to run. She found herself breathing shallowly, and willed herself not to panic.
"Shepard?" James said uncertainly. "You alright?"
"Shepard?" Another familiar voiced called. Her heart stopped.
"Kaidan?"
He had just left the war room. She stared at him in shock for far too long. He looked tall, professional, and distant. He had his formal uniform on.
Anderson was asking him how something went.
"All right. Just waiting for orders now."
"You're on Earth?" she stuttered.
He had the grace to look apologetic. "Yeah. Just got back last night." He grimaced. "Sorry I haven't been able to see you. Been busy."
He looked it. He was thinner and more muscular, his hair more gray. His eyes said he had barely slept in months.
There was an awkward beat. James coughed.
"You look better."
"Thanks," she said numbly. "I need to talk to you. Can we go somewhere private?"
Her heart felt like it was going to explode. She couldn't do this but she had to. She had to. It was time. The world was ending. The only time. She was terrified in a whole different way than the Reapers made her feel.
He looked uncomfortable. "I really can't I have to-"
She seized his arm, ignoring the looks from Anderson and James. "Please," she practically begged, staring at him. "This is important."
He watched her with wide dark eyes, clearly surprised at her behavior and desperation.
"Alright, alright."
She started to lead him to a side room but an aide called, "Commander! They'll see you now."
"No no no," she whispered, "give me a minute."
"Now," said Anderson, "This is our only chance to formulate some defense. Every minute thousands die. You can speak to Alenko afterwards."
Her eyes darted in panic. Kaidan touched her shoulder.
"Hey, hey, what's wrong?"
She clutched his arm around the bicep so tightly her nails dug into his skin, leaving crescent marks.
"Find me afterwards. I need to tell you the truth."
"Okay," he agreed slowly, studying her face. "We'll work this out later. Calm down."
"I can't. You don't understand."
Anderson tugged her arm and she reluctantly walked numbly into the war room.
She gave her speech as best she could, but it was tinged with a unique kind of panic and despair at their lack of defenses. The Alliance was only now listening to her, when it was far too late.
She watched the Reapers descend from the sky in slow motion, all elegant black lines, gleaming in the Vancouver sunlight, like the clouds were their cocoon and they were breaking free to be born again; born to bring death and destruction. They seemed incongruous next to the white Vancouver skyscrapers, all at once too modern and too ancient. In the distance, a skyscraper caught on fire and collapsed.
It looked like shooting stars, she thought, detached in her horror.
All the stars are a-bloom with flowers.
It was the fleet being destroyed in orbit, she really knew, thousands of ships and lives hitting the atmosphere and catching alight.
Is this what I've given my son? His birthright? Did I bring him into this world only for me to watch him die along with everything and everyone?
The Alliance parliament members rose from their large curved desk by the window as a Reaper descended close to their building.
"Run! Go, go!" she yelled, she and Anderson the only ones not rooted to the spot already backing away from the window.
Then the world exploded and she was flying through the air. Everything went black.
