Shepard knew it was only pigheaded stubbornness born of the need to know she could face her own psychosis that got her out of the ship and into the docking tube. But the first time she had to look away from 'solid' ground she was falling, falling, up, up, up, into atmo…

"Shepard? Shepard, what's wrong?" Joker asked, his voice was tinged with worry. He already knew the answer.

"I'm fine." But the words were pale. She closed her eyes, tried to reassure herself that gravlocks on her boots would work just fine…but it didn't help. Sweat beaded on her forehead, slipped down her face, down her neck, along every inch of her, the cold sweat of total terror.

She managed to move one foot, found the clunk sensation of being fixed to the 'ground' reassuring…but for the moment during which she'd only had one foot connected…that moment drained her of courage. The next step took all the blood out of her face, and came only after an act of sheer will.

Pain beat behind her eyes, tension and stress doing weird things within her skull.

"Shepard?" Alenko's raspy voice spoke gently over the radio. "Your vitals are all off the charts—take a deep breath for me."

Shepard tried to comply, but didn't manage to perform as requested. He understood the psychosis—until now she would not have used that particular word. Now she knew that was exactly what it was: she couldn't face the void aboard ship and she couldn't do it now, not even with hundreds of people dying around her. It made her eyes sting. "I can do this." The words seemed to slip between wooden lips.

"Sure you can. Just figured you might like some company."

She wanted to snarl that she didn't need someone to come out and get her, before realizing that the calm, conversational tone held no hint that any such action as in the works. She tried to still her breathing, took a step, shuddered at the momentary disconnection. "Company?" She shuddered again, so violently that she actually bent down to plant one knee against the ground, as though this would help anchor her if she somehow shivered a foot free of the magnetic lock provided by her boots.

"Sure. So, when was the last time you were at Relay Rob's?"

"You want to know about that now?!" Shepard demanded, getting to her feet, wincing, but ready to move. Of all the stupid topics…

"Why not? You wouldn't want to discuss what Joker's pushing for."

"What's Joker pushing for?"

"He wants to hear about the tattoo."

"What tattoo?"

"He wouldn't elaborate. I can't tell if he's still pissed off with me, if he doesn't know, or if it's a…personal thing you'll break every bone in his body over if you were here, so he waited to ask. I think it might be that last one. He looks a little shifty."

"He always looks a little shifty…" Shepard gave a dry, horse chuckle, closing her eyes in order to sidestep her way up the side of the tube. "You know…I've got this thing about needles, too…"

"Don't blame you. I told you," this was clearly directed to Joker, "Her ears aren't even pierced; there's no way she's got a tattoo…"

"No need to be shy, Commander!" Joker's voice came over the link faintly. "Tell him what it is: if you don't tell him where, his brain's gonna melt out of his ears—I'd like to see that happen, you know…so I've got empirical data on how that works."

"Shepard? Can I kill your pilot?"

"Sorry Alenko—no go. You could probably snatch his hat, though." Alenko must have done so, for Joker let out a 'hey!' of protest.

"Not as fun, but satisfying. Imagine the benefits if hat-snatching was an appreciated art."

Shepard gave another shiver and laugh, but negotiated the next black patch without looking down.

"Oh, no…what? That's not fair!" Alenko protested.

"What?" Shepard's voice grew unintentionally sharp.

Alenko did not respond to the tone, only to the voiced question, "EDI just forked hers over…and I don't think I can pull the snatch twice. She's shaking her head no…"

"Of course she is…" Shepard suspected that this was partly impromptu, but definitely planned: something to keep her from stalling. It was easier to ignore the void with the foolishness in her ears. "If Garrus always takes my side…EDI always takes Joker's side…"

"So who's on my side?" Alenko asked. She could imagine a sad puppy look attached to the question. If he'd been able to present it to her in person, it would probably have conjured the requested sympathy.

"Chakwas, it's gotta be Chakwas," Joker's faint voice declared after a silent moment of thought—which, in any other context, might have warranted an 'ouch' from Alenko. "Tell her."

"Joker wants me to submit a vote for Chakwas."

"I think you're out of luck…Chakwas won't take sides: she puts too much time into fixing our bumps and bruises to want us to tear each other apart."

"Painfully true. Starting to think I'm in the wrong place…"

"Liara? She's always liked you."

"This is your ship, Shepard: everyone is on your side."

"Then I don't see why you're worried." Shepard pursed her lips, squinted until all she could see was hazy grey where there was solid footing and black where there wasn't.

"Why not?"

"Because…if it's my ship…and everybody on it is on my side…then you're on my side because you're on my ship…you're clear, Alenko."

"I bow before your feat of logical gymnastics."

"And I…am almost out of this tube…" Suddenly, the ground beneath her feet dropped as the tube, already compromised, began to separate. Shepard barely suppressed her scream as she jumped, sailing weightlessly through space. She pivoted, bent her knees, her gravlocks catching on the bulkhead, for all the world as though she were a spider on a wall.

"Shepard?!"

"I'm-I'm…o-okay…but n-no one else is taking this route in…"