Shepard

They sat in their bathtub, hot water washing down over them from the shower. They drew their legs up, wrapping their arms around their knees. Such strange legs, not right at all. They were far too short, too pale, with too little hair, and the feet seemed so small. How did they walk around on such tiny feet and not just fall over?

"I'm just saying, the more you act like a lunatic, the longer Anderson's going to keep us here," Jane said, and they wished she'd shut up.

Talk, talk, talk. It's all Jane ever did. Why couldn't she just be quiet and let them think? She was jealous of them because they lived outside and she stayed stuck inside. She couldn't get out unless they said so. She hated them because they had control. For countless years, she was in charge, she held the power, but not anymore.

"I'm so not jealous." Jane snorted, leaving them with the impression of her shaking her head. "Though, I guess some of the others in here are."

"We need to get off the Citadel," they thought. "We have to get away before it finds us."

"No kidding." Sarcasm filled Jane's voice, spiking their ire. "So pull your shit together, and stop throwing temper tantrums like a five-year-old."

A knock at the door startled them, bringing their biotics flaring to life, and for a second, they didn't know where they were at. Then, they remembered they were on the Citadel, in the Pearson Sisters' Sanctuary. "What?"

"Lola? You've been in there for almost an hour." James. The voice belonged to James, and they trusted James. "You plan on coming out any time soon?"

They didn't like being called Lola. Why did he call them Lola? "You're supposed to call us Loco."

"It's Loco now?" James asked.

"Yes," they said, shifting around in the tub to reach the knobs. They turned the water off and pushed themselves up to their feet. "We're coming."

"Okay." His footsteps retreated from the door, and then came closer again. "Hey, Loco, don't forget to put a shirt on this time."

"We won't." They stepped out of the tub, pulling the towel down off the rack and dried themselves off.

They looked in the mirror, shying away from the black-haired, violet-eyed woman staring back at them. They knew her face, knew it was her body they were inside, but it felt like their body, only all wrong. Their whole body seemed completely wrong, but some of them found it interesting. They ran their hands down over their chest, ignoring the protests of some as they cupped the tits they found there. It felt nice, but why did they have tits? They didn't have tits, Dawn did. Their bodies died. Probably already rotted away somewhere. Their minds lived in Dawn's body. Dawn had a nice body.

Jane huffed. "Dear God."

They squeezed a little, brushing their thumbs over their nipples, and a shock of heat and need rushed through them. Arousal, humor, shame, disgust, anger, delight, curiosity. They started to dip their hand lower, wanting to explore the most interesting sensation down below, foreign yet completely familiar. Jesus Christ, where the hell did their cock go? They had a pussy now, too? They slid their hand down over their stomach, reaching for the patch of hair between their legs. Rebuke, anger. They jerked their hand away, a growl ripping through their throat. Scowling, they picked up the bra laying on the counter, wrapping it around themselves and snapping it closed with expert fingers. Pulling the straps up, they shoved their arms through and tugged it into place.

They didn't know if they were real, if James was real. They died, they knew they did; choking to death on their own blood, laid out in the wreckage of the Citadel, with their implants short-circuiting, sending out bolts of lightning through their head. Sitting down on the couch next to him, they pulled their legs under themselves and turned to face him. He glanced at them, wariness creeping in around the edges of his eyes, but he smiled. He always smiled. They reached out, tracing the still healing wound on his forehead, and he winced but didn't pull away. They did it to him, hurt James, they remembered.

"We didn't mean to," they whispered, sadness washing over them, warring with indifference.

He reached up, wrapping his hand around theirs, folding their fingers inside of his. "I know, Loco. I know."

He squeezed their hand, letting them keep a hold of him for the time being. They liked it when he let them keep contact with him. He felt real, and if he was real, maybe it meant they were, too.

They tugged his hand over to their lap and covered it with their other one, ignoring the twitch of his fingers. "James, we need to leave the Citadel."

He parted his lips, tilting his head a little as he looked at them. "Loco … we've talked about this, remember? Anderson's the only one who has the authority to let you leave."

"We remember." They didn't like to be called Loco, but they didn't correct him, it wasn't important. "Then tell Anderson."

He frowned, his brow furrowing. "Anderson knows … but he thinks you need to stay here a while longer."

They huffed, irritation tightening their shoulder muscles. "But we need to go."

"Shepard, we can't." James shook his head, lips tugging down at the corners. "I can't just take you out of here. I'm sorry."

Biotics burst to life over their skin, and James jerked his hand back, scrambling away to push himself to his feet. The muscles along his chest and arms rippled, face looking cut from stone. They knew he was getting ready to have to defend himself against them, and it only made them feel more helpless. James shouldn't feel threatened, not by them, but it wasn't like they didn't give him a good reason.

"Don't!" Jane screamed so loud it made them cringe. "Don't do this. It's not James' fault."

But they weren't trying to do anything, they just felt angry, and sometimes it just happened. They tried to push the energy away, tried to calm down so the biotics might dissipate on their own, but it just didn't work. Nothing ever worked anymore. Growling in frustration, they reached their mind out and jerked Jane's chain, pulling her out while they slipped inside.

They didn't even have to think about it anymore, all they needed to do was touch one of the others, and then the Shepard became one of them. Shepards came to them, gathered around them, pleading to be touched whenever they went inside. Others still cowered in fear, staying to the far corners, silent and still. They heard the prayers, though, the other Shepards hoping they wouldn't take notice. Sometimes they'd lift their hand out and pull a few inside, those who wanted to join them, but most of the time they just sat there, thinking. But maybe if there were more of them, then someone would finally listen and get them off the Citadel. So, they held out their hands, feeling the flow of new consciousnesses joining theirs until it started to burn so badly Jane begged them to stop.

Opening their eyes, they pushed themselves upright, patting James' arm. He'd caught their body when they pulled Jane back inside because someone knocked at the door, and James said he didn't expect any visitors, no one called down from the front desk. Their head hurt, really bad. Flaring with biotics, they moved out of direct line of sight of the door, fighting to shake off a throbbing headache, the hazy feeling, and the scent of burning metal filling their nostrils. They knew it meant they'd forced the implant to work overtime, trying to stabilize their brain activity as they consumed more Shepards, but the feeling always faded eventually.

James frowned at them. "It's alright, Loco. There are guards at the door, yeah?"

They narrowed their eyes at him, for all they knew, the guards were indoctrinated and reporting to the Intelligence. "Yeah," they said, but they didn't let go of the dark energy surrounding their fists.

"You might be right, just try not to lash out until we know for sure, alright?" Jane said, "You should've let me stay out, if something is wrong, I'm better equipped to deal with it, and you know it."

"We can handle it," they said.

James moved to the door, activating the security feed, but they couldn't see the screen past him. "It's Anderson." Opening the door, he stepped aside, letting them see the man standing in the doorway.

"It's Anderson, you can calm down." Jane's voice sounded sugary sweet, almost like a coo, as if they were nothing but children she wanted to soothe, but it only pissed them off. "Drop the biotics before you do something stupid."

They eyed Anderson for a moment, trying to decide if he was real. Anderson's gaze found them, and he smiled, making his way straight for them despite the threat of biotic flames licking over their skin. Coming to a stop in front of them, he reached out and dropped a hand down on their shoulder, giving them a little squeeze. Solid, warm, and real.

"See, Anderson?" Jane said, still with the same obnoxious tone. "Relax."

"How're you doing, kid?" He patted their shoulder before standing at parade rest.

They let their biotics die down, holding his gaze. Determination renewed itself with him right in front of them, they needed to let him know about the Intelligence. "We need to leave the Citadel, Anderson. It's not safe for us here, and we have things we need to do."

"I told you, I passed it on to Thane, and he talked to Garrus." Forced patience and Jane's false smile filled their head. "It's probably why they went to see Grundan Krul. Things are being put into motion, we just have to be patient."

"Stop talking to us like we're children!" they thought loud enough to make Jane flinch.

"Then stop acting like children!" Jane's anger hit like a burning whip, a lash ripping through their head for just a second, making them clench their jaw and press their thumb to their eye.

Anderson sighed, shaking his head. "I'm not sure anywhere is safe for you, Shepard." He glanced over his shoulder at James as the marine moved to sit at the counter, and then he turned his attention back to them. "You're not ready for active duty, and right now, things are calm enough for you to rest and recuperate. I feel better having you on the Citadel where I can keep an eye on you, and you've got Lieutenant Vega and a rotation of Alliance guards stationed outside. I'm sorry, Shepard, but this is the best I can do for you right now."

"You're not listening." They grabbed Anderson's arm, shaking him a little. "It's not safe on the Citadel. For anyone, but especially for us. It can hear us, it's watching us. We know it is."

"Hey, chill. Get your damn hands off of Anderson." Jane huffed, irritation passing through them. "If the Intelligence is monitoring us, if you keep talking about it, you'll definitely draw its attention." She seemed to suck in a deep breath, despite not having use of their lungs, as if trying to calm herself. "Trust in Garrus and Thane to deal with this."

Anderson held his free hand up, stopping James in his tracks when James hopped up, rushing in toward them. "What's watching you?" Anderson's brows drew in, his head turning a fraction of an inch to the side. If their grip on him bothered him, he didn't let it show.

They let out a frustrated growl, all the words tumbling through their mind, too fast, too strong, too many for anything to make it to their lips. Jane fought against them, trying to distract them, force them to keep their mouth shut. They blinked, and then they weren't in their room in The Pearson Sisters' Sanctuary anymore. The Illusive Man stood in front of them, making them shoot Anderson. Reeling back, they shook their head, fighting to force the image from their mind, struggling to reassert themselves on reality.

"Commander." Anderson's voice sounded so far away.

"God, not again. Keep it together."

They sat down next to him on the Citadel. The Illusive Man lay dead not far away. Everything hurt so bad, they felt so weak, losing so much blood. They didn't think they'd last much longer at all. Anderson bled pretty bad, too. They weren't going to make it off the Citadel, but they'd be damned if they let Anderson give up hope for even a second.

Ships exploded in the distance, painting the sky in a flourish of bright white, yellows, and oranges. Good men and women fighting and dying against the reapers. The species united, standing their ground, holding the line for the last push. Earth, larger than life and standing proud in the background, a testament to the sacrifices being made. It was all or nothing. The galaxy's last chance, everything riding on the Crucible.

"We did it," they said, glancing at Anderson. He didn't look good at all.

"Yes, we did." His gaze focused out the window. "It's, uh, quite a view."

They let out a soft chuckle, doubt creeping in around the edges of their conscious. What if the Crucible didn't work after all? "Best seats in the house."

"God. Feels like years since I just sat down." Anderson's words came slower, with a little more pause between each one.

They glanced at him, lips lifting a little in a smile. "I think you earned a rest." They all did. They watched Anderson for a moment, his head starting to list a little, and their heart skipped a beat. "Anderson?"

"No." They dug the heels of their hands against their eyes, struggling to push the memories away. "No. No. It's not real."

"Mmm." Anderson groaned a little, pulling his head back up only for it to nod and drop again, chin falling to his chest, eyes rolling up before his eyes slid closed.

Fear wrapped a fist around their heart, but they kept their voice steady. "Stay with me. We're almost through this." They turned their gaze back out at Earth, knowing Anderson was dying, hating there was nothing they could do to help him. How long did it take for the Crucible to do whatever the hell it'd been designed for and end the damn war? They needed an extraction team.

"Shepard?" Anderson called out to them, but it wasn't right, he didn't say their name there.

"It's alright, calm down. He's here right now. Right in front of you. He's not dead yet, might not even die at all. There's still time." That voice. Where did that voice come from? It sounded like them but it wasn't them.

"You did good, son." He moved a little, shifting in their peripheral. "You did good." His head dropped again, chin hitting his chest. "I'm proud of you."

"Thank you, sir." They managed to turn their head to look at him, but he'd stopped breathing. "Anderson?"

Nothing. Dead. Anderson was dead.

"Shepard? Shepard, I'm right here." Anderson's voice reached their ears, but it didn't come from the corpse sitting next to them.

Tears filled their eyes, making them growl in frustration. They were memories. Just memories, but the memories refused to pull back, refused to leave them be, until they weren't so sure anymore what was real. "No, Anderson's not dead." They raked their hands through their hair, pulling it into fists and shook their head. "No," they said again, disgusted by the way their voice came out as a whimper. "No."

"No, you're right. He's not dead." Jane. The voice belonged to Jane. They remembered Jane.

"Okay, okay. It's alright, Loco." Big, beefy arms wrapped around them, leading them off somewhere unseen. "This happens sometimes. Dr. Chakwas thinks she's having trouble sorting out memories from what's happening right now. She just needs a few minutes, when she gets like this, she usually checks out for a little bit. I need to get her sitting down."

They whimpered again, hot tears streaking down their cheeks. "Anderson's not dead."

"No, Loco. Anderson's not dead. He's right here." James pushed at their shoulders, urging them down, and they sat before retreating from the memories completely, going to the only place where they could make them stop.

They sat inside with the others, knees drawn up against their chest, rocking back and forth in the nothingness. Jane and John fought to keep the others away from them, afraid they might start pulling more Shepards in and burn themselves out in the process. Everything was going wrong. Joker died. Zaeed died. Liara, Kaidan, Ashley, and Dr. Tulina. Talitha and Toombs. Everyone was dying. They got it all wrong. They were supposed to be fixing things, breaking the cycle and saving the galaxy from the reapers, but they got it all wrong. The leviathans refused to help, they ran away and hid somewhere else. Everything. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

No. Not everything. They'd changed a lot of things, but not all of them were wrong. They'd gained krogan and STG support. They evacuated the Bahak System. The Crucible was already under construction. They still grabbed control of the Shadow Broker's resources, and Miranda was working on replacing the Illusive Man, she'd turn Cerberus around. The quarians forged an alliance with the geth and some lived on Rannoch again already. They found a way to help save Mordin and still cure the genophage. Different. So much different. Was it enough? Could any of it ever be enough?

They came back into their body as James sat a tray down in front of them. They blinked, looking around the room for Anderson, but they didn't see him anywhere. They sighed, shoulders slumping. They needed to tell him, needed to explain about the Intelligence watching them, and they needed to do it before they fell apart again. Their mind felt jittery, there was too much going on. The new ones were too strong, taking too long to adjust.

"Are you hungry, Loco?" James made his way back to the kitchen area and picked up another tray, carrying it back over to sit down next to them. "I made enchiladas."

They rubbed their head, it still hurt. "Where's Anderson?"

"He left a couple of hours ago. You stayed out for quite awhile, and he needed to get back to work." He waved his hand and shrugged. "You know, doing, uh, whatever it is councilors do."

"We didn't get to tell him." They shook their head, squeezing their eyes closed against the pain lancing through their skull.

He sighed, putting his heavy hand on their back. "Anderson knows you want to leave, Loco."

"No," they said, opening their eyes again to look at him, "we didn't get to tell him about the Intelligence."

Jane let out an exasperated sigh, giving them the image of her throwing her hands up in the air before letting them drop down against her thighs. "For the love of … will you please stop talking about it?"

He shrugged. "You've talked to him about it before, though, yeah?"

"It's watching us." They slapped their hand down against their knee, frustration creeping up again. Why didn't anyone ever seem to understand what they said? What made it so hard?

He stopped eating, setting his fork back down on his plate. "What do you mean?"

They growled, saying it again a little slower, "It. Is. Watching. Us."

They pushed up to their hands and knees, head spinning. Looking up, they saw it then, the odd glimmer of a child, like a moving statue carved from flowing ice and light. It was the child, the one who died back on Earth and haunted their dreams.

The kid walked toward them, squatting down in front of them. "Wake up." His voice sounded odd, distorted, coming from nowhere and everywhere all at once.

"You took in too many." The voice came from somewhere else, somewhere they couldn't place. "You can't even keep it together for five minutes."

Tapping into what had to be the last of their reserves, they pulled themselves to their feet. Their hand moved back to hold their gut, applying useless pressure to their wounds. "What? Where am I?"

"Loco?" Another voice, they thought it sounded familiar. Yeah, they knew the voice. It sounded like James. They didn't know James made it through the beam, where did he come out? "Loco? Hey, what do you mean it's watching us?"

The kid looked up at them. "The Citadel. It's my home."

They looked out over the hulking device behind the boy, a bright beam of energy shooting out through the middle. What the hell was that thing? Was it part of the Crucible? "Who are you?"

"I am the Catalyst," the kid said, voice calm, void of inflection as if he'd said the most obvious thing ever.

It was an AI or a VI. Something the Crucible's science team put in place to make it more user-friendly. It must've tapped into their memories somehow, found a face to use as a holographic interface.

"I thought the Citadel was the Catalyst." Even as they said it, a new thought crept into their mind. The leviathans said they created an AI, put it in charge of finding a way to preserve organic life. They called it the Intelligence, and it turned against them, slaughtering them and creating the first reapers. What if the thing in front of them was the Intelligence?

"No, the Citadel is a part of me," the AI said.

It was the Intelligence, it had to be. So why talk to them instead of trying to harvest them? They needed to keep it talking, though, needed time to think. But thinking seemed to be getting damn hard. So was staying upright.

"Shepard?" James called out to them again, but they still didn't see him anywhere. Was he lost?

"I need to stop the reapers," they said. "Do you know how I can do that?" Maybe they'd get lucky and the Intelligence would start monologuing and show them a weakness.

"I control the reapers. They are my solution." The Intelligence said it with so much ease, so much confidence. As if the reapers weren't slaughtering people by the thousands with each passing second. The Intelligence created monstrosities, performed horrendous acts, forged abominations out of its victims and then turned them loose to terrorize and kill. Solution … as if the reapers were a good thing, or like the harvest was meant as some sort of gift.

"No, stop it!" They pulled at their hair, shaking their head. "It's not real. It's not now."

"Hey." Something shook them, and they swatted it away. "Hey, Loco. Come on, it's okay. Let's just eat dinner, alright?" The memory of the Intelligence faded away, James' face taking its place.

They reached out, putting their hand on James' shoulder, using him as an anchor. They felt Jane in the back of their head, annoyance seeping off of her, but she stayed quiet. Finally.

He smiled at them. "There you are. Hey. Your enchiladas are getting cold."

They looked at the plate, slowly reaching out to pick up the fork sitting next to it, all too aware their hand trembled. "Okay."

"Okay. Good." James picked his own fork back up, using the edge to cut into one of the enchiladas. "So, hey, I spoke to Zaal'Koris. He wants to come see you tomorrow."

Their brow knit together, confusion flooding their mind. A quarian admiral wanted to come see them at the hospital? "Why?"

"Because Dawn's been working with him to get the quarians resettled," Jane said with a sigh. Apparently silence really just wasn't her thing.

James glanced at them, shrugging. "Uh, well, because you two made friends, remember?"

They stayed quiet for a long time, trying to sift through the memories to find one matching what James and Jane said. A few sprung up of them talking to the admiral aboard the Rayya during Tali's hearing, but then one stood out as different: Zaal'Koris on the Normandy with Shala'Raan. They talked about the geth forming an alliance with the quarians. They latched on to the memory, realizing it was one of those belonging only to Dawn, and followed the thread, pulling the memories into place. They helped the quarians and geth come to an agreement and then went with Zaal'Koris to Rannoch. They talked to Zaal'Koris, and he showed them his face while he tried to make music with an ancient flute. He intended to get the quarians and geth to help them with the reapers.

Things making more sense, they nodded, turning their attention to their plate. "We remember."

"So, are you alright with him coming to see you?" James asked.

"Yes." They brought a bite to their mouth and paused, frowning when sauce dripped back down, splattering against the plate before splashing onto their shirt. "He's helping with the reapers."

"Right." He handed them a napkin. "I'll send him a message, let him know he's cleared to visit."

They stuck the bite in their mouth, humming their approval as they chewed and wiped the sauce off their shirt. "Where's Garrus?"

"Garrus and Thane went to go talk to Grundan Krul." James put down his fork and opened his omni-tool. "There's a game on, you mind if we watch while we eat?"

"Grundan Krul?" The name didn't make sense. Grundan Krul was one of the names etched into Garrus' visor, a member of his team on Omega. One of the dead.

"Yeah, you remember him." He turned one the vidscreen, finding the channel he wanted, and a soccer game filled the screen. "He's a friend of Garrus'. Grundan Krul helped Garrus out on Omega back when he did his thing as Archangel. Batarian guy, he was on the Normandy for awhile, and you made him Shadow Broker."

No, that wasn't right at all. They looked at James and shook their head. "Liara's the Shadow Broker."

James muted the volume coming from the vidscreen, turning a little to face them. He reached out, carefully setting his hand on their knee. "Loco … Liara died when the old Normandy went down. Do you need to go look at your pictures again?"

They glanced at their memorial shelf, taking in the pictures of all of those who died in Dawn's reality, the SR2 standing out on Joker's hat. They remembered. Liara was dead. Tears welled up in their eyes. "No."

"I'm so sorry."

They lay in their bed, listening to the sounds of James' soft snores coming from the other room. Their headache finally faded, but they couldn't get to sleep. They missed their lovers. They missed Garrus. Thane. And Kaidan. Ashley, Jack, Miranda, and Tali. They missed Traynor and Kelly and Liara. Steve and Diana and Jacob. Samara. Even Javik and James.

James lived with them at the hospital, but they weren't supposed to touch him. Not like that. They didn't want to touch him like that anyway, but some of them did. It wasn't all about the physical, not completely. They missed the companionship, being taken seriously. Having what they thought and said be important to someone. They missed being real and whole. Missed being Commander.

"Tell me about it," Jane let out a weary sigh.

"Is this going to get better? Are we going to get better?" They whispered, rolling over and pulling the blanket up under their chin.

"I don't know. I hope so." Fear tinged Jane's voice. She may hope, but she didn't believe. "I really, really hope so, but God, I don't know."

"What will happen to us if we're still here when the reapers come?" They couldn't stay on the Citadel. Not while the rest of the galaxy scrambled to figure out how to fight the reapers. They needed off the damn hunk of metal if they wanted to stop the reapers. They really couldn't be there when the reapers moved the Citadel to Earth's orbit. Everyone on the Citadel would be killed. Unless … would it end the cycle? If the reapers killed them instead of dying on the Crucible?

"No matter how screwed up you are, Anderson still knows we have intel vital to the war. He's going to need us out there, and he'll do what needs to be done to make sure we win this thing." Jane seemed to hesitate, and they could tell she really wanted to say something else, but she fought to keep it to herself.

They pushed against Jane's wall, trying to get the rest out of her. "What aren't you telling us?"

"Nothing." Jane pushed back, holding her ground. "Just go to sleep already."

They let out a sigh, tossing over to their other side. "We can't sleep."

"Clearly." Jane left them with the impression she rolled her eyes at them. "Maybe take another shower? It helps sometimes. Or rub one out, you seemed pretty interested in exploring this morning."

They ignored the crude suggestion and instead asked, "What do you think Garrus and Thane will do about the Intelligence?"

Jane seemed to think about it for a moment before saying, "I don't know, but I trust them to figure something out."