What's this? Another chapter of 'Don't Go?'
The sky must be fuckin' falling, Lord Viperhat rarely ever posts so quickly after he pledges to post more.
Anyway this'll be the last chapter for the 'Broken' arc of this story since it was just a foundation to show how Shepard went from a member of his sisters crew to a near-walking corpse throwing himself into Cerberus' loving embrace like a baby koala seeking comfort.
After this we'll be seeing lots of progress throughout the 2 years before ME:2 officially begins and I for one am looking forward to making shit move along.
Though here's one fun fact before we begin.
Mass effect: 2 is my least favourite game from the trilogy, my favourite being Mass effect: 3.
Now to start the story before you all start throwing your tomatoes at me.
( - 0 - )
(John Shepard – Cerberus Station – Omega Nebula)
"We're here."
Miranda's clinically cold voice snapped John out of his depressive reverie, jolting in his seat which elicited a painful wheezing cough from the sudden discomforting sensation of his throat trying to rumble when dryer than Tuchunka in summer. For a few moment he couldn't discern anything beyond the look of concern from Jacob as he towards Miranda with a questioning glance.
John – in his vision-blurring pain – cast the most intimidating look he could towards the Cerberus Operative almost daring him to voice any of his 'concerns'. If he thought that he could fool him then John had to wonder just how low the standards for recruitment were at this place…
Especially since they seemed to think they could do anything to make him not utterly worthless anymore. They had to be desperate and delusional.
Almost immediately he forced his eyes shut, ignoring the pitiful field of vision in his e fade away to pure black as he tried to focus anything than his uselessness. A broken soldier he may be, but a soldier he still was. His instincts were screaming at him to not trust this awful group of people, the enemy of his short career; to keep his wits about him as he looked towards the slider that would soon lead him out of the shitty shuttle and into what many would consider hells gates…
His hand unclenched – when had he even started clenching it? – and his eyes slowly slipped open once again, looking over towards Miranda as she read what seemed to be reports from her datapad.
He couldn't tell what she was looking at, his vision was just to damaged now…
"Mind telling me just where you two are taking me now, or am I gonna have to wait even longer? He questioned, hoping that his 'companions' would be willing to divulge something. Though when he saw Jacob about to answer Miranda just cut him off before the man could speak.
"I'm afraid you will have to wait for a little longer, Major. We still don't have your full cooperation yet." Her cool voice shot any argument from her lackey down for the most part. But when John's expression began to twist into a snarl, Jacob seemed to finally grow some kind of spine.
"Bullshit." John snapped back, only getting a mere raise of the eyebrow in return; further infuriating him. "You've kept me in the damn dark long enough!"
"You are not in any position to be making demands, Major. Now calm down before you burst one your few remaining blood vessels left."
Jacob flinched, clearly seeing the look on his face and coming to the realisation that his superior had made a mistake. But before the man could do anything drastic, he finally decided to weigh in on the issue.
"Come on, Miranda..." He implored tiredly, casting a short look at the angry Major before him. "You aren't going to earn his full aid if you don't compromise just a little."
Her icy gaze fell upon him, almost making him shiver on the spot, though thankfully he had his pride and wasn't going to just keel over immediately.
"The Illusive Man's instruction was rather clear, Jacob. Find Major. Shepard and recruit him for our cause." She chided coldly. "If you wish to disobey our boss, then do so in your own time and not whilst we are on a mission."
Jacob rolled his eyes a little, causing a spark of curiosity within John as he watched this oddly familiar man verbally spar with his partner.
"Our orders were clear. But I just don't see how we are going to get anything from hiding things from him. Bureaucracy isn't going to help you here, Miranda."
'He's smart enough to know that at least.' John thought to himself, trying not to let his disappointment in the man show when he backed down after a couple seconds after. 'This woman seems good at pulling his pine out of his ass when he starts making some measure of sense. Fucking executives.'
Should he have expected anything more from Cerberus dogs? Probably not, but they could have at least tried a little and even if wasn't a particularly 'ends justify the means' kind of man even he could see how small deceptions could saved them a lot of headache in this situation…
Then again, Miranda was right… He wasn't in any position to make demands.
He hated her more for that truth.
Luckily, it seemed as if the painful trip had come to an end as his roasted nerve endings barely managed to pick up on the all too familiar rumbling of a shuttle landing, its swaying and rocking motions bringing a profound sense of comfort to the survivor. It obviously wasn't the same, but he could at least find some level of Zen from the resulting feelings that gently washed over him in comforting waves.
"We're here." John barely registered the pilots statement as he kept his eyes on the door in a soft paranoia-induced tunnel vision. He didn't know what he would see on the other side of this shuttle, but his mind was ablaze with awareness and his gut alight with painfully strong sensations similar to times when he'd barely avoided being skewered by stray gunfire or crushed under crumbling debris…
Or the last few moments before his body was set on fire by the Normand-
'Shut up, shut up, shut up!' His eyes squeezed shut on their own, shielding his eyes from the radioactive flames that were no longer there. But despite his body telling him otherwise his mind just wouldn't cooperate.
The sounds of numerous explosions sent trembles throughout the ship, almost managing to dose out the horrifying sounds of screams that he could just about make out to be his own. He didn't even know that human beings were remotely capable of making those kinds of sounds, let alone himself; different were they from his last dance with death, the sorrow and mania replaced with nothing but pain and a void that seemed to grow the longer he burned.
Faintly, he could hear Adams yelling his name before that too was cloaked by the sounds of metal twisting and distorting from sheer force alone. The sounds made his deteriorating body screech and his head pound even more as his fingers and thumbs melted into what felt like waxy caricatures of what they were meant to look like.
"-epard!"
His head shook vigorously, trying with all its might to send the traumatic memories away with each pain-filled swing and twist but to no avail. Adams voice had changed, sounding deeper; the baritone becoming richer.
"Shepard, you need to stop!" The voice… Jacob's? It sounded similar enough, what had he been doing there? He had never come across the man on the Normandy.
"Shepard!" His voice called out again, sounding perturbed. "Shit! He's losing it, Miranda don't restrain him, Jesus you'll harm him more!"
"We should've expected this." The voice of his least favourite woman invaded his head space again. "After everything he's gone through this should have been the first thing we took into account."
"Then this was one hell of an oversight, Miranda!" Jacob cut back, sounding alarmed from what he could tell. "How did you overlook PTSD?"
"I don't know!" Miranda growled in return, though the tinges of worry tracing her voice was something John could only believe he'd made up.
"Fuck, give him a moment!" Jacob commanded, Miranda huffed but complied. "He's calming down a little, give him some room to breathe and we'll make our move from there.
Soon after John felt his pins and needles – when had he gotten pins and needles? – recede slowly, the terrible sensation of his body dying finally began to lessen and fizzle away before finally disappearing altogether. Breathes he didn't know he needed stretched his lungs out in a semi-satisfying way as his struggling muscles eventually stopped cramping and seizing under his skin.
Slowly, hesitantly even; he opened his eyes again, wincing as the leathery skin of his dry eyelids rubbed against itself as they retracted back into the sockets. His vision locked with Jacob's own for a few seconds as he regained his baring, immediately noting that the door was now open and the curious yet shaken faces of other Cerberus dogs had been watching him break down. His face scrunched in rage, they hadn't even tried to help…
How sub-human could Cerberus types go? They disgusted him.
Yet he was likely going to join them if what he'd been told was correct.
But that was fine…
If Jane could be given a second chance…
"Major." Miranda called to him, looking rather off put by the entire situation as a whole. He face was mildly scrunched in displeasure and an odd look of what could be described as a mixture of uncertainty and pity stirred with superiority was visible throughout all her features.
"… What?" He rasped, wincing as his throat protested the action vehemently. It felt raw, had he actually been screaming? "What is it…?"
Jacob took over, he seemed to have more experience with dealing with this shit than his snobby superior did at least. If he wasn't a worthless Cerberus bastard John would have compared his manner to Garrus during his early C-Sec days. But Jacob didn't deserve that high a praise, likely being the cause for many good men and women to deteriorate himself.
He said nothing for a second before asking him a few of the usual questions he had received over the years, he merely answered as curtly as possible. The less time he spent talking to these people the better in his own humble opinion.
"Well, if you're finished with your little episode," Miranda chimed back up, earning a look of ire from John and even Jacob. "then perhaps we can move along? You still need to be debriefed by The Illusive Man before anything official can start."
"…"
"Then we can make progress to giving your sister her life back."
"… You better not be bullshitting me."
Miranda scoffed, folding her arms under her considerable bust. "Again, I can assure you that I am not. Now follow me." She commanded before turning back and waltzing out of the shuttle.
John sighed in disgust, he found himself hating the woman even more as time went on. 'Good god, she even walks like she has a superiority complex. Not even her big, bubbly ass can save her from my lowering opinion… I've seen better anyway.'
A bitter look briefly passed Johns face, though if Jacob noticed he didn't say anything on the matter and he preferred that.
He was here for Jane, not for anyone else.
He could see where things were heading, where the pieces were falling. He was probably going to become one of the lapdogs for this 'Illusive Man' within the hour or so.
But that was fine.
"Come on, John, mooooove!"
"You know you aren't moving me, little sis. But ask nicely and might consider it."
"You asshole!"
"Indeed, sweet sibling of mine! That's me!" He laughed. "Now what's the magic word?"
"Move or I'll cunt punt you!"
"Correct answer, now lets go you're wasting our time."
If he had to become the thing he hated for Jane, he would.
Nothing would stop him from saving her.
And nothing would stop him from finding the bastards responsible for this whole mess and gutting them like fucking fish.
( - 0 - )
(Tali'Zorah Vas-Neema – Migrant Fleet – Far Rim)
The room was cramped, suffocatingly so. But the sensation of being so compacted brought a homely familiarity to her, he bed – if you could call it that – was an amalgamation of junk and some rags thrown on top to make it softer than it would be otherwise; however it still dug in awkward places on her body which would make her toss and turn until she found a comfortable position that wouldn't feel like sharp fingers trying to drag her into hell.
Her fist clenched around the rough fabric. Maybe that was what she deserved when she thought about it.
She was home, back in the Migrant Fleet which bore and raised her for her entire life. She was welcomed back like royalty, her pilgrimage a resounding success from any conceivable angle, it was so successful that even her father couldn't help but tell her how proud he was of her. Her position in the fleet was a good one it seemed and the captain of her chosen ship was more than happy to house her upon the Neema for her 'outstanding achievement for the people.'
Yet she still felt so…
No words came to her to describe the sensation of sheer and complete pain she had jolting up and down her body 24/7. Her mind just couldn't adjust to anything properly now as she continued to recall her time aboard that state of the art ship that had thrown her into what was probably going to be the biggest adventure of her entire life. Her time had been one that she never wanted to forget, the people she had met, the operations she had taken part of regardless of the circumstances they held.
But the way it had all ended would never leave her, despite how much she would actually love for that to happen…
It was clear to the other Quarians that she wasn't exactly in the best of moods, they even held off on questioning her. Given how her people had developed a habit of butting into other peoples business this had actually surprised her greatly, by now she would have been questioned all day by Raan and even Gerrel would have even asked one or two questions. But everyone on the Neema just seemed to give her some space for the time being, it was different.
But she knew that the news of the Normandy had certainly reached them before she arrived back. It would take a little bit, but they would ask the questions soon enough.
She wasn't ready.
She would never be ready.
Not for that.
Never for that.
The haunting visage of such a beautiful ship blowing up before her eyes was already painful enough with the combination of knowing people she knew on said ship had died. But whenever her mind flashed to the most important people to her on that ship never made it out…
When she and the crew found out about Jane's passing, Garrus and another crewmember had to hold Kaiden back when Joker told them everything, Tali thought back on how scared she was that the enraged male would actually kill the disabled pilot. But even she felt a rising anger towards Joker in that moment, but her knees had almost given out from the news of her Captains death, her sacrifice for a pilot who was too attached to his ship.
Then Adam's pod was recovered, and what was inside finally made her legs give out as her voice let out a choked, strangled scream when she saw what had happened to John Shepard.
She had recognised the burns from Eezo-radiated plasma. They were normally fatal to any who received enough exposure to the substance. And she had allowed John to take her spot immediately after her shift had ended with little to no argument, the burned husk of meat laying on the floor of that escape pod had been the product of her own lack of backbone, her own incompetency and unwillingness to finish what she had started. Maybe if she had made John wait until she had finished her task then things wouldn't have gone so wrong.
Her cries had echoed around the surviving crew of the lost ship, Liara had even tried comforting her to no avail. She remembered Garrus throwing up at the sight before letting out a string of angry curses, his own knees giving out soon after, joining Tali on the snowy ground of Alchera.
No one left that crash unharmed in some way. But Tali couldn't bring herself to continue looking at John knowing his pain was caused by her own suggestibility. His suffering , his eventual death at the hands of Eezo exposure…
It was all her fault.
The man she had fell in love with was going to die a slow and agonising death because she just couldn't put her damn foot down and that was killing her on the inside. It felt as though her body would collapse whenever she thought of him,
And so she had left him to die alone, a decision she couldn't help but try her best to forget.
She couldn't face him again, not after this. He had lost his sister and he would soon lose his own life. She couldn't watch that, and plus it wasn't like Garrus wouldn't stick by him, they were best friends for a reason.
So why did she feel even worse? She had moved away from the pain, no closer towards it. Was her bodies constant, uncomfortable throbbing her comeuppance for her actions? She knew this praise she received from her people, this amazing ship: The Neema and her captain accepting her with open, inviting arms was not anything close to what she deserved.
But she was here now, never to leave again. Maybe when she came into her own a little more she'd expand her horizons but for now?
For now she simply deserved to suffer, so she would keep her head down, get her damn jobs done properly and work to benefit her people. After wronging the Shepard twins it was the very least she could do.
"Tali'Zorah," The voice of who she assumed to be her boss rapped on her door. "Your shift is in an hour, so get down to engineering when your ready, okay?"
"Sure." She replied automatically as she sighed to herself.
"Okay, need to focus, I can't fail everyone again."
And with that, the recently crowned Tali'Zorah Vas-Neema prepared for her upcoming shift.
( - 0 - )
So, internet problems are a massive issue for me right now, so I had to take a little time away otherwise I would just lodged my foot up my providers ass for being so worthlessly incompetent. But hopefully my pissed off actions don't effect this chapter.
Anyway, holy fuck, I was not expecting such a huge reaction to returning. Last time I got such a massive response was back in 2015 when I had first started writing on fanfiction. Thanks guys, you all know how to make a southern English dickhead blush. XD
Hopefully this internet shit sorts itself out soon, then I can hopefully continue writing quicker.
See you all next chapter!
-Viperhat
