It took Shepard a minute to realize that the grey mass he was looking at wasn't the back of his eyelids but was instead the shifting cloud cover beginning to split above his head. Weak sunlight filtered down over the ruined city of London as if seeking to give physical warmth to the victors of the city's recent conflict. For Shepard it offered no comfort. Everything was cold or numb and when it wasn't he wished it was because the only alternative was mind splitting pain. It was mildly annoying to see sunlight like that coming down from above but being unable to feel its warmth; however the more annoying issue at hand was the whistling. He didn't know where it was coming from or who was emitting the sound but it was unpleasant and sounded wet, as if someone were trying to mimic a bird but their throat and tongue were coated in spittle. The second annoying part about the sound was the inconsistency. It wasn't a persistent sound that never stopped but instead it would ring out and scrape his ears before falling silent only to return moments later with varying degrees of strength or length. It took Shepard a while to realize that the whistling was the sound of his own breathing and it made him realize that he most likely had a punctured lung or something similar which explained the wet sound that accompanied the feeling. After that the sound wasn't as annoying.
He was alive. The pain, the breathing, and the perception of his surroundings seemed to confirm it for him. He wasn't sure how long he had been sitting there but moving his neck made his head gush with pain that made him want to scream so he gave up on doing so. This meant he was stuck with the perspective he already had. He'd inspected the same pile of rubble dozens of times already and in the distance the heaps of destroyed Reapers and fallen sky scrapers had not magically moved which meant he had nothing new to see. He had yet to form an opinion on the situation. Dimly he was aware that he was supposed to be happy that he was alive but all the fact could provoke from him as a response was incredulous surprise. By all rights he should absolutely be dead and a part of him yearned for it. He was just so tired after everything he had done. Sitting alone in a pile of rubble of his own making Shepard couldn't help but remember what Admiral Anderson had said before he had died. It felt like it had been years since Shepard had just sat for the sake of sitting and now that it was all he could do it made him feel old and tired. So very tired.
Anderson. That name provoked a strangled and guttural moan from Shepard's throat as he sought to give voice to the pain that sought to overwhelm him by rising up from within his chest and invading his mind. His old mentor and guide had died and Shepard had played no small part in the act. Realistically he knew he should entirely blame the illusive man but at the end of the day it had been Shepard's finger that had pulled the trigger and a large part of his mind couldn't help but wonder, what if he had resisted more? What if he had managed to gather more strength of will or what if he had aimed three inches to the right? Maybe it would have saved his old friend but he would never know. The man had died and hadn't even bothered to take Shepard with him.
At some point he must have dozed off because Shepard awoke to the sound of falling rock and crushing stone. He couldn't turn his neck but he could tell something was moving over the pile of rubble behind him. Not knowing if it was a potential ally that could save him or an enemy coming to finish him off, Shepard tried to slow his breathing so as to blend in with his surroundings. Unfortunately there was little he could do and for the first time in his life Shepard resigned himself to whatever fate had in store for him. He had never felt so helpless in his entire life, not even early on in his soldiering career when he had lost his entire squad on Akuze. When thing's had looked the darkest and he had been absolutely sure that a thresher maw was going to devour him a spark had ignited within him that had insisted he push forward. Shepard had always been too embarrassed to talk about it (or maybe scared?) but he dared not confess to his superiors the reason for his tenacity. They had always attributed it to his superior soldier mentality and it had quickly earned him respect and the candidacy for becoming the first human specter in the future but the truth hadn't been as noble. When the entire world had looked like it was going to insist on killing him Shepard had stood tall and spat in its face not for the Alliance but for the exact opposite. From an orphan struggling on earth, to a fledgling soldier, to a specter, he had always refused to die because he hadn't felt like he'd ever had the chance to truly live. There had always been someone else needing something or another mission to be completed for the greater good. As a public servant he had fulfilled his duty but it had never been his motivation. Maybe that's why he was still hanging on even now. There had to be something to live for right?
Another shower of rocks fell down the slope, this time it was closer to Shepard and he was able to actually see the last few rocks roll to a stop near his left foot. All Sheppard could offer as a response was another wet whistle but it was enough. A curious sound rang out as someone began sliding down the side of the hill and within seconds the tanned and dirty face of a human male came into focus. Despite the grime and sweat covering the man's features his surprise and worry was obvious and upon noticing that Sheppard's chest was steadily rising and falling the man quickly began shouting and waving back in the direction he had come from.
It was hard to focus his thoughts but Sheppard could see that the man was Alliance military by the cracked armor he was wearing. A minute after the man had shouted and begun moving rocks around Sheppard's body more people appeared. Three more humans and a turian. All were male and bore military apparel and insignia to show that they had probably been infantry against the reapers and despite all odds to the contrary they had survived the final push. With all five men working together and the long arms of the turian they were able to remove most of the rubble from around Sheppard's body including the large boulder which had been pinning his right ankle to the stone below. Sheppard didn't have to read their faces to know that he was in bad shape but seeing their unabashed surprise and barely suppressed winces of sympathy made him feel an odd sense of pride. Look at me he thought. Look at what we can survive.
Shepard opened his eyes again and this time the world was moving. He dimly remembered being picked up by the group of men and being carried to a handmade stretcher made with green tarp tied to two metal sign poles. He assumed he was still on the stretcher because when he looked up all he could see was the face of the original man who had found him and a much brighter blue sky past his face. After an undetermined amount of time the man said something to an unseen spectator signalling that it was time to switch. Soon the turian replaced the human, relieving him of the stretcher's burden. The turian was surprisingly ugly which probably meant that he had been in the military a lot longer than just the token service time much of his species gave. One eye was milky white with scarred tissue around the socket and the entire left side of his face was a burned mess of scar tissue and missing flesh. "Gah-rus?" Sheppard wheezed the singular name out between two breaths and the turian glanced down at him with curiosity. "No sir, there's no Gahrus here. Lieutenant Canna at your service, there's Alliance men with me if that's what bothers you. You're safe, there's a forward operations center not far from here with a field hospital set up. We've applied some medigel. We'll get you there in one piece. We uhh… we won!" The turian's scarred face lit up as he proclaimed the united forces victories over the Reapers. "None Of us really know how long you were under that rubble and frankly we didn't expect to find anyone still alive given the fact that the piece from the Citadel fell in the area but… the enemy is defeated so you don't need to worry."
The turian continued to speak but eventually the words began to fade away into a drone-like buzz in the back of Shepard's head. He couldn't stop his thoughts from wandering away and they turned to Garus. The old c-sec officer turned vigilante had been one of his earliest crew members and companions. The turian had been a bit uptight at first and his ideals had been rigid and extreme when chasing Saren but as they had spent time together Sheppard had seen the warrior grow into a loyal companion able to follow him into hell on multiple occasions. His humour had actually grown into existence and with it came his more empathetic and caring side. The two of them had saved each other's lives so many times that it had almost seemed that as long as they never separated neither would perish. Before their mission to charge the teleporter that led to the Citadel the two of them had agreed to meet at the bar if they both survived and if neither did the promise remained even if the location would be different. Shepard sincerely hoped the turian had made it out on the Normandy; He was a good friend and he deserved to see the peace that he had bought with blood; Additionally, Shepard could really go for a stiff drink and he was in no mood to buy anything.
With the thought of Garrus came the memory of the rest of his crew. He was worried about Liara and her constant work in relation to being the shadow broker. He hoped she'd learn to take a break and rest now that the war was over. Javik was a being of pure vindictive anger and up until now he had been singularly bent on ending the Reaper threat. In hindsight Shepard felt bad for judging the Prothean since he himself hadn't been much different. The prothean had confessed that he intended to end his own life after the war was done and Shepard hadn't known what to say at the time but now he hoped to meet the Prothean again. Shepard hoped he could convince the alien to give this new galaxy a chance. Oddly enough Shepard had the most faith that Alenko would be able to continue on the easiest. The specter was a human soldier through and through and just because the war was over didn't mean the man would end his service just yet. Vega was an odd one and Shepard hadn't spent enough time with the exercise addicted N7 recruit but Shepard knew a man running from something when he saw it and he could only hope that with peace time would come actual peace and fulfillment to the soldier. His thoughts naturally drifted towards Joker and EDi and a hot flash of pain and guilt seemed to hit him in his chest as he realized that he had chosen to kill EDI and that when the truth was revealed Joker would never look at him the same. The pilot had been with him from the start and had handled his precious ship for years but Shepard had robbed him of a love much greater and he wasn't sure that was a rift that could ever truly be bridged. Love.
"Come back to me."
Shepard awoke with a scream. His right arm thrashed and it felt as if liquid fire was coursing through his veins. A bright light above his head made it impossible to gauge his surroundings but he could hear others shouting in response to his sudden jerking.
"Hold him down! Damn it I said hold him! Use your entire fucking body if you have to but hold him! And someone get me a sedative if he keeps moving like that, who knows what'll rupture."
All Shepard could offer as a response was another untethered scream of pain. Every breath was agony and he couldn't fully comprehend the pain his body was in. It was like some cruel god had discovered the exact line of pain that caused humans to fall unconscious and then had deposited Shepard just before it.
"Come back to me."
The voice echoed around Shepard's skull. It wasn't hostile or unpleasant and if he was in a calmer mood he could have sworn it was soothing but with the life ending pain constantly hitting him in waves there was no way to actually focus on the voice or it's source but it haunted him. It burned him. It urged him forward. He had to return to someone no matter the cost and at this point pain was nothing to Shepard. Pain was an old and almost comforting enemy that had never defeated him before and it wouldn't now. He'd get back to that voice no matter what.