This... was not enjoyable to write. At all.

There was a certain tranquil beauty about Alchera, if one were observing it from space. It looked quiet. Peaceful. Ice floes and mountains etched patterns of art into the planet's surface. Something about it spoke serenity to the ignorant, whispered safety to the naive.

Liara was neither of those. To her, this world howled a siren song of despair, wailed sorrow that her numb soul was incapable of expressing on its own. Many would've called her a masochist, for returning to this place so soon after what had happened- it had barely been a month. Rubbing salt in the wounds, she believed the human phrase was. And a wound it was… As if her very essence had been rent in two and lay open, gaping, raw, and bleeding. Truth be told, she wasn't even sure why she was here, or what she expected to find. She only knew that something was drawing her here like a moth to flames, and she was incapable of resisting the call.

She clamped down on that line of thought, jaw clenching as she tapped on the navigation console and laid in a flight path for the small vessel she was piloting. As the ship fell into orbit she activated the scanners she had equipped specifically for this trip. It likely wouldn't take long to find her goal- the Normandy would've left a swath of destruction in her wake as she fell to the surface in pieces, obliterating Alchera's otherwise pristine surface.

Until that happened though, there was nothing to do but wait. Waiting meant inactivity.

Inactivity had become Liara's enemy. It gave her mind time to wander, and given that opportunity… It always went to the one place Liara did not want to go. The place that ripped off the paper-thin layer of healing from her wounded heart and started the hemorrhage all over again. The place she couldn't go, or she would be lost.

But memories still ghosted across her vision, unbidden, unwelcome, yet persistent.

The Normandy was burning. Everywhere.

The best and fastest ship in the Alliance fleet, helmed by one of the Alliance's best pilots, hadn't been able to evade whatever it was that was swiftly chasing them down.

Liara half ran, half stumbled through the destroyed CIC to where Shepard was prepping the distress beacon. Their last hope. Their only hope. There wasn't even time to wonder what the hell was attacking them. What kind of weapon could cut through their shields and armor like they weren't even there. The only thing that mattered was that the Normandy was dying, and her crew would soon follow if they didn't evacuate.

The beeping of the scanner console mercifully tore Liara away from things remembered. A few swipes transferred the coordinates to the nav computer, another set the autopilot, and with a slight shudder Liara's ship began the descent to the surface. When she'd set out on this journey, she'd wondered if that mysterial vessel would still be here, if its inhabitants would want to finish the job that they'd started. Part of her feared that those thoughts would be true.

The other just didn't give a fuck. They'd taken what had been most important to her. Taken Shepard. Let them take her too.

But no… Liara was alone here. From orbit, Alchera was immaculate. Untouched. It was only as Liara's ship drew closer to the surface, only as bits and pieces of debris began to appear, that this planet of ice showed any scarring from what had happened in its orbit. The detritus became more frequent as Liara neared the coordinates from the scanner, until finally she saw it.

The Normandy had fallen to her resting place a shattered hulk of the glorious ship she had once been. The part of the fuselage bearing her name had landed on an ice plain- as good a landing place as any, Liara decided, and keyed in the location. As the ship's landing cycle kicked in and the thrusters fired, Liara stood from the pilot's seat and moved aft to suit up.

Armoring up had become a familiar comfort, something she now did by rote. Thighs, calves, boots. Chest, arms, gauntlets. Check the seals, wiggle toes and fingers to make sure nothing was pinched. She forewent the helmet that she would normally don- hers had been damaged beyond repair while escaping the Normandy and she hadn't had the time or willpower to think about replacing it- and pressed a breather mask to her face instead, feeling the suction around her mouth and nose as it sealed. Holstering a pistol at her waist- just in case, she told herself- she stepped into the airlock and cycled the door.

The inner door hissed shut behind her, and Liara breathed deep once, twice, three times, before she pressed the controls and opened the outer door. Cold rushed in, bitter and stinging, stealing Liara's breath for a moment as she stepped out onto the snow. She stood there for a moment, simply gazing up at the letters that were still emblazoned proudly on the wrecked hull. She turned before the tears could even threaten to start, and slowly moved through the remnants of the ship that had given her so much.

It was… difficult, seeing which parts of the Normandy had come to their final resting place nearly intact, and which ones were nearly unrecognizable. The cockpit had survived- mostly. The consoles sat askew from the chair, their screens shattered. Liara stood there for a moment, hand on the chair's headrest, Joker's voice echoing in her mind, telling some human joke that she'd never quite understood but had laughed at anyway because his mood was infectious.

Liara turned and walked toward the next section of rubble, but a glint caught her eye as the wind whipped through the jagged edges of the broken vessel. Curious, she moved toward it to find a pair of dog tags, the chain snagged on the mangled end of a support beam. She reached out for them-

And her breath caught in her throat as her finger nudged the edge of one and it spun around to reveal an N7 logo.

Liara's hand clenched around the two small pieces of metal and brought them to her, and for a moment she just stared at her closed fist. She could deny the truth for as long as they remained safely wrapped in her palm, could pretend that there had been another N7 aboard the Normandy, could tell herself that she was not holding all that there was left of Shepard.

She had to, or she would be lost.

As if in a trance, she continued on through the corpse of the Alliance's greatest ship. There were ghosts everywhere here, memories that would not be stifled. The CIC was nearly unrecognizable save for the giant platform that had overlooked the galaxy map display. Involuntarily, Liara turned and looked off to the side, where Shepard had prepped and launched the distress beacon that had never had a chance of saving them, and images flashed across her vision again, as real as if she were living them again.

"Get everyone onto the escape shuttles." Shepard tossed a fire extinguisher to Liara as the two of them tried in vain to stifle the flames that were everywhere.

"Joker's still in the cockpit, he won't evacuate." The Normandy rocked underneath their feet. "I'm not leaving, either." The words that followed it were unspoken, more of an emotion than actual words. I'm not leaving you.

Liara could hear the frustration and the worry in her bondmate's voice. "I need you to get the crew onto the evac shuttles!" I need you to be safe. Shepard grabbed Liara's hand, squeezed it once, hard, and took the fire extinguisher back as she nudged her toward the escape pods. "I'll take care of Joker." She turned and took a step toward the cockpit, only for the deck to buck underneath their feet again.

"Shepard…" The desperation and worry bled through Liara's voice. Please.

"Liara, go!" Clinging to a beam for support, Shepard turned to look at her and their eyes met, even clouded by the lenses of their helmets, and her next word was full of authority. "Now!" I love you. I'll be fine.

Liara only hesitated another fraction of a second before ingrained reflexes responded to the command. "Aye aye." I love you. Be careful.

Those had been the last words she and Shepard had exchanged.

Liara blinked furiously, clearing the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. She would not break. Not here. Not now. She bit down on her tongue so hard that she tasted blood, and pushed forward through the wreck. She stood dumbfounded for a moment upon seeing the Mako, sitting completely intact atop a pile of snow as though someone had parked it there, and despite herself, a laugh bubbled up out of her. "Of course it would be the one thing to come out unscathed," she whispered. Speaking aloud felt odd. There was no one here to hear her, no one to agree or argue. Just Liara, and specters of a past that shouldn't be dead.

Liara moved past the bank of sleeper pods that lay half-buried in the snow, toward the last visible section of wreckage. The mess table lay just in front of it, upside down. Phantoms danced in front of her as she remembered all of the time the crew had spent together gathered around it- Garrus and Tali getting her drunk, Ash and Kaiden trying to teach her how to play poker, Wrex and Dr. Chakwas arguing over whether some injury actually needed stitches or not. A faint smile gracing her lips, she moved past it, recognizing what remained of the crew deck, and the spot where Kaiden had always stood. Her feet carried her forward of their own accord when she saw what lay beyond.

The door to her and Shepard's quarters lay partially ajar, revealing the mostly unmarred room behind it. Trembling, she stepped through it. The compartment had landed at an angle, and most of the furniture had slid to the bottom side because of it. The desk was still bolted to the wall, the drawers hanging open, random bits and pieces visible within. Carefully, she pulled a few out, one by one.

A picture of the two of them, during their first real date on the Citadel. Shepard hadn't realized Liara was taking it at the time, and was looking down at the Asari with so much love in her eyes that even now it made Liara's heart race.

A half completed model ship, some sort of Turian fighter, Liara thought. She'd been amused when she'd discovered Shepard's "secret" hobby and had made a habit of making sure the commander always had one to work on in her downtime.

A small toolkit, likely the one that Shepard had used to fine-tune her armor systems. A few OSDs.

Liara frowned, her brow creasing as she looked down at the last item in the drawer and reached in to pick it up. The blue velvet box was nearly the size of her hand. One of Shepard's medals, perhaps? Though why was it here and not with Shepard's dress blues? She wedged her thumb in the crease and flicked it open.

...Oh…

Nestled in satin in the center of the box lay a ring of platinum, inlaid with a diamond in the middle and a sapphire and emerald on either side of it. Above and below it, two matching bracelets of Ilium white gold, engraved in Thessian runescript.

Now and Forever, We Are One.

Ring… Bonding bracelets…

Shepard had been planning to propose to her.

That knowledge was all it took for the dam around her heart and soul to finally break, and the agony to pour out from it as she finally mourned everything she hadn't even known she had lost.

Liara strained against the escape pod's restraints, constantly keying the comm panel. "Shepard? Joker? Goddess, will one of you please answer me?!" She ignored the looks that Ashley and Dr. Chakwas were exchanging, disregarded the worry that passed between them. "Anyone?!"

"I'm here." It wasn't the voice she needed to hear. "I'm… I'm here." The pain in Joker's voice was evident.

"Where's Shepard?" Liara demanded.

"She…" Joker's voice cracked around a sob. "She shoved me into the pod, and… She didn't make it. She… She's gone."

Gone.

Joker's words didn't register. Shepard couldn't be gone. She was the best of them, the strongest. She had beat Saren, beat Sovereign. It wasn't possible that this could kill her. Shepard should have outlived them all.

"Find her comm channel," Liara commanded. "We'll pick her up."

"Liara…" Joker's thick was thick with tears. "Her suit… She got hit. It was venting oxygen when she closed the pod."

"No…" The whispered plea fell from Liara's lips even as she desperately stretched her mind out, along the connection that tethered her to Shepard, connected her to her bondmate, joined her to the person who meant more to her than anything ever had.

For one brief, beautiful moment, Shepard was there with her, her mental caress Liara's entire existence. Relief that Liara was alive, was safe, poured through the bond. I love you so much. I'm sorry. Liara frowned in confusion, straining to keep the connection, trying to understand why Shepard was apologizing-

And with a sensation so foreign that Liara would never be able to describe the depth of pain that it brought, that sacred link snapped in two, leaving a void in its wake, extinguishing a light that had burned as brightly as a sun.

Liara was sure her own heart stopped. She couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't breathe. Agony was all she knew, every nerve afire as everything that she was begged, pleaded, implored for her other half to be returned to her.

But her prayers fell on deaf ears, and the anguish ate its way through her from the inside out, consuming her. Someone was wailing in grief… Only as her senses returned to her one by one did Liara realize that it was her. Ash knelt above her- somehow she'd ended up on the floor- her own eyes full of tears as she looked down at Liara, lost.

"Liara, your biotics… you have to stop…" she cried, pressing a hand to Liara's chest, keeping her on the floor.

Liara snarled in response, her heartache pouring out of her in flickers of blue smoke. "Let me up! I have to save her!"

Ash turned her head to look at Dr. Chakwas, taking the syringe she was handed. "I'm sorry, Liara… I'm so sorry…"

A pinch to the side of her neck was the last thing she knew before her world went black.

When her senses returned, Liara found herself kneeling in the snow outside the compartment, picture frame, box, and dog tags clutched to her chest. Tears poured from her eyes and down her face, threatening to freeze. But she didn't care. She fell forward, forehead hitting the snow, and sobbed for everything that they had had together and lost. She mourned for everything that would never be, for the future that had been taken from them. And she grieved for who she had been, because that young, hopeful asari was gone forever.

Time was immaterial, as she lay prostrated on the snow. A month's worth of pent up grief and agony poured out of her all at once, until she lay there broken and empty. Her face had long since gone numb, and the cold was beginning to seep in even through the seals of her armor. She finally managed to stagger to her feet, still clinging to the items she held to her chest. Only by concentrating on one foot at a time did she manage to stumble back to her ship, still nearly blind with tears. Only once she was back in its relative warmth did she realize that she was shivering.

With half-frozen fingers she clumsily opened her footlocker to stow the picture frame and box inside, nestling them near the bottom where she wouldn't accidentally come across them. She left the tags sitting near the top and awkwardly began taking her armor off. She'd been in the snow too long. Her reflexes were dull, limbs slow, she needed to get warm…

Finally the last piece of armor fell to the floor and she grabbed for the emergency blanket she'd packed, activating the heating coils and wrapping it around herself before collapsing into the pilot's chair. She drew her knees up to her chin and rested her head on them, pulling the blanket up to cover her completely as she soaked in its warmth. Gradually she felt the chill recede, though the void in the center of her being remained icy. Numb. Shepard was gone, and part of Liara had died with her.

Liara reached down and snagged Shepard's dog tags, refastening the loose clasp on the chain before dropping them around her neck. The two pieces of metal settled against her heart, and Liara laid a hand over them, holding them there. If this was what remained of her bondmate, Liara would wear them for the rest of her life in remembrance.

Suddenly desperate to be gone from the world that had claimed the life of someone so precious, Liara keyed the autopilot to take the ship back to orbit. She didn't know where she would go next, but she could figure that out in space. Right now… right now she just needed to be gone from this place and all the specters of the past that inhabited it.

She activated the shield on the viewport as the ship reached orbit, unwilling to even look at Alchera any longer. She sat motionless in the chair, empty and dazed, until the ship's comm terminal beeped several times in succession as it re-established its connection. She flipped through the messages with disinterest. Most of them were nonsense- forwards from the University of Serrice, junk mail from various vendors. A few were from the Normandy's crew- they'd started a group chat of sorts after they'd been rescued and returned to the Citadel, when they'd all had to go their separate ways again. One was from Captain- Councilor- Anderson, who knew what she and Shepard had been, and had offered her a place to stay in his apartment on the Citadel for as long as she needed. Liara had declined that offer, unable to stand the pity and remorse in his eyes.

The last message in the queue caught her attention though. It was tagged from an unknown sended, yet somehow had evaded her junk mail filter, and was titled simply "Shepard". Curiosity got the better of her, and she opened it.

I have information about Shepard that may concern you. If you're interested, meet me in the Afterlife.

Liara stared at the terminal in disbelief, her mind awhirl. The timestamp on the message was new. This wasn't something that had been sent weeks ago and she had just ignored. Someone… somewhere… Knew something about the attack and its consequences. Why now? And why was Shepard directly mentioned?

The Afterlife. Omega. Liara's thoughts jumped to overdrive, skipping from notion to expensive to dock there on her own, she'd have to hire passage. Get more weapons. Omega wasn't a safe place to go unarmed. Back to the Citadel first, then.

Before she'd even realized it, she'd keyed the flight path in to head back to the mass relay and then the Citadel. She questioned her sanity for a moment, feeling nearly manic. Shepard was dead. There was no way she could have survived that fall to the planet's surface, especially not without oxygen. She was likely headed directly into a trap.

And yet…

Liara would never be able to forgive herself if there was the smallest chance to get back what she had lost and she didn't take it.