Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect, save the OCs you will encounter in this particular story. It will not merely be a re-telling of the ME story as we know it, so expect changes and (hopefully) surprising and enjoyable twists! This story is rated M for a reason and will contain future scenes of violence, gore, sex, and various other mature situations. There will also be copious amounts of wonderful, wonderful angst. Please consider yourself warned.

A/N: A bit of a filler but the next chapter is going to be a big one; both in length and importance! I'll give you a hint (cause you folks deserve it what with my tardiness regarding updates!) - Alchera!;)

Any and all reviews are appreciated! A big thank you goes out to everyone who has added this story to their alerts and/or faves :) It all means so much to me! – Fallon.

Chapter Sixteen

"He who trusts the world, the world betrays him." – Hazrat Ali Ibn Abu-Talib

It was late and the crew was either sleeping or manning terminals on the bridge. The mess hall was empty and quiet save for Eira, who was finishing up her latest meal for Shepard.

In the three days since Horizon, she had left many meals for him. Each time she took the elevator to his quarters, there would be an empty tray outside his door and she would switch them, knock on his door, and leave. She never saw him and she was truly beginning to wonder when he planned on leaving his cabin again.

In his absence, Miranda had taken charge of the crew and while Garrus was supposed to be aiding her, the majority of the commands were given by her. They'd spent the last few days on various small assignments, mostly drop offs and intel gathering missions of which she was made no part of.

Not that she minded.

Garrus and Chakwas found ways for her to help that kept her on the Normandy and whenever she stole a moment to eat, she would make something to bring Shepard.

She loaded up the tray and made for the elevator. She had managed to scrounge up enough supplies to make him pasta and while it wasn't anything fancy, he had yet to return anything she had made.

The elevator door hissed open and she smiled sadly upon seeing yet another bare tray waiting for her. She set about her little ritual, humming as she went. She gathered up the dirty plates and placed the tray she had brought in its place.

She didn't hear the hiss of the cabin door opening.

"Eira?"

She yelped and jumped back, dropping the tray and sending its contents flying. The plates shattered on the floor.

She looked up and was completely taken aback by the sight before her.

It was Shepard.

Only it wasn't. The man before her looked broken.

He looked like a man long deprived of peace and sleep. His usual stubble had grown out, giving way to a short and scruffy beard. There were dark circles under his eyes and the loose shirt and track pants he wore were filthy. His eyes were dull, disconnected; and she felt as though he was looking right through her when his gaze fell upon her.

He knelt down and began picking up the pieces of broken ceramic.

"Sorry," he mumbled, "didn't mean to startle you."

"I…it's all right," she said, stammering, "I should have been paying attention."

She knelt down and started helping him.

They tidied up together, neither saying a word, until he broke the silence.

"You've been bringing me food."

Eira nodded, "I wasn't sure what you liked…"

"It was all very good," he muttered, still averting his gaze from her, "Thank you."

His words caught her by surprise and she fumbled trying to find her voice, "Y-You're welcome, Shepard."

He nodded toward the tray of food she'd brought, "I was coming out to see if you'd been by…"

She smiled, "Its pasta today."

He stood, the pieces of broken ceramic in his hands, and nodded towards his cabin.

"Could you bring it inside?"

Eira couldn't hide her surprise at his request. She felt as though there was something sacred about this space he'd spent the last three days mourning in. Stepping into it didn't seem right, even with invitation.

His tired gaze finally met hers and she swallowed hard, nodding before she could second guess herself any further.

She fetched the tray and followed him inside the cabin.

The first thing that caught her eye was the debris scattered across the floor. Clothes, broken glass, and books obscured the floor itself. His desk had been overturned and the terminal was smashed upon the floor. Descending the stairs into his sleeping quarters, she saw that the mess continued. Empty bottles of whiskey were spread across his bed and the shattered remains of what she could only guess had been lamps lay in a heap nearby.

She brushed aside some glass shards and sat the tray down on the small table beside his bed. Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of him tossing the ceramic pieces onto a pile of debris near the fish tank.

"Well, here you go –

"What have I missed?"

She looked at him and saw that he hadn't moved.

"EDI said she sent the reports to you."

Shepard's brow furrowed and he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I'm not asking her," he said quietly, his voice laced with frustration, "I'm asking you."

"Miranda's kept everyone busy. We've been doing supply drops and intel runs –

He looked up, "She sent you?"

"Well, no. Garrus and Chakwas have found ways for me to help that have kept me on the Normandy."

Shepard nodded and lapsed into silence.

"Are…are you back then?" Eira asked as gently as she could.

"Hmm," Shepard sighed, "Have to be."

"I…heard what happened on Horizon."

She saw his body tense up and, when he said nothing, she continued carefully; well aware that she was treading on dangerous territory.

"I'm…I'm just sorry that happened to you."

Shepard clenched his jaw and after a tense moment of silence, he spoke.

"Life's going to fuck you over, Eira. You've not been off that station long, but you've already gotten a taste of it."

Eira made to speak but Shepard pressed on.

"People you love will die and those that don't will toss you aside like garbage the moment it pleases them!"

He punched the wall of the fish tank and Eira jumped.

She knew it would be best if she left. Already she'd said the wrong thing and made it worse. She bit her lip and started for the door, certain that leaving couldn't make things worse. Maybe they could both forget the whole thing even happened.

"I'm sorry, Eira."

She stopped in her tracks and turned to see Shepard leaning against the fish tank looking completely and utterly defeated. It wasn't a look she was accustomed to seeing on him and even now it felt like it just didn't belong. He was a hero to so many and hadn't so much as wavered since she'd met him. But then she had caught a glimpse, only just recently, when he'd bumped into her after returning from Horizon.

She had yet to get the image of him with tear-glazed eyes out of her mind.

"You didn't deserve that," he muttered, his voice pulling her from her thoughts.

She shrugged, feigning indifference, "It wasn't my place."

He shook his head and slowly sank down, sitting on the floor with his back to the tank, "No. You've been kind," he took a deep breath. "I'm sorry."

She couldn't help but smile softly.

"Don't be."

He snorted and shook his head slowly in disbelief, "You forgive too easily."

"It's not my place; you've no reason to apologize for reminding me of that and I've no right to hold a grudge against you for that."

There was a strangely comfortable silence, in which Shepard's gaze never left hers.

Eira took a deep, steadying breath; steeling her resolve.

"You were right; I've not been off Nafna long. I don't know anything about loving someone," she averted her eyes from him, "I don't know anything about what you're going through."

"Eira –

"But I do know your friends had two years to mourn your loss. Ashley had two years," she continued, her heart pounding fiercely in her chest, "You've not stopped working since you woke up. You haven't had time to mourn what those two missed years cost you."

Shepard hung his head and Eira couldn't see his face. She did see his shaking hands however.

"I guess I'm just saying that it's all right; needing these past few days."

He said nothing.

"I'll…I'll just let myself out," she said, gesturing to the door, "I'm really, really sorry –

"Eira," Shepard stood but didn't look at her, "Tell Miranda I'll be down in an hour."

She smiled.

"I want her and Garrus in the comm room and ready to brief me. Understood?"

She nodded quickly, "Of course, commander."

"And Eira?"

"Yes?"

Shepard shifted uncomfortably on his feet, "I assume it goes without saying that you keep what we've discussed here to yourself?"

He looked up at her then and she hoped he could see the sincerity in her eyes when she answered.

"You have my word."

"So, I hear you're the one we have to thank for getting Shepard out of his cabin?" Garrus asked, elbowing Eira.

He'd only left the comm room briefing moments ago and was working in the battery when Eira appeared, eager to hear how had things went.

Eira blushed, "He said that?"

Garrus shook his head, "No, you have EDI to thank for that. She told me whenever you brought him something to eat, kept me informed as much as she could without violating his privacy. Thank you for that, sticking it out like you did."

"It was nothing," she fidgeted, "How…how was the briefing?"

"You mean how was Shepard?" Garrus said in a teasing voice, "He was his old self – stoic, to-the-point, and unwavering. He's set on growing our team, wants to go after the drell and asari on Illium next."

"When do you leave?"

Garrus shook his head, "I'm not. It seems he wants Grunt and a certain biotic to join him, said as much in the comm room."

"Jack?"

"You, kid." Garrus said with a chuckle, poking her in the arm, "Seems you must have impressed him during your time together on the range."

"I did?" Eira asked, her voice pinching into a high pitch as nerves wracked her.

The thought of going on a mission with Shepard both thrilled and terrified her. The last thing she wanted was a repeat of Korlus and yet she couldn't recall one thing she had learned on the range with Shepard.

Garrus laughed and put his hand on her shoulder, "Don't sound so shocked, kid. This is your chance to show him what you can do. Just keep a level head, listen to his orders, and be aware of your surroundings."

"You make it sound so easy…"

"It's not, but you're smart, kid. And even better than that, you're a good person. One who wants to do right by Shepard. That's not a bad place to start."

The days following Shepard's return to duty were hectic. It seemed to Eira that he had fallen back into his usual rhythm and the entire crew seemed revitalized upon seeing him on the deck once again. He jumped from problem to problem, putting out fires as they arose, and she scarcely saw him sit down let alone eat in that time.

That of course meant he had no time for her, not that she expected otherwise. Only once in that time did he acknowledge her. They were passing in the hall and he'd looked up from his omni-tool long enough to offer her a short nod and what she had hoped was the barest hint of a smile. Afterwards she had convinced herself that her mind was playing tricks and yet the hope remained.

When the day came were Shepard announced that they would be procuring the services of the drell assassin next, Eira was beyond surprised when Shepard seemingly stuck by his initial choice to have her join him planet side.

"Are you sure about this, commander?" she asked as the Normandy's airlock hissed open and they stepped out onto the platform.

Grunt moved on ahead of them, clearly scoping out the area for threats. A group of asari nearby gawked at him but the krogan paid them no mind.

"Grunt?" Shepard shrugged, "We're going after an assassin, it's a mission bound to have complications; I'm guessing we're going to need some muscle."

"No, I mean me. Last time you took me along I ended up disappointing you," she frowned upon remembering the shuttle ride back from Korlus, "I don't want anyone to wind up hurt, or worse, because of me."

Shepard grabbed her arm, the surprise of the sudden contact enough to make Eira jump. Ahead of them, Grunt had stopped and looked to Shepard for instruction. Shepard nodded to the krogan and he continued onward, lingering nearby should anything happen.

"Eira, I'll admit I was hesitant. I don't want you to get yourself killed. I don't…"

He realized he was still touching her arm and pulled back. Eira found herself immediately missing that small, innocent touch and tried hard not to let her disappointment show on her face.

"I saw what you were capable of on Nafna, Eira," he began again, his voice a whisper, "You don't need to prove you're strong, not to anyone. Just stick close, keep your shields up, and shoot at the bastards shooting at us."

Not twenty-four hours later and not only had the drell joined the crew but so had the asari. The Normandy was getting crowded, what with Thane taking life support and Samara the lounge, but no one seemed to mind. Things were coming together and everyone's spirits seemed lifted.

Eira had made it through reaching the drell with something akin to grace, managing to take down a number of enemies and not sustain any major damage in the process. And while he'd taken Miranda instead of her in the pursuit of Samara, insisting she needed rest, Eira was proud of herself.

She was exhausted, but when she finally lay down in her cot that night, sleep eluded her. After laying there for an hour hoping for exhaustion to win out, she felt the beginnings of a migraine approaching and sighed.

It was not the best end to the day.

Casting back her blankets, she tugged on a sweater that was far too big for her and padded out into the corridor as quietly as she could; intent on fetching some water from the kitchen without waking Kasumi.

Upon entering the mess hall though she was surprised to find that she wasn't alone.

Shepard stood in the small kitchen and was rifling through the contents of the refrigerator.

She heard him grumble a curse under his breath as he rifled through the fridge and gave a light laugh, only for him to jump and spin around in surprise.

It would have been amusing, catching him unaware, if the look on his face wasn't one of genuine fear. His eyes were wide and he had a firm grip on the counter.

Eira held up her hands, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to startle you!"

She saw his chest rise and fall sharply as he took deep, steadying breaths.

"It's…it's all right," and then, "what are you doing up?"

Eira brushed her loose hair behind her ears, her fingers flying quickly to her temples as her head throbbed anew.

"A migraine. You?"

Shepard sighed, "Nightmares."

"What of?"

The question flowed off her tongue too quickly for her to bite it back.

She saw Shepard practically cringe and her heart sunk.

"I'm –

"It's all right; it's just not something I want to worry others about. I can deal with it myself," Shepard said as he stepped out from behind the counter and stood before her, "Why is it you're always apologizing to me?"

The heat of his gaze upon her made her feel as though she was going to melt. Suddenly the throbbing pain in her head was outmatched by the frantic beating of her heart. And yet, over the ruckus, she was vividly aware of how quiet it was and how very alone they were on the deck.

It was a valid question. She was always apologizing, always stumbling over her words. Around him all semblance of grace and composure left her before she was aware enough to grasp for its threads.

She hadn't lied to him before; she didn't know what loving someone felt like. But if what she was feeling was even a pale shadow of the real thing then she wasn't sure she wanted it. Nor did she want the hurt of knowing he still clearly yearned for another.

It felt like an illness with no end in sight, no possible cure.

"I feel like I should I guess," She said finally, looking anywhere but at him, "There's so many people asking so much of you and I…I pry and fumble and –

"If I felt like you were wasting my time I'd say something, Eira."

Eira bit her lip and slowly shook her head.

"I can't answer your question…"

"Why?" he sounded confused, "Is there something wrong?"

He took a step closer to her and, though she tried, she couldn't resist the urge to look up at him.

He still looked exhausted but there was a softness to his expression she hadn't seen since Horizon.

She swallowed hard, "I…just can't."

And before he could argue she fled back to the safety of her room, her desire for a glass of water long forgotten.

Shepard stood in the mess hall, which was silent except for the faint patter of Eira's hurried retreat.

There was a part of him that felt compelled to run after her and that both confused and terrified him.

He wasn't blind. He knew she was attracted to him, had felt the way her gaze lingered when she thought he wasn't looking. And he'd be lying if he said he wished her attentions would focus elsewhere.

He liked the blush on her cheeks, the way she bit the inside of her cheek when she was anxious, and the bounce in her step when she was happy. She was beautiful and kind and….

And…he liked the way he felt around her.

Shepard cursed under his breath and headed for the elevator, sneaking a glance down the corridor she'd hurried down.

The more he thought on it the more he wanted to write it off as nothing more than lust. Lust was simple. Once the need was satisfied he would be free to move on. Lust had no strings attached, no expectations. And best of all perhaps, there was no heartache on his part. He'd done it often enough as a youth on Omega.

What was stopping him now?

But the moment the question entered his head, he immediately knew the answer.

It was the same reason he ate the half-cooked, salty meals she had brought him; and why he'd checked outside his door for them more often than necessary.

It was why he defended her so vehemently when Jack laid into her.

And why he'd had to bite back a smirk when she asked him about himself when they'd had lunch together on the Citadel.

It was a little bit more complicated than lust.