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The Normandy was hurtling through space on its way to look for a missing scientist. Shepard had the charts in front of her, and she was supposed to be working with EDI to try to triangulate which planet the scientist's search for artifacts was most likely to have taken him to, but the charts lay unregarded in front of her. All she could think of was Thane back on the Citadel. Thane, dying alone, far from her, while the cares of the galaxy took her away from him again and again and again. And what was it for? Could she ever defeat the Reapers, even if by some miracle she finally got the help she needed, or was civilization as doomed today as it had been in Javik's cycle?

It was a relief when the door chimed. "Enter," she called, surprised to see Dr. Chakwas hovering there in the doorway.

"I thought it might be time for another bottle of Serrice Ice Brandy."

Shepard smiled. "Didn't we agree that would be a yearly thing?"

"Under the circumstances, waiting another year seemed like a very long time."

Both of them left unspoken the very real possibility that one or both of them wouldn't be here in a year's time, and that Serrice Ice Brandy would be only one of the many things that would become nothing but a memory.

"Good thinking, Doctor." Shepard gestured for her to come in and went hunting for glasses. Dr. Chakwas poured a healthy amount in each, and they toasted each other.

"To the Normandy."

"To the Alliance."

"To Earth."

"To the Citadel, and those we left behind on her."

Shepard drank to the toast, feeling the icy burn of the brandy all the way down. She found the doctor's eyes on her.

"Are you all right, Commander?"

"I'm fine. Really." Shepard poured a refill.

"Because I have to imagine that it is increasingly difficult to leave."

Shepard swallowed against the sudden lump in her throat. "It is. For more reasons than one."

"Thane is fading, so I understand." At Shepard's surprised look, the doctor explained, "I do check in on him when I'm there. He was my crewmate, as well."

"I see. Of course you do. Thank you. Yes, every time I'm there he seems to have lost more … vitality. He's not even fighting it any longer, just … letting it happen."

"That must be particularly hard for you to watch—you, who have never stopped fighting even for a moment."

"I … try not to be hard on him," Shepard admitted, looking down into the depths of the liquid in her glass. "I've never had a terminal illness, I don't want to be too hard on him, but I can't help—"

"Hurting?"

"Yes."

"Commander Shepard, who has never met a fight she couldn't win."

"Something like that," Shepard agreeed. "Only the Reapers seem bent on showing me a few more. Earth, for one."

"You're still fighting for Earth. She's not terminal. Not yet."

"Maybe not."

"And Kaidan? How is he?"

"Surely you check in on him as well."

"I do, but you've spoken to him more than I have. Will he take the role as the next Spectre?"

"He already has. It's a good opportunity for him. Still." Shepard smiled. "I admit I had hoped he would come back to the Normandy."

"With Wrex on board, all we would be missing then would be Tali, and we'd have a full complement from the original Normandy."

"Mostly," Shepard amended, thinking of Ashley and Pressly and all those lost when the original Normandy was destroyed.

"Mostly," Dr. Chakwas echoed. She raised her glass again. "To those we've lost. May we live up to their example, may we honor their memory, and may it be quite some time before we join them."

"I'll drink to that."

Shepard did so, the brandy smoother and warmer now—or perhaps she was just getting drunker, she thought with some amusement. "Earlier, you said we were drinking to those we had left behind on the Citadel. Is there someone special waiting there for you?"

To her surprise, the doctor blushed. "Possibly. I … would like the chance to find out, at least. Someone I have been friends with for many years suddenly seems—dear to me."

"And are you dear to that someone in return?"

"It seems as though I may be. It's strange," the doctor mused, "after all these years getting on a ship with no ties and nothing left behind, to suddenly feel chained to someone left behind. Anchored. As though part of you is no longer your own, but is in another's keeping. It made me think of you and Thane and what that must be like for both of you."

"We knew it was coming."

"I wonder if that makes it more difficult, rather than less. To have anticipated the pain of being apart and then to live through it."

"You may be right, Doctor."

Dr. Chakwas smiled. "I so often am." She got to her feet, somewhat unsteadily. "Now I have to go inspect medbay and make certain Mordin knows he's only borrowing it, not taking over permanently."

"How is it, sharing the space with him?"

"Fascinating to watch him work, frustrating to have to move my work to make room for his—and I've had Gilbert and Sullivan stuck in my head for days."

Shepard chuckled. "Truly a cruel and unusual punishment."

"I'll survive it. And so will you," Dr. Chakwas added, grasping Shepard's hand. "Whatever is to come, you will."

"Thank you, Doctor. I hope so."

"Just don't forget you have a crew here to support you."

"I'll try not to."

The door closed behind the doctor, leaving Shepard alone with half a bottle of brandy. She looked at it, and then at her charts, and poured herself another glass. Tomorrow was soon enough to get some work done.