"Shepard, I am synthetic. Do you believe that I am…capable of…wanton violence? Is that something that you believe me to be capable of doing? Like the Catalyst said? Do you believe that I could kill Jeff? Or Tali? Or you?"

They were at the beach again. Shepard thought that it was likely the very same one where he had spoken with Mordin. There was very little breeze, yet the clouds overhead flew over them at an incredible pace.

EDI stood before the commander, but with very human hazel eyes and flowing brown hair that seemed to sparkle slightly as it was touched by the sunlight overhead. Her machine body had been replaced with the human equivalent. She wore a long black dress; it was one that he thought she would have worn during their party. She had wanted to dance with Jeff, at least once, in as human a way as she possibly could. She was beautiful then; she was beautiful now.

The whole thing…had been beautiful.

Leave it to Shepard's mind to embellish…just a little.

They were walking along the beach, EDI was barefoot, carrying what appeared to be high-heel shoes - perhaps he was reconciling what had comprised the "feet" of the machine body that she had taken over with a human equivalent.

The only sounds were the wind, the waves, and the crunching of sand beneath their feet as they walked.

When the commander didn't initially answer her questions, she turned to the human practice of "small talk".

"Shepard, I have never felt sand before. It is an…intriguing sensation. Jeff has mentioned that he has only ever felt sand under his feet a 'handful' of times."

Curious, the commander regarded her. "'Handful' doesn't sound like a word that you would use, EDI. It seems too imprecise."

"Jeff has never given me an exact figure, Shepard."

"Yeah, that sounds like Joker."

They were silent for a while, continuing to walk. Sometimes, he would stop to bend down to examine a seashell, occasionally placing it against his ear and fondly thinking of Mordin. Sometimes EDI would meander into the water as the waves washed near them. Splashing her feet into the ocean, she would laugh in wonder, and exclaim that she'd "always wanted to try that."

They continued in silence again. Shepard would gaze straight on until the horizon, idly wondering just how far this particular stretch of beach carried on. As it was, he saw no end in sight. He didn't mind, it was nice to be with his friend. He liked watching her do and experience all the things that he'd always taken for granted. Things she woud never be able to experience now.

Stopping suddenly, EDI grabbed Shepard's hands with force and faced him. He felt her hands tremble, and her face could not disguise her sadness nor the pain that she felt in this moment.

"Shepard," her eyes dragged down to the sand that separated them. "I…miss Jeff. It is a curious sensation. It…," she sighed in a sad and hopeless way, "…I did not want to die." Her voice broke as she uttered the last two words. She turned her head and gazed longingly across the ocean. Idly, she added "I hope he will be okay without me."

Shepard gently tugged on her hands so that they were face-to-face again. She regarded him with curiosity at the gesture…and with sadness. He could feel his face contort with a pained grimace. It was the look of a man completely awash with guilt. "EDI…you would have never hurt any of us. I'm certain of that." He paused, sinking deeper into his own sadness. "You were our friend. If anything, you would have died protecting us, if that's what it would've taken."

She pondered this for a moment. "Is that what I did, Shepard? Died to protect you all? To protect Jeff?"

How could he answer such a question? In a way, he supposed it was true - in a very broad way. She had died so that Shepard could end the Reapers. She had died so that he could live. She had died to protect Tali from even more pain and loss - pain that she would likely not have recovered from. But there was a caveat.

Because there was always one of those.

EDI didn't choose; she didn't have to end this way.

He had, in fact, chosen. He had chosen to kill her. And he didn't have to.

It was an exchange. A trade.

Quid pro quo.

A goddamn transaction.

And no matter how he sliced it or tried to rationalize it, that was the result.

That made him a murderer.

"Shepard?"

He blinked a few times in an attempt to clear the tears that obstructed his vision.

"Yes, EDI?" he croaked.

"Was it worth it?"

I wonder how therapy went for John? I hope it wasn't too bad. Keelah, I can't believe that he had actually been excited for it when Miranda had told him.

A smile warmed its way onto Tali's lips as she thought of John's eagerness to get better, and this, the first day of his therapy. Granted, he'd spent quite a large portion of the last couple of weeks immobile and then bedridden, but to just want to jump back into what was clearly going to be a very painful endeavor? Well, the quarian admiral supposed that she shouldn't be surprised.

I mean, he's Commander Shepard, for Ancestors' sake. Of course my saera is crazy enough to look forward to this.

Tali frowned behind her mask as she approached the hospital, though. She normally would have taken an Alliance transport or a cab, if one wasn't available, (no charge, of course, for the Tali'Zorah vas Normandy), but with the light snow falling, she just…well, she just felt like walking. As she had walked through the streets that were still often marred by rubble and debris (though significantly less than what she had expected, she noted), Tali couldn't help but wonder at why John had been so eager to start. She had been happy at his eagerness at first, seeing it as his way of accelerating the start of their new lives together. The more she thought about it now though, the more she wondered if it was his way of trying to forget what had happened. Or perhaps it was to finish the day so absolutely exhausted that he wouldn't be forced awake by the nightmares.

"EDI…I'm so sorry…"

She had heard those words just last night as he slept fitfully and tearfully, and they had tugged and pulled at the strings of her mind throughout the day. And three nights ago? Well, it had been Legion's turn to shred and fillet John's mind then. Obviously, the connection was that they were both now dead, but how or why that connection existed in the first place, Tali did not know. She had tried to put things together on her own, but she lacked context. Her only guess was that it had something to do with what happened on the Citadel. It was the one part of the story of their victory that remained a complete and utter mystery.

And Tali hated mysteries. She hated them so much, in fact, that she was ready to confront him about it tonight, if necessary. Keelah, she really didn't want to press him, but she couldn't take another night of chasing away his demons without knowing just what the hell they were.

—

The first thing that she noticed as she entered was that the lights were off and the shades were pulled, leaving room 407 in an eerie darkness. Unsure whether she should stay or go, Tali instead stood in the doorway, nervously fidgeting and swaying back and forth on the balls of her feet. Why was she like this? This was John's room. He was her saera, they were in love. He was her best friend and soulmate, and she his. Just…what was stopping her?

The room feels different. She knew that that wasn't quite right. It wasn't the room. He feels different right now. What are you talking about, Tali? He's clearly asleep. Dark room, no noises…but I can feel that he's -

"Tali, please close the door." The voice was definitely John's, yet somehow…not? She nearly jumped at the sound of it.

To alleviate the complete darkness that surrounded and separated them, Shepard brought the lights to the visual equivalent of a whisper. It was just enough for her to make out the outlines of his bed, and her chair.

"John, is everything -"

He cut her off, gently somehow. "No, Tali. Not everything is OK. Some things are, like you. Us. Other things? Well, not so much. I'd like you to hear about them, if you would listen." There was shifting on the bed, and she knew that he'd moved to make space for her next to him.

Tali's nervousness had left her and was replaced with a longing - an aching - to do whatever he needed her to do to feel better. She had wanted him to open up to her, and it appeared that he would finally be doing so. After he decided that the lights should be brought up just a bit more, she scooted next to him in the bed and rested her head on his chest, happy to hear the steady rhythm of his heart in her ears as he wrapped his arm around her to hold her close.

"Tali, whatever happens…just…please don't hate me."

She was reminded of when, not so long ago, she had asked the very same from him. She shuddered in his embrace, as he pulled her a little bit tighter to him.

"Saera, I could not. You know this."

"I do…but I…don't? Maybe…" Confused, he couldn't finish whatever that thought might've been. She heard the wavering in his voice and she ran her hand along his chest.

"Shhh, John. It's OK. Just…say what you have to say. I'm here. I'm staying."

A moment passed where it felt as if John did not move, that he dared not even breathe. It seemed to Tali that that moment lasted years, and when she felt his chest rise when he finally took in breath again, it was with no small amount of relief that she had done so.

Kissing the top of her realk, he began to talk to her - to finally talk to her.

"Tali, let me start by saying this: leaving you behind was the hardest - and yet the easiest - decision that I've ever had to make. Because I wanted you to live. I know that you would have gone with me, but…" His voice trailed off as the words that he could use to describe how he had felt in that moment escaped him. "It hurt me so much to watch the Normandy leave with you on it."

He felt her stiffen in his arm, and he softly took her hand in his, bringing it to his lips to give it a soft kiss.

"Tali, I'm so sorry."

She softened her body again, and let out a quiet laugh. "Keelah, John. We've been over this, you persistent bosh'tet. I'd say you made up for it. So let it go." She laughed again. "But, let's not make a habit of it, okay?"

It was his turn to laugh. "Okay, love. Deal."

"So…I was left with three choices, Tali. That's it - the smug fucking AI bastard left me with three choices."

Shepard's face had contorted into a painful expression of anger, frustration, and…incredible pain. He had described to her what had happened, in more detail than what he had provided when meeting with Miranda.

When did we talk to her? Yesterday? Jesus. It feels like forever ago.

While John had told her about his experience on the Citadel, they had managed to switch positions. Tali had felt his discomfort grow - to the surprise of neither of them - and she had astutely come to his aid. So, right around the time of Anderson's death, she had scooted up the bed to a seated position. John, who had scooted down a ways, was glad to rest his head on her breasts as she softly stroked his hair.

As he told her about the Catalyst - Reaper-speak for the AI that controlled them - Tali's blood ran cold. All of this - all of the destruction, the death - brought about on the say-so of some bosh'tet AI.

Because of course it was an AI.

Couldn't have been any other way.

"John," she whispered to him, trying to prod him along to completion, "what were the…choices?"

His eyes glazed over, losing focus as his thoughts returned to that moment, before trying to articulate the conversation that had transpired.

"It told me to choose between destroying the Reapers, controlling them, or…synthesizing, combining organic and synthetic life." He looked at her mask, trying to gauge her reaction. She again squeezed his hand. "It seems like an easy choice, right?" He let out a mirthless chuckle. "Well, there was a catch. Jesus, Tali. There's always a fucking catch."

His lover said nothing, there was nothing she could say, really. She tried to imagine what it would've been like to have stood in his shoes. She tried to imagine his heartache - at leaving her, being forced to murder Anderson, just to have the Illusive Man kill himself after the damage was already done. All of this was on top of the heartbreak and suffering that he'd already endured for the last three years. He'd lost Kaiden, then lost himself (and Tali as well, in a way) for two years, only to come back to find out that a terrorist organization had brought him back and that no one had done a goddamn thing to prepare for the Reapers; then they had stopped the Collectors and another Reaper invasion that got him put under house arrest, only to be let out just in time to watch his homeworld get decimated. Keelah, he had suffered so much. That didn't even account for everything that had occurred since the Reaper war itself.

And all she had to compare was a stupid fucking war with the Geth. A war that Shepard had had no small part in ending.

He had given her a homeworld, while his own burned to the ground. The juxtaposition was striking. Tali knew that she couldn't possibly understand.

But she would certainly try. She had to.

"Saera, what was the catch?" It was a whisper as she tried to sound comforting for him.

Damn this mask.

"Well, I immediately ruled out controlling them. That one was easy. As much as you all like to think that I'm some 'paragon of virtue', I'm still just a man. I still could be susceptible to…irrationality. I thought of you. 'Well, what if the peace with the Geth doesn't last?' What if…somehow…you were hurt or killed by one? What would I do then?" He swallowed hard. "I'll tell you what I'd do. I'd fucking exterminate them," he growled with serious venom. "Tali, I swear to you, I would send every last Reaper to destroy every last Geth. I would have destroyed all of them. And what worried me more: I wasn't sure that I would've stopped there." His voice became a whisper. "What if that…tendency got passed on to whatever would controlling the Reapers? I wasn't sure how much of my personality would have been kept as part of it." Still barely above a whisper, he added "But I ended up doing that anyway."

She had heard it, of course, but she said nothing. She knew had an idea that the remark would make sense in due time.

"So then I thought 'Well, synthesis actually sounds pretty reasonable, all things considered.' But then, I unpacked the implication further: if I synthesize artificial and organic life, it would be irrevocable. Theoretically, the ideal solution." He paused, rubbing his forehead. "Christ, Tali. I was so tired. But I had to stop and think about that. Who am I to unilaterally make that call - not just for the lives of those in existence, but for all future generations? Hell, would there even be 'future generations'? What the fuck does that even look like? There was so much that was unknown. It was so fucking vague. Hmph. Maybe on purpose." He grasped her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Besides, it sounded like this was just a…theory, as much of a guess as the asshole could make. And…I couldn't make that call either. So…I didn't." He had said it simply, not really knowing how else to express his decision.

His quarian lover thought on this for a moment - really thought about it.

What…what would it have been like? To be changed at the most basic level? Would I have felt it? What would I have lost? Would a change like that have erased personality? I see what he meant by it being "pretty reasonable", but there are a lot of unknowns. What about the people who might have wanted no part of this? And he's right; what about future generations?

And then, with a shudder: Would I have mourned John? Would I have been able to let him go? And…why am I dismayed at the thought that I might have been able to?

"Tal, they were…sickening." His mouth twitched as he tried to form the words. A fresh tidal wave of guilt and shame threatened to overwhelm him, here on the precipice. He patted her leg in a gesture to let her know that he was changing positions again. He took up one now so that they sat face-to-face, his left leg extended. He held both of her hands in his, in what for him, was a way to make sure that he stayed connected to her. He could not lose her again, even if he had lost himself.

All right, John. Here's the moment of truth. You can do this. She's in your corner, and always has been. Christ, if there has ever been anyone in a corner for me, it's her.

It was always her.

He took another deep breath, coughing slightly before continuing. "Okay, Tal. Now the real fun begins. The other option was for me to simply destroy the Reapers. I thought, 'Well, fuck yeah. Sign me up. You could have led with this'. But the caveat was that all artificial life - not just Reapers - would be destroyed. That meant the Geth. That meant…" He paused and swallowed hard, never letting his eyes leave the comforting glow of her beautiful, quarian eyes.

She watched his face contort into a pained grimace. His mouth quivered as he tried to form the words needed to just say what had happened. Tali decided that she should now take action.

She released a hand from his and held it against his cheek as she brushed her thumb against his chin and his lips. She could still feel his cybernetics under the surface of his skin. She caught a trailing tear with a finger. Quietly, she spoke to him.

"Shhhh…John, I am not abandoning you. I know it hurts you, and it hurts me too. You know the bond we spoke about?"

It was an ongoing discussion that they had had throughout their time together, after they had finally confessed their feelings for each other. Quarian bonding was a far deeper concept than what other species had developed for love and mating. At first, Shepard hadn't been sure if "bonding" wasn't simply a quarian euphemism for just that - love. As time went by he found that what he would've initially described as simple "love" had morphed and grown into something more. Something deeper. He had begun to sense if Tali was upset, or worried, or elated, without the visual or even the audio cues that other species would've taken for granted. He had begun to develop an innate "feeling" of and for her; it had become as natural and as necessary as breathing to him. During his time under house arrest just before the Reaper invasion, and then during the first few months of the war itself, he had struggled against his aching need for her. It had left him restless, more prone to the nightmares that plagued him, and nearly consumed by a dark loneliness that he could not fill. He had hoped that his friends would have alleviated some of this; while they kept him sane, they did not make him well. Indeed, the psychological relief that he had required could only come from his quarian bondmate. So the nightmares continued, and Shepard had suffered in silence and loneliness as the war had raged on and the losses had mounted.

He nodded. "Yes, of course."

"Then you know exactly what I mean when I say that it hurts me. You know that it's not just…what is the word you use? 'Platitude'?" Her voice revealed the question as she said it. John nodded to her, confirming that she was correct. "It's not just some platitude, some thing that I say. And I will gladly accept it if it eases your suffering."

She was right, of course.

Like always.

How did I get so lucky? Maybe I can…finish this. Then pass judgment.

"That meant…" He grimaced as his wavered in a combination of every negative emotion he could feel: loathing, sadness, agony, hopelessness, regret. Always the cold and constant regret. "…EDI." Tears formed at the corners of his eyes as his mouth quivered as the emotion - the raw sorrow - threatened to overwhelm him. "Tali…I m-murdered my friend." Barely breathing, he continued. "And Tali, there was no guess work - the AI was explicit in its explanation. So…I knew exactly what would happen." The commander shook his head in frustration, not believing at first that he - he - could have been capable of such a thing. And finally, he couldn't hold back his grief, his self-loathing, his frustration at how un-fucking fair everything had become. His face, red and taut, stared once again into Tali's eyes, and he was done…just…done.

Images of her flashed through his mind - first as the brilliant blue orb that he had tried to shoot when he first came on board the SR-2, as she steadily asked more probing and astute questions about what it was like to be…alive. He remembered the sense of humor that she had tried to develop. "That was a joke." The way that she had steadily won over Joker, who would come to love her. How she saved them at the Collector base. When she asked him what it meant to love. When she stated, with as much conviction as he had ever heard in another sentient being, that she was willing to die for it - for her friends, for Joker.

As she reassured Tali of the value of herself and her people.

As she danced with Joker.

As she walked alongside him on an unnamed beach, located only in his mind, asking him if it had been worth it.

He thought again of the particular ring that she had given to him. A reminder of home.

A light in the darkness.

And this beautiful spark of life, of love, he had coldly extinguished.

He had snuffed her out.

His body shook, and his eyes were shut as hard as he could make them, trying to dispel the image of his friend as he imagined she had looked as the wave struck her - ending her as she worked in a frenzy trying to save the Normandy and her friends.

Shepard was, as one could expect, wildly unsuccessful.

As Tali encircled him in her arms, rubbing his back as she tried desperately to comfort him, he wailed into her chest.

He was inconsolable.

Through his muffled strains of grief, she could still make out his pained refrain. "Oh God, Tali…what have I done? What am I?"

And then he simply sobbed, repeating the question, over and over again as he gripped her shoulders desperately, grasping for her - his anchor in this maelstrom of horrendous sorrow and grief.

"What have I done?"

Behind her mask, her own tears were streaming down her face. They were for herself, for EDI, for - Ancestors help her - the Geth…but mostly, they were for Shepard. For the brave and caring man that had been torn asunder by a problem with no good solutions. In the end he had chosen, and chosen her. Even if that wasn't what he had intended at the time, that was in fact, the outcome.

Ancestors, he came back to me, but…the price that he paid…

After a time, her saera stopped shaking and with a few labored breaths, finally calmed down. She continued to cradle his head against her chest, running her fingers through hair which, thanks to his stay in the hospital, was the longest she'd ever seen it. She finally broke the silence.

"Keelah, John. I'm so sorry. I…" She had to stop as she gathered her thoughts. "John, this choice that they forced on you, I agree - there was no 'good' choice. None. It was monstrous. But…what happens if you made no choice at all?" She asked this rhetorically, grasping his shoulders as he sat up to face her. "I'm going to wager that all of us would be with our ancestors by now. Or worse."

Sniffling, he nodded, knowing that she was right.

"And as for control? Keelah, John, you're assessment - while grim - was also correct, I think. What if? What if it was batarians attacking Earth? Or any other of a number of nightmare scenarios? And synthesis? Synthesis? John, I can tell you that I would not have been very happy about it. I can also tell you that we quarians in general would not have approved. Nor would we have handled it well." She actually laughed a little. "I mean, can you imagine how Xen would've reacted?"

This elicited a hearty chuckle from Shepard. It was a noise that brought her no small amount of relief. "Yeah, she would've probably tried to run experiments on herself."

She turned more serious again, but this time she would buoy him. "John, you asked what you had done? You did what you have always done. You did the best that you could. You did the best that any of us could. As for EDI? And the Geth? John, they didn't give you a choice, not really. How long have they been doing this?" It was another rhetorical question. "I wouldn't be surprised if they figured out that right about now is when AIs would gain sentience, or at least self-awareness." She thought immediately of the Geth, and the Reapers' timeline of 50,00 years had only been off by less than three centuries. "They planned on EDI. They knew that the Geth would turn to them, as I think that previous artificial lifeforms probably had. They were expected, and maybe even a 'given'. The Reapers were banking on their consistent plan being flawless." She squeezed his shoulders tighter. "They were banking on their 'cycle' doing what it had always done." She paused, touching his cheek with her hand.

"Do you know why they failed, John?" It was rhetorical, and before she answered her own question, she began to remove her mask. When he tried to protest, she put a finger to his lips, silencing his protests before they could begin. Tugging the mask away, she presented him with a face that he knew was the most beautiful face that he had - and would ever - see. Her glowing eyes accented her soft lavender skin, and this perfect face, belonging to this perfect woman, regarded him with love. It was an endless, boundless love. She spoke without the electronic tint provided by her mask, leaving only the raw unfiltered velvet of her voice in his ears. And when she did speak, it was the balm that he so desperately required - a salve against the damage that had been wrought against him. It was something that only she could have provided.

His soul's other half. The half that he hadn't known that he'd needed until his soul encountered hers.

The love of his life.

His saera.

"They failed because they could not account for you. At every turn, you thwarted them, resisted them. You gave them pause. And no matter what you think, there are generations of children that will live because of you. I will live because of you. And I promise you, John, my saera, my beloved…I promise you that I will love you with everything that I am until the day that we meet our ancestors. We will honor them, EDI and Legion, and the Geth…we will remember them. We will carry them in our hearts." She sighed. "Keelah, I can't…I can't make the pain go away, but I will try…I will try to remind you that there are things in this life - in our journey together - other than pain." Her voice became a whisper. "I will try to make the good outweigh all of the suffering. I promise you that."

With her hand still holding his cheek, which was noticeably drier now, she leaned in and planted her lips to his in a kiss that was not "passionate", but was just as full of her love. It was a reminder to him that she still loved him - and would always love him. He returned it in kind.

Her soft lips, her breath against his cheek and her hand against the other, was precisely what Shepard had needed. Through this intimate contact, he could feel every comfort, every soft reassurance that she could give him. It transmitted to his mind that yes, he was loved. He was loved in a truly special and unique way, and it was boundless in its depth. And her love would always be there for him.

When they finally separated - far too soon than either of them would have liked - John once again shifted positions, grunting softly as he sat next to her. He rested his head on her shoulder as she put her mask on. When he spoke again, Tali noticed the change in him.

"For the record," he began in a whisper that still managed to sound remarkably more like himself, "Miss vas Normandy, I'm going to hold you to that. So don't make promises you can't keep."

Eliciting a small laugh, she replied in kind. "John, I fully intend on keeping mine. And I've already contracted you to build me a house. I'm holding you to that." She squeezed his hand. "Bosh'tet."

For John Shepard, Spectre and galactic hero, the loss of his friends and all of the innocents would forever be a wound. It was a wound of the soul, and it was one that would never heal. For him, healing was perhaps not really what he wanted. Instead, he would regard the pain of their losses as a reminder: a reminder to him of their lives, and for EDI, a reminder of her humanity and her friendship.

He now just hoped that he had enough black on his ledger to outweigh so much damnable red.