Author's Note: Happy-extremely-late-Halloween! Hope that was fun for everyone. Happy early Thanksgiving! And Happy early Hanukkah! I would also like to celebrate the one year anniversary of With Lions that took place on November 22. The good news is that I'm not burned out on Mass Effect after one year, so hopefully the obsession is here to stay.
ODST117 requested a while back for a chapter that included a conversation between Colt and Anderson. I have finally fulfilled that request, but I'm not quite sure it's what you had in mind. I hope you like it.
dk93 requested more Aethyta chapters. Probably not what you wanted out of their conversation, but I hope you still like it regardless.
Another big thank you goes out to V-rcingetorix for all the great ideas, and continued support.
Chapter Seventy Four: The First Day of Winter
Shepard thought he knew what pain was. After all, he had been shot, kicked in painful areas, stabbed, burned with boiling water, scratched, partially hit with a Reaper beam, bitten, slapped with an ungodly amount of force, tortured, had his luscious locks ripped out his skull, had a serpent carved into his arm, been on the receiving end of Krogan hugs, had more than a few unfortunate incidents with zippers, experienced frost bite, lost a couple bar fights, been hit with a red-hot firewood poker, whipped with a belt, actually died, gotten hit square-on with biotics, went through the aftermath of a spicy taco, been attacked with a beer bottle, blew-out his eardrums, and clawed off patches of his own skin. But nothing had prepared Colt for getting a leg blown off or recovering from surgery without strong medication.
Shock had made the moments directly after the explosion pain free, so post surgery being akin to hell was a little unexpected. It didn't help that he wasn't distracted anymore. The hordes of people coming in and out of his room had kept his mind somewhat away from the agony he felt; but their company had only lasted an hour or two. Then his doctors shooed everyone out so he could sleep. A task that had proven impossible. He had also anticipated being pumped full of the strongest medication creds could buy; instead, he had received meds that didn't seem to help. His doctors told him that they couldn't give him anything too strong because of his allergies...Colt wasn't allergic to anything.
The door to his room opened and Hackett stepped through. "I've got a specialist in here to see you. He's going to figure out a combination of pain medications that you aren't allergic to."
A major stepped in after the Admiral. Shepard struggled to salute his superior through the stiffness locking up his arm.
"Lieutenant Commander," the older Alliance officer held out his hand. Shepard tried to handshake as best he could through his discomfort. Colt had been with his affectionate crew for so long that if felt weird to be treated with the icy politeness that most relationships in the Alliance ran on. He had changed from his Alliance officer persona to his politicking one years ago, making the doctor's unfriendly introduction a foreign thing. "My name is Doctor Reed. I'm here to make sure you get pain relief without the possibility of a relapse. Your medical records indicate that you've had two relapses since your initial bout with Red Sand. Once when you were twenty three and once when you were twenty six. Is this correct information?" The Doctor was looking at him very seriously. Colt looked at Hackett for confirmation that this guy could be trusted. The Admiral gave a tiny nod.
"That is correct," Shepard was almost convinced that he didn't need any pain relief. He didn't want to tell a complete stranger things he had not even told Liara.
"That means that you're at high risk for another relapse. This kind of injury will, unfortunately, require medication that has addictive properties. I will prescribe medicines that are less addictive than others. Determinol, the anti-addiction drug, combined with them should stop a relapse event. However, things you previously had no problem with could be potential triggers. You'll have to be ten times more careful than you usually are. You have got to avoid any possible triggers or you'll go backwards. As another countermeasure, I'm preventing you from getting unlimited access to the prescription meds," the Doctor turned his gaze from Colt and looked at his data pad for a few seconds, "Doctor Chakwas will be the one storing the prescriptions and giving them to you at the necessary times. The only one I'm allowing you to have free access to is Determinol. I also want you to call me every week to talk about your progress."
Colt wasn't sure what he was supposed to say, so he nodded. He tried to look aghast at the thought of him ever going back to his weakest states, but the Reaper War was smashing through his carefully constructed wall of self-control.
"I'll give you a dose now along with some sedatives to help you sleep. You'll be okay Commander," Doctor Reed said. After a few seconds Shepard could feel the pain radiating from his leg start to lessen. A torrent of peace came crashing through his hospital room and carried him to a far better place.
Admiral Hackett's face was the last thing he saw before sleep drowned him.
...
Colt woke up feeling more tired than ever before. Hoping that the vid screen would provide him with a sense of companionship, he searched for the remote and clicked the screen on.
Immediately Shepard's ears picked up something he wished they hadn't. A reporter for ANN spoke, "Commander Shepard of the Human Systems Alliance, and Spectres was amongst those caught in the explosion. He was taken to Huerta Memorial Hospital on the Citadel where his condition was labeled as critical. About seven hours into his stay, his condition was updated to serious, and then a few hours after it went to good. The staff tells us that he's fully conscience now. Admiral Obitus, commander of Citadel Security, died at the scene," Shepard quivered at the news. Obitus had been right next to him. "Lead engineers Hudson Simmons, Louise Diaz, Abana T'Ugari, and Celsa Pera were also killed on the scene. The total death count from the Citadel Explosion comes to twenty-seven." Then the worst part came-the pictures. Cases of equipment were strewn around the explosion site. Puddles of blood where someone had died or at least been seriously injured spattered the ground. Blue, red, and green blood mingled on the previously white, polished floor. He had been there, and his own blood had been spilled on that floor. Shepard remembered the day he found out blood was sticky, and felt a strong urge to vomit.
He grabbed a near-by trash can, and evacuated his stomach's contents into the container. The pictures were all too close, and much too real. Their presence invited back previous disturbing images that had tattooed themselves into his mind.
"Ready for your new leg, Commander?" A different doctor walked in carrying a robotic leg. Colt switched the screen off, wiped his mouth, put down the trashcan, and tried to act normal. "Originally, we were going to grow a new limb for you. But there's several problems with that. The first and foremost being that your other leg is almost entirely cybernetic and an organic leg wouldn't be able to keep up with it. We also thought it would be useful if your leg was interchangeable."
"Awesome," Shepard nodded approvingly. His vocabulary had suffered a bit since he had received pain medicine.
"These legs are also really easy to put on and take off," the doctor proved her point by putting the leg's cuff around his nub and pressing a button. The sides collapsed around his thigh, fitting comfortably around the amputation site. Pieces of long clear tubing started to glow green, making him think about the holidays back on Earth.
"Now that was cool...I can't feel anything," Colt said. Nothing happened when he tried to wiggle his toes.
"There's the downside. It will take you some time to adjust, so the leg won't be fully functioning for a week," the doctor had the decency to sound sorry, "So you can use crutches in the meantime. Your scans show that everything else internally has healed. So, we've decided to discharge you. No rigorous activity for the next three days, just to be sure."
His previous stays at hospitals had never been shorter than a week and a half. He had been at Huerta for three days with the worst injuries he had ever received. Colt was unsure if his short stay was because of how effective his cybernetics were, the hospital needing his room, or if the galaxy was decaying too quickly without his constant interventions.
Shepard said, "Thank you, Doctor. I can't even begin to explain how grateful I am. If there's anything I can do for Huerta, give me a call. Now is there any other kind of restrictions or…" Then a thought exploded into his brain so violently that his happy trembling came to a halt, and dread started to pound in his veins. He felt like he was going to hurl again. "Where's Thane… I mean the drell?"
She hesitated for a second, "Well he's in the ICU right now. The doctors were able to repair a lot of the trauma he received from the explosion. But is in the final stages of Kepral's Syndrome. At its worst, Kepral's Syndrome interferes with his blood's ability to carry oxygen and he's lost a lot. We've given him transfusions, but there is a very limited supply of drell blood." Why hadn't he thought of Thane earlier? He hadn't considered Thane since discovering that piece of metal lodged in his friend's chest. That could've been days ago. Why was Shepard such a shitty friend?
He wouldn't let his friend slip away so easily. "I-ah-can go, and get more! Give me his blood type!" Colt grabbed the crutches the doctor had set by his bed and pulled himself up. Shepard charged awkwardly for the door. He would save Thane.
"That won't work. There's only one drell on the Citadel with the same blood type and he's in with him. We did all we could to help him through surgery, but his body can't replace lost blood with new cells. Too much shock. Kolyat is saying his goodbyes," she said with a good amount of sorrow.
"Which room, Doctor?" Shepard was going as fast as he could towards his room's door. Silence. "Which room?!" Colt cried.
"A117," she said. Shepard was already going out the door before she finished talking. He dragged his useless leg behind him, desperately searching for A117. Shepard managed to awkwardly trot into the middle of Huerta's main hallway. His eyes searched the walls, trying to find the right numbers.
"Sir, are you supposed to be out of your room?" A nurse touched his shoulder gently. Her face was blurry and Colt barely registered her presence. Time was too crucial to waste it chatting.
"Where's A117?" Colt said frantically. He was turning in a circle, trying to locate numbers. Doctors and nurses swept past him, their features indistinguishable and unimportant. Voices floated through the air, but did not quite reach his ears.
"Over there," she pointed to a room that looked exactly like his. He almost fell over from trying to gallop to Thane's room. Colt pushed past people and ignored their protests. After a trip that seemed to take hours, Shepard burst into the room.
"Commander Shepard," Kolyat turned around. The room was unruffled and sleepy. "My father mentioned you were caught in the same explosion," he looked suggestively at Shepard's silver and green leg. "I don't know if you remember me. I'm Kolyat Krios."
"Of course I remember you. How could I forget such a distinct voice?" Shepard wasn't looking at Kolyat. He was about to ask how Kolyat was, but refrained when he realized he didn't care. Thane lay in a white hospital bed, bandages covering most of his skin. His hands were folded over his stomach, and he appeared to be comfortable.
"Thanks. I came here to give blood and well...He asked me to take his oxygen mask off," Kolyat said. The medical buzzers went off in Colt's head. If the drell was dying of a disease that deprived his body of oxygen then maybe he should be getting extra oxygen.
"What? Well put it back on!" Colt had some training in the medical field, so maybe he could get the mask back on. It was insanity to keep it off. Shepard teetered to the mask and machine supplying the oxygen.
He felt a hand on his shoulder pull him away. Kolyat said, "It's too late. Taking the mask off made him comfortable. It won't be too long now."
"How could you say that? There's always something we can do," Shepard started his desperate scramble for the mask again.
"Not this time, Commander," Kolyat's voice cracked. Colt pulled back from the machines. Kolyat's and the doctor's insistence that nothing could be done began the horrible process of wanted to get away. He felt trapped in the small room. Getting out sprang onto the top of his To-Do list. But he never did anything he wanted; only things he had to. Shepard had to stay with Thane until the end.
"If you don't mind, I'd like to stay with him," Shepard murmured. It was his duty to stay with his friends through thick and thin. They'd hopefully do the same for him.
"Of course," Kolyat bowed his head before turning around to his father. The young drell was far more composed than Shepard was. Why anyone thought to bring their twisted mess of a Commander to these intensely important and private affairs was beyond him.
Colt shuffled next to Thane's bed. The drell said, "Commander, I'm afraid I won't be joining you again."
"You don't need to, buddy. You've done more than enough," Shepard said as gently as he could. Sadly, that was really the best line he could come up with. His narrowing world of grief didn't allow much room for thought-provoking words.
"That assassin should be embarrassed. A terminally ill drell stopping him from reaching his target is disgraceful," Thane said between coughing. Then Colt remembered the Cerberus assassin. Kai Leng was a dead man before, but now Shepard would make it slow.
"Kai Leng had no idea he was up against the greatest assassin the galaxy has ever seen," Shepard felt heat behind his eyes. A concoction of fury and sorrow over Thane took up residence in his stomach right next to his guilt over Mordin's death. Misery did love company.
"There's something that must happen before I go," Thane started a coughing fit. Kolyat bowed his head, so Colt did the same. "Kalahira, mistress of inscrutable depths. I ask for forgiveness. Kalahira, whose waves wear down stone and sand." He started coughing again. Perhaps the oxygen mask would help. Shepard made another move for it, but the look on Kolyat's face stopped him from proceeding.
Kolyat took up the prayer, "Kalahira, wash the sins from this one and set him on the shore of the Infinite Spirit." Why did he have to come to this? He should've stayed in his room in the interest of self-preservation.
Thane said, "Kolyat, you speak like the priests. You have been spending time with them?" Another prime example of something that should've been said without Shepard awkwardly hanging around.
The other drell nodded before walking to stand by Colt's side, "I brought a prayer book. Commander, would you care to join me?" Shepard really didn't have any experience with this type of thing, but he would've flown across the Citadel if it even had a chance of making Thane's passing easier.
"Of course."
Kolyat started off, "Kalahira, this one's heart is pure, but beset by wickedness and rage." Shepard didn't think Thane was an angry person.
"Kalahira, take this one to the place where the traveler never tires, the lover never leaves, the hungry never starve. Guide this one Kalahira, for he will be a companion to you as he was to me," Colt murmured. He closed the book lightly and monitored his friend's breathing. Thane watched the two for a moment before adjusting his position. Shepard expected the drell's chest to rise again. It didn't.
Shepard waited for a long time. He shuffled around on his crutches, and glanced at Kolyat. The young drell had a vacant stare. Thane still hadn't taken a breathe. So he kept waiting, and kept expecting. As time went one, he went from expecting normal functions to hoping for a miracle. Perhaps he's earned some luck during his travels. Minutes passing by made it clear that he retained the same luck that plagued him as a teenager.
"Kolyat, why did he pray for salvation if he was a hero in the end?" Shepard wasn't even trying to hold his tears back. Kolyat put out a hand towards his father, pulled it back for a hesitant second, and then reached down again. He closed Thane's eyelids before facing Shepard.
"The prayer was not for him, Commander. He already prayed for forgiveness. His wish was for you," he said. If Colt could ever point to a place in his life where he knew he was a bad person, it would've been in that small hospital room.
"See you in a little Thane," he said. Shepard was convinced that if people as pure as Thane could die, he would go easily.
The drell assassin was so much like Rowan, it was insane. They were both so much wiser and well intentioned than Shepard could ever hope to be.
...
Liara had thought that going to see Aethyta after being shooed out of Shepard's room was a good idea. The jury was still out about her decision. On one hand Aethyta had tried to be comforting; on the other hand Aethyta had tried to be comforting.
"Shepard died once Liara, and all it did was piss him off. I'm sure losing a minor extremity won't change anything," Aethyta wiped off the splintered counter without making eye contact. She would spray the counter with disinfectant every few minutes. Was she a germaphobe or just bored? Perhaps she thought she could scrub the scorch marks out.
A ping from Liara's omni-tool took her attention away from her father. It was from Feron explaining how he could no longer field the Shadow Broker responsibilities by himself. She had taken two days off to sort herself out, and be free from distractions if Colt needed her. Her 'vacation' was officially over. War did not recognize fatigue or personal feelings, so neither would she.
"Do you like your job, kid?" Aethyta was still scrubbing her counter. This time she was trying to clean the cracks that ran through the stone countertop, but she wasn't very successful at all. In fact the likely poisonous cleaner was just pooling in them. Liara thought she saw the cracks getting wider.
"What?" Confusion flashed through her mind. She was still thinking about her return to information brokering.
"You were making a face. Do you like your job?" Her father asked. She stopped cleaning the bar, and looked Liara straight in the eyes.
Liara lied. She lied a lot. She didn't use to, but now she did. Something stopped her this time. She didn't know whether it was Aethyta or the need to say something true after listening to lie after lie in Shepard's hospital room.
Liara had been asked this question a thousand times. Each time her answer was a confident, completely false yes. "No, I hate every minute of it," she admitted.
"Then why do you do it? Get Feron or someone else to do it," Aethyta was just starting to gain steam and would've ranted longer if Liara had not interrupted.
"I do it for him," she said quietly.
"You don't owe him anything, Liara. What the hell has Shepard done for you anyways? Besides causing heartache, and pissing you off," Aethyta slapped her rag down harshly, observing her daughter with an exasperated expression.
"You have no idea what he's done for me," the younger asari snarled. She was already done with this conversation. About five hundred percent done.
Aethyta persisted, "He's trouble, girl. I like Shepard, he's fucking hilarious, but that's beside the point. What do you think people like Shepard do? They fight and they die, there is no in between."
"Stop...just stop," the doctor put her hand on her forehead. The headache that had hung over her for days was rearing its ugly head.
Aethyta ducked her head and looked under Liara's hand, "Do you think you can live happily ever after with him? Cuz' I'm starting to think that that's exactly what you think is gonna happen. At first I thought it was just some casual thing. Shepard is a fine piece of man-meat, so I couldn't blame you. But now it's kinda obvious now that you weren't thinking too casually about it. Don't you understand? He will come back dead or he will still be fighting. Surviving this damned war will be the easy part. Shepard won't be normal, Liara. Hell, he isn't normal now. He can't just go from super-soldier to Dad of the Year."
"I don't think you're in any position to judge who can be Dad of the Year," Liara shot back. She probably should've regretted her words.
"True, but I've been around for a long time. I've met people like him, and it all ends the same," Aethyta said.
"You don't know Colt," Liara uttered. Then she realized she didn't have to stay. Sitting and listening to her father wasn't mandatory. So she got up and left. Aethyta called her name the whole time she was walking through the Presidium Commons.
...
"Shepard!" Liara trotted gleefully to his side, with a few bags in her hand. He turned his head to watch the war-mangled Citadel far below his window go on as if Cerberus had not attacked, Shepard had not gotten hurt, and Thane had not died. Life for people on the Citadel had gone on as if Shepard's world had not been falling to pieces. It was simply not fair. "I got you some-," she stopped talking, making Colt wonder if she was actually there.
His mouth and throat were dry like he had never seen a drop of water. "Do you think I would've been different if I was born in another time?" He asked her, and then almost to himself, "What would life without the Alliance be like?"
"I think we would've happened," the creak of a chair followed her comment. Then he felt a hand on his cheek gently pull his attention away from the window. Hopeful blue met dull green. Her eyes stayed bright for a second before his own feelings seemed to pollute the light shining from her. This was perhaps the worst crime he had ever committed.
"You don't think some Krogan mercenary would've swept you off your feet? Or someone like Garrus?" Colt tried to reconcile with humor.
"No, they're not interesting enough," she kept her hand on his cheek. He leaned into her touch, and closed his eyes. For a moment it felt like everything would be okay.
Shepard considered his turian friend's eventful past, while opening his eyes again, "Garrus once killed three men with one bullet."
Her mouth twitched like she wanted to smile, "He killed two people with one bullet and the other had a heart attack."
"That lying sonofabitch," Shepard now had something to annoy Garrus with. The day got a little better.
"Point is that we would've found each other. And you would've been great at anything you did, Colt. The galaxy is extremely lucky to have you, and it would have been lucky if you had been born earlier or later," Liara's words had given him immeasurable solace, but her tone worked wonders. Knowing someone else believed in him unconditionally was priceless.
"Do you mean that?" He knew the answer.
She barely nodded before he leaned over to hug her. Words would just simply fall flat if he tried to explain how grateful he was. He buried his face in her shoulder, while his arms circled her back. Liara always smelled like lavender, with just a hint of vanilla. It was amazing how she could transform a simple scent like lavender into all that was good in the galaxy.
"Do you regret joining up?" She whispered into his ear.
"On days like this?" Shepard extracted himself from the hug, and looked at the disfigured skin on his arm, "Well it feels like the worst decision I've ever made."
"Let's have dinner, it'll make you feel better," Liara took his hand. She flipped it over and started tracing all the lines. Both of his hands were surprisingly soft, and free of imperfections. The only exception being the burned tissue that had affected a small portion on the back of his right hand. Cerberus… Miranda had done an impeccable job.
"Go ahead. I-ah-think I'll stay here for a bit," Shepard shifted on his hospital bed a little. The doctor told him he could stay in the room for a few more hours. He was going to take advantage of that offer.
"It'll help. Our friends will all be there," Liara tightened her grip on his hand.
"I'm staying here," Colt set his jaw.
"You can't just simmer in here. Let's go," Liara pulled at his arm, but he stayed in place.
"I don't feel well, Liara. I can't go. I'll throw up," Colt stared out the window. People were still going on business as usual. He hated the Citadel for its complete disregard for his troubles.
"Come. For me," Liara set her hand on his cheek.
"Okay," Shepard started to stand.
...
They were at a restaurant far too nice for his liking. There was no swearing, no inappropriate jokes, no discussions on tactics, no obnoxious laughing or chatting, and especially no fun. Basically Shepard's whole personality had to be left at the door.
He didn't know if he trusted himself enough to say anything in such...a fine establishment; especially not after experiencing the events in Huerta. It was difficult to say anything when his entire crew didn't know, and couldn't know, what he felt. At this point, words would betray him. To solve that little debacle he decided on just not saying anything. Besides, his silence would probably be a welcome relief to his buddies.
"Commander," Traynor's voice brought him out of his miserable fog. Shepard would've preferred to sulk and eat the entire evening.
"Hmm?" Colt hummed pleasantly. Getting back into his solid, reassuring form was something he had practiced until he could do it at the drop of a pin.
Traynor grinned at him, "Shepard, why did you join the Alliance? You don't seem like the type of person who'd really like it."
"The food," he said. It really wasn't that far from the truth. "But in reality the reasons for my enlistment are neither inspiring nor noteworthy. How about I tell you why I stay in instead?"
"Might as well," Traynor shrugged, and watched him with sort of a philosophical interest. The rest of the table too. He made a note to talk about himself more if it garnered this much attention.
"I stay because of the people," Shepard had never said something so easily. He only had to look around the table to confirm his belief.
"But don't you see the worst of the worst?" James was shaking his head slightly. Probably trying to wrap around his head that Colt could be serious, or the fact that his indestructible Commander had feelings.
"I do, but I also get to kill 'em. Plus I get to meet the best," he looked at Liara, "So I guess things kinda balance themselves out."
Garrus looked like he was having an epiphany of his own. Poor sweet, sweet Gar Bear. Chakwas was grinning to herself like she knew what he was gonna say all along. Traynor was nodding thoughtfully. Cortez seemed like he was analyzing every inch of Colt's face, trying to see if there was anything but sincerity hiding there. James looked like he was going to be sick. Was it the great amounts of alcohol he had ingested or Shepard's little speech? The world would probably never know. Joker was staring at EDI's chest; apparently Shepard's words had not reached the pilot's ears. Javik looked mopey. Donnelly and Daniels had resumed eating. Liara was looking down and blushing, something that was becoming less rare with each day. EDI, however, looked like she got the most out of that.
"I wasn't trying to intimidate you guys; I was just saying the simple truth," Shepard should've just brooded for the evening.
"You kinda do intimidate me, Shepard," Traynor admitted.
"Me?" Colt said incredulously through a mouthful of food. "Hell, I thought I was the nice one. I mean Liara will shred you to pieces with her mind, and then send an asari commando unit after you. Chakwas will guilt trick you into buying Serrice Ice Brandy. Me? I'll just make some joke, and feel bad," Shepard said.
"It's not that. At all. You're like the nicest person I've ever met. In fact, sometimes I forget you're the same person that goes on all those missions. You just remind me of contaminated eezo," Traynor explained.
Shepard blinked before promptly bursting into laughter, "I have no idea what that means, but I'll take it and love it." Liara was right about his friends making him feel better. He shouldn't have been worried about being with them. He should be worried about not having them around.
"Leading on to that, people always talked about how unusual, and human you seem to be. Like 'Commander Shepard is the only celebrity I like' type of thing. The media does a great job at portraying what you're actually like. I-ah-just didn't believe it. I thought it was all act, but now I know it isn't. You are a bit...weirder than I thought you'd be," Cortez contributed.
"At least I don't dress up like a chicken during the night cycle and caw at things that scare me, like some of us," Colt looked pointedly at Garrus.
"That's completely inaccurate...I also do that during the day cycle when the ship is mostly empty," Garrus looked completely serious.
Colt blinked a few times before swinging his head around. "See?" Shepard was about to continue on to another crew member's secret, but Garrus's answer was just too perfect. He regarded Cortez for about two seconds before the giggling began. The humorless expression he had coined up for his ridiculous joke cracked until he was beaming. "That's all folks. There isn't anything I could say tonight that will be funnier," Colt somehow got out while cracking up. He was breaking at least half of this damned restaurant's rules. Spectre status allowed him to be annoying in public.
"Does that mean I win?" Garrus asked.
"Don't be ridiculous. I will always be the funnier one," Shepard shook his head, and hoped that a spotlight would shine down upon him.
"I believe I'm funnier," Joker stuck his head out a bit.
"Mmmhhmm," Shepard pursed his lips together. He snapped at Joker, "Don't flatter yourself, little boy."
"I'll fight you for the title," Joker flexed his arms, and chanced a glance at EDI.
"Please, I'll breathe on you, and break all of your bones," Colt flexed one of his arms, and put Joker's muscles to shame.
"Hurtful," the pilot said. Still, he puffed up his chest.
"You gonna cry, Joker?" The two stared each other down before bursting into laughter. Everyone else just looked with confusion at the pair.
"Soo...how'd you get that serpent on your arm?" James said through a mouth full of food. He heard a slight intake from Liara.
"Some asshole mistook my arm for a canvas, and started carving. He was halfway done before I noticed, but I couldn't just interrupt this masterpiece. I gathered my testosterone, and waited it out. It was dark, so I guess I can forgive him," Shepard was trying admirably to keep a straight face.
"Did that really happen?" James was looking at him with his jaws gaping. Colt could work with his gullibility.
"Of course it did," Shepard said. James looked dumbstruck. "Nope, that definitely didn't happen."
"Sorry, I don't speak sarcasm," James held up his hands in defeat. Then he resumed eating.
"You are mean today, my friend. Plus don't they say sarcasm is the lowest form of wit?" Garrus flared his stupid mandibles.
"At least it's still wit. Anyways, I was trying to spare everyone the real story of what happened," Colt felt his hunger ebb away.
"What actually happened?" Traynor asked. She had that same interested look.
"You probably don't want to know," Shepard rolled up his sleeve more so the twisted serpent would be easier to see.
"Humor us," Garrus said.
"Well, I was new to the whole 'territory' thing when I joined my little gang. I was wandering around with my brother and accidently crossed into someone else's land. We got jumped, but I convinced them to let Alex go. After all he was only four, but they took me since I was nearly sixteen. Pretty sure they wanted to send a message to my people, but I never really asked. Anyways, they took me to this old warehouse and tied me to an old dentist chair… Then they got their resident artist to carve this beauty into my arm. I passed out from blood loss, but this girl, Erin, found me before bad things happened. And that was my introduction into the wonderful world of street life," Shepard used to get really bothered thinking or talking about the serpent. Ever since the start of the Reaper War, he just didn't care. Those problems seemed miniscule to the ones he faced now.
…
Shepard pressed the elevator button and felt that familiar excitement he got whenever he was about to board his ship. However, his excitement was short lived when a figure towards the back of the elevator started to move. He wasn't in very good shape to fight anyone, but he could probably beat the bad guy with his crutches and discouraging words. "Who's there?" He called out while readying his biotics.
"Commander," Ashley stepped out of the shadows. She looked healthy enough, especially compared to him.
"Oh, it's you," Shepard mumbled. Inevitably this conversation had to happen, but Colt was hoping it would come when he was fully recovered. Yelling, and irritability tended to take a lot out of him.
"How's the leg?" She asked suddenly.
"Can't use it very much. Yet. I'll be good to go in less than a week," Shepard shifted his crutches uncomfortably. Awkward silence hung over them as each waited for the other say something, preferably something that didn't skirt around their issues.
"How do you feel?" She said.
"Like shit. They had to cut me open to get all the bits of shrapnel out and I'm feeling a bit sick from that. Ten hours of surgery will do that I guess. Plus having a leg that doesn't function isn't exactly fun... But I'm guessing your not here to listen to all my medical woes," he said. Shepard preferred to dive straight into the issue rather than talk about things neither of them cared about.
"I-I don't know what to say about...about what happened," Ashley stammered out. He didn't care about what she thought. Shepard cared about the fact she was prepared to kill him.
Shepard shrugged his shoulders, "Then don't say anything." He decided to be completely honest with Assley from this point forward.
"I keep going over everything in my head. Trying to make sense of it," she said. Shepard wasn't really interested in trying to solve other people's problems at the moment.
"And what have you decided, Lieutenant Commander?" He chewed his nails. The elevator was certainly taking its time.
"I still haven't decided. I was kinda hoping to hear what you think," Ashley said. To her credit, she actually did look unsure.
"You don't want to know what I think," Colt said.
"I can take it," Ashley tensed her jaw and seemed to prepare herself. The decontamination process started, making it a little harder to hear.
"I think you are insubordinate and reckless. I don't think you ever think situations through. And I don't think you have a sliver of loyalty to anyone. You're someone I would dread having under my command," he answered. He noticed some dirt under one of his finger nails and set upon cleaning them.
"W-Why?" Ashley looked like someone had just punched her in her stupid face.
"First off, you don't trust me. You still think I'm Cerberus's puppet, and probably always will. I don't need anyone on my team that will hesitate to save me. Second, I don't trust you. I really don't take a liking to people who seriously consider shooting me. Third, you don't fucking listen. Fourth, you almost shot me. Fifth, you annoy the hell out of me. 'Shepard, how is Cerberus doing? I hear you're still on the Illusive Man's mailing list,' gets pretty old. Sixth...need I go on?" Shepard usually tried to be diplomatic and nice in these situations. But Ashley really fucking annoyed him.
"I like you Ashley, I do. Even after all of that, I would still consider us friends. But I don't want you under my command," Shepard said. The decontamination process ended and the doors opened into Colt's ship. Crew members walked by, and nodded at them.
He swung his crutches forward and started to hobble into the CIC; she followed. "Admiral Hackett asked me to join his team. I-ah-was hoping to ride out the storm on the Normandy...But you've made it clear that isn't going to happen," Ashley said softly.
He grunted in agreement.
"For what it's worth, you're still the best commanding officer I've had. Give 'em hell, Shepard," she looked him over sadly before heading towards the elevator. At least she probably wouldn't die on Hackett's team.
"Colt," Liara walked up and gave him a peck on the cheek, "How goes it?" She smelled like lavender.
He gestured to Ashley walking away. The Lieutenant Commander had her head down.
"How'd it go?" She asked tentatively. How did Shepard always end up feeling bad about things that had to be done?
"I told her she wasn't welcome on the Normandy," Shepard sighed. Guilt started to form a knot in his stomach.
"Colt," Liara gave him a disapproving look.
"How can I trust her after the incident? I mean…" he trailed off when he saw her face. She looked so disappointed. He didn't want to let her down.
"Ashley, come back here," he called. Shepard gave Liara a look that said, 'I hope you know what you're doing.'
"Commander?" Ash came back and looked at him with dejected eyes. It made him feel horrible about the things(true things) he had said to her.
"The Starboard Observation Deck is open," Colt mumbled. He scratched the back on his neck nervously.
Ash's whole face lit up and she lunged at Shepard with her arms wide open. Colt staggered back slightly as he was engulfed by a bear hug. "Thank you Shepard! You won't regret this!" She exclaimed, then she grabbed her bags and raced to the elevator.
"Hey Ash!" He called after a few seconds. She turned from the elevator. "Think about what happened, and learn from it. Because I've concluded that I'm not the one who has changed, Lieutenant Commander." Her eyes darkened before she went into the elevator.
Liara was looking at him with a smug expression, probably realizing how much influence she had with him. "I hope you're happy," he said. Truth be told, he did feel a little better.
"Oh, I am," she smiled, "Let's go to bed."
"Alright, come on," Shepard shuffled to the elevator. Once they were alone, he said, "It's been a really shitty day. I think I'll be recovering from it for a few weeks." More like the rest of his life.
"Things will get better," Liara reassured him, and patted his back. The elevator opened to the Commander Cave.
"Will they?" He looked her in the eyes for a moment before he went into his cabin. "Where's Rosebud?"
"Traynor asked if she could look after her for a little. I said yes. I'm sorry," Liara gave him a hug. It was pretty awkward considering she had to snake her hands between his crutches.
"It's fine," he sighed. "It's just...ughh." He was still too shocked by it all to cry. Shepard scooted away from her and headed for his bed.
"Do you want to talk?" Liara asked. They sat next to each other on the bed.
"Let's talk tomorrow. I'm so damn tired," Colt scooted backwards and settled on his side. He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.
...
"Commander, Admiral Anderson wishes to speak to you. He said it was urgent," EDI's voice startled Shepard awake.
"Mmmkay, tell him I'll be down there in a few minutes," Shepard's tired voice sounded foreign even to himself. It was unusually deep and slurred. Colt rolled onto his back and stared at the stars shining above him. The window above his bed should've been a blessing, but it actually served as a reminder. "Liara?" Colt asked tentatively.
When there was no reply, Shepard patted the right side of the bed. His hand touched cold sheets and empty space. She must've left hours ago. He already missed her. Colt let everything go limp, sighed, and just lay there. After a while, he checked the time on his omni-tool. Two in the fucking morning. Anderson had better be in some deep shit.
Colt sat up and grabbed his crutches beside the bed. He grabbed his bad leg and moved it so he sat on the edge of the bed. Shepard hoped the doctors weren't wrong about him gaining full functionality in a few days. Getting out of his sleepwear into something that wasn't covered in cartoon varrens would prove to be difficult without Liara helping. So he decided that Anderson would be fine if he showed up in pajamas. It's not like he was going to speak with the Queen of England.
...
"You've got to be kidding me," Anderson said as soon as Colt entered the comm. room.
"What? It's two o'clock on the Normandy, Anderson. What you expect me to dress up every time your ugly face appears? It's not easy changing with my bad leg, you know. I'm fine, by the way." Shepard admitted that wearing varren pajamas may have been unconventional, but he was not changing into his dress blues just to appease the great Admiral.
"Determinol Shepard?" Anderson almost growled his words. Colt took an alarmed step back, and wondered how'd pull himself out of this.
"Look, it's just a precaution in case I feel the need," Shepard lied. He said it too quickly.
"You're lying!" Anderson yelled. His fists were clenched, and he was leaning forward.
Shepard folded his hands over his chest and prepared himself for the screaming, "No, I'm no-"
"Cut the bullshit. Right. Now," Anderson was seething, "I'll put you through it again, Colt. As many times as it takes you to get clean. I will personally get a ship and fly to your sorry ass. I will take you there myself in front of your entire crew."
"Sure," Shepard rolled his eyes. They both knew Anderson could not leave Earth.
"Why do you do this? Hmmm? You have a lot going for you. Fame, your friends, Liara. Don't you ruin those things," Anderson said. The Admiral's entire frame shook.
"I guess I can't take too much of a good thing," Colt said sarcastically. It was always wonderful when a perfect day ended with a nice, casual conversation with Anderson.
"Yeah, no shit. Don't be selfish. This time it's not just yourself you'll drag down. It's everyone, Colt. Everyone," the Admiral enunciated every word. The weight on Shepard's shoulders doubled. He didn't wanna go down this path again, but no one had signed up as his lifeguard.
"Just find someone else then, Admiral. It's not like I have a monopoly on saving the universe," Shepard said. Please let them find someone else.
"STOP! Just stop. Pull your head out of your ass, and look around. There is no one else. They're all dead, so we have to settle on you. Don't screw over the entire galaxy just because you couldn't control your addiction," Anderson's body trembled with outrage.
"It's not like I can control it, sir," Colt rumbled.
"You have to give everything you've got and more. The Reapers can't be defeated if you don't. How can you do that if you fall backwards?" Anderson wasn't getting any less angry.
"I'm not gonna relapse. The Determinol will stop that from happening," Shepard tried to calm himself. He had said enough wrong things for the day.
"I hope you never marry that nice Liara girl. You'll screw up her life, no doubt," Anderson's words struck low, and hard. The truth burned like a bitch. Few sentences in his life had ever made Shepard want to cry. This was one.
Colt could feel the heat behind his eyes. He somehow stopped the flow of tears, but not before one or two escaped. "Jesus, Colt. I-I can't believe I said that," Anderson sounded horrified.
"Yeah? Well, it's out now," Shepard walked up to the button to turn off Anderson's holograph.
"Col-" Anderson called out before his image flickered out.