Three months after the attack

"So you're coming?"

Tali didn't really want to, but she had already skulked off on her own last shift, so she could hardly deny her brother a second time. "Yeah, I'm coming."

"Great!"

He beamed at her through the mask before turning around and enthusiastically striding down the corridor. She stood and looked after him for while. Han had made true on his promise these last weeks; there hadn't been a day since he'd arrived where he hadn't reached out to her. At first, she hadn't really expected it to do any good, but eventually he had managed to get her to do something else than sit on her bed for a change, and she had actually had some fun.

I'm lucky to have him.

For now, she took an elevator three decks downwards to get to the gym. When Han had taken her for a run the other day, she had noticed that while her physique would've still gotten her into the marines with flying colors, she had definitely lost some endurance over her past months of inactivity. Whatever the future held, she would meet it in her best possible state. John's regime had formed her into a wiry weapon of a woman, and she wouldn't let that waste away.

The future.

The pain the John's and the Normandy's fate caused her had dulled a bit over time, but her hopelessness appeared to be here to stay, and frankly she didn't think this was her being overly emotional; quite the contrary, she was being realistic. Some days, she just wanted to scream out at everyone, warn them of what was coming for them. But the admiralty board had made it very clear to her that they expected her to keep the secret, and at the end of the day Tali knew they were right.

What's the point in warning them of something we are completely powerless to stop anyway.

The admirals hadn't put it like that obviously, and Tali was sure they had more reasons than that. But to her, it all felt like she was playing, acting as if nothing had changed when in reality it would all end soon, be it in a couple of years or a couple of decades or even centuries.

The thought of living life waiting for the day, not knowing if it would arrive within her lifetime or that of her descendants, utterly bewildered her. The other shift, she had woken up in the middle of her sleep cycle, vividly remembering details of a dream where she had married some other engineer and started a family, just for the Reapers to arrive the day their daughter was to receive her first suit.

Stepping into the large room that had been created – several walls that hadn't been relevant for stability had been torn out and repurposed elsewhere – to house the Neema's athletic grounds, she stopped to take in the scene. To her shame that now sat in, she had only been here once in almost three months that she now served on the ship. There were dozens of people running the course that had been painted on the ground along the walls, making their rounds orbiting the various machines and countless different weights taking up about half of the room. The other half was taken up by a large square occupied with migrant fleet marines receiving a thorough workout from an instructor so built that he would've put many of the human lifters she had met on the Normandy to shame – quite the achievement, given that humans were not only taller than Quarians were with the conditions now, but also just of a naturally thicker and wider frame. Tali actually tear herself away from the view of the man, because the fact that he had managed to scrounge enough food to get this big was boggling her mind. Quarians had enough on their plates ever day to be well nourished, but how in the ancestors name anyone could get their hands on enough protein to get this big was beyond her. This and the fact that their suits had been conceptualized from the ground up for normal sized people were the main reasons bodybuilding wasn't really popular with Quarians.

Keelah, I hope nobody saw me stare like that.

She took to the course and got running. Tali had intended to push herself to find out where she was standing at the moment, but she soon had an altogether different motivation. Keeping up a challenging pace that had her continuously overtaking other runners on the track, the strain on her muscles and her heavy breath anchored her firmly in the here and now. It was harder than it should have been, and soon her breaths grew rugged and porrly controlled. This was the pace John had dictated them all to configure on the Normandy's treadmills for their training. Towards the end, she had been able to keep it for half an hour before having to slow down. Disappointed and somewhat shocked, she had to give in at the eighteen minute mark or she would've fallen over. Angry with herself, she resolved to at least keep moving until the time was up, and so she trod along with everyone else for the rest of the thirty minutes. Even this proved a challenge, but she'd be damned before she endure the mocking looks of those she had sped past earlier.

Finally, the time ran out. There was still half a round to go, but the room wasn't that big - they were on a ship after all – so half a round merely took another minute. She reached the end and blissfully slumped on one of the benches bolted to the wall. For a while, there was only her greedy breaths, the fading burn in her legs and the tickling feeling of her suit absorbing the sweat. A surprise to herself, a grin found it's way on her lips. She hadn't felt this alive in months.

Eventually, she straightened her back and flicked her wrist to bring up her omnitools display. During the run, she had gotten a message. When the checked it, she stopped for a second; it was from her father. He had been puzzling her lately; when Tali had arrived on the fleet, her father had hurried to be there, but when they had actually met in person he hadn't have much to say. She hadn't minded it at the time, and she didn't really mind now; given his behavior for the last seven years, she hadn't exactly expected him to turn out a counselor all out of a sudden.

Still, the fact that he hadn't messaged her in a week, and for two weeks before that, was unusual even for him. Tali knew that he was working on something new, but did not know what. Her best bet was that it might have something to do with the Geth data she had gotten from John. She opened the message.

Tali,

I have made sure that Gerrel wouldn't have you transferred these last months, because I wanted you to have time to recollect yourself. But my current project has advanced to a point where I can no longer in good conscience do without your contribution, and Gerrel has plans for you too. If you have reservations, let me tell you that in my experience the best thing for you to be doing right now is working at something that will take your mind off it all, though from what Gerrel has told me about your exploits on the Neema, it seems you have found that out by yourself already. But your skills are wasted as just another engineer. Your combat experience, expertise with the Geth and experience with cross cultural relations make you indispensable for me as well as very attractive to what Gerrel is planning. I will leave it to Gerrel to explain your new post to you, you can call me afterwards.

For know, just know that these two tasks are not directly connected to each other, but you will be able to do what I require from you on the side while you work for Gerrel.

Tali leant back against the wall and blew out her cheeks. She let her gaze wonder over the room and the marines who were still being grilled.

She wasn't surprised that her father already had plans for her, and this time she wasn't bothered in the slightest, to the contrary. Her run had only served to remind her of the fact that no matter what life would or wouldn't hold now, she couldn't keep slacking around.

After sending a quick message to Han'Gerrels office, she got up to meet her brother and his friends in the mess hall and resolved to try to have a good time today.

Much later, god knows where

The cool breeze gently blew past his nose, and he closed his eyes to relish the feeling. He knew not when he had last felt this serene. In fact, he now realized, he knew nothing. Confusion settled in, disrupting the calm he had felt before.

Where am I? How did I get here and how long have I been here?

He realized that the breeze was the first thing he remembered at all and that he had no idea what had been before.

I came from...no...where did I even come from? I must've come from somewhere...

He tried, but couldn't for the life of him remember. All he could come up with was a dreadful certainty that something terrible had happened. He started walking; not that he had any idea where he was going, but he had to move. As he went, his head spun around trying to take in the scenery. He was walking a footpath in the middle of a thick, dark forest. There were all kinds of trees; tall, ones, some of them dark and thin and with needles, others thick and with wide crowns of green and brown leaves, but also shorter ones with roots that completely covered the ground in every direction and gigantic, thick, meaty leaves. He had no idea where he knew this from, but something told him that he should've remembered the names of these specie, and that they did not belong in the same forest at all.

He pressed forward, simply following the path. The forest was engulfed in a slight fog that was thick enough to become an impenetrable obstacle to the human eye at about a hundred meters distance, but with all the vegetation around, that hardly made a difference.

He walked for what felt like forever. Eventually, he stumbled onto a clearing; to the right of the path, there was a small lake. Following an impulse, he stepped to the waterside and looked down at his reflection in the water.

A tall man wearing blue jeans and a white t-shirt was looking back at him. Black hair kept very short, a prominent scar running from his left forehead onto his scalp, and the broad build of a man used to physical activity day in and day out. He gasped and fell back, tripping over something and landing on his rear end.

"John Shepard.", he croaked out. "I'm John Shepard..."

Only now realizing that all this time he not only hadn't had a clue who he was, but hadn't even noticed that fact, he spent little time dwelling on it – instead, he was getting nearly overwhelmed by all the memories bombarding him. That hiking trip on earth where he had seen all these trees – save for the fleshy ones. They weren't from earth, they were bacontrees – a silly name given to them by the colonists of the planet they hailed from – Mindoir. There was no time to wonder how all these trees had ended up in one place, however; the raid was flashing before his eyes. Boot camp. Akuze. Elysium. Eden Prime. Virmire.

"Rudimentary creatures of blood and flesh. You touch my mind, fumbling in ignorance..."

He trembled. The Reapers...

John closed his eyes, better memories coming in now. Hannah. Doctor Chakwas. Kaiden Alenko, Ashley Williams. Wrex. Garrus, Liara. Tali. Moreau. He groaned; remembering all these people was a joy, but he couldn't shake the feeling he had been having the entire time and that was about to peak. Something terrible had happened, he knew it, and he was about to remember it.

Amada.

John remembered the mission from the council; their entry into the system; the alarm as an unidentified, dreadnought-sized vessel had assaulted the Normandy out of nowhere. Joker had initiated evasive maneuvers, and then...

What then? He did not know. The string of his memories ended right before anything was about to happen, and picked back up again here in this forest. He whirled around, trying to make out anything anywhere; he knew not even what he was looking for. Panic flared up in him and made him breath heavier. He cursed under his breath, and soon after, out loud.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck...Fuck!"

Discipline set in and he forced himself to slow his breathing and think. Not that it helped much. Nothing made sense. John had not the faintest idea what this place was supposed to be or how he could've possibly gotten here. He started running; who cared where, just further down the path. There had to be something somewhere that would help him to make sense of any of this.

"Commander, wait!"

He stopped dead in his tracks and turned, stunned from disbelief. At the bank of the small lake which was all of a sudden populated by a family of ducks that definitely hadn't been there before, stood a wooden bench that also hadn't been there as he had ran past that spot just a second prior. And on the bench sat Kaidan Alenko.

"Alenko."

The man grinned lopsidedly. "Good to see you again, Commander. You look surprised to see me."

John took a couple of steps towards the bench before stopping again and struggling for words.

"But...you...you died! The bomb...there was no way you could've..."

Alenko just shrugged and looked out over the water. "I know, right? Believe me, I don't know what to make of it myself."

"B-but...how long have you been here?"

Alenko furrowed his brow. "What do you mean, I've been sitting here the entire time. No idea how you managed to miss me..." He slowed down, a skeptic look making it's way on his face. "Wait...to be honest, I don't know how long I've been here...I thought..." He shook his head. "Listen Commander, I got blown up and now I'm here. That's all I got."

John felt the ground give out under him and saved himself by sitting down next to the Lieutenant. He clenched his fists in confusion. This all felt so real, but...

"Are we dead, Alenko? Is this...heaven? The afterlife?"

The other man took a while to answer. "I'm not sure...I mean, I'm pretty sure I am dead..." - he snorted humorlessly - "...but I'm not sure about you. Don't you have any idea what happened to you after the attack began?"

John's eyes narrowed. "How do you even know of an attack?"

Kaidan looked about as confused as John felt. "I...don't know. But I don't think this is the afterlife. I don't believe in that anyway. And even if I did, why is it just the two of us? Makes no sense. No, I..." he stopped for a second and cleared his throat. "I think I'm dead and you're not. I think this is a dream."

"That...would explain a lot. Doesn't seem like any dream I've ever had, though."

"How can you know? Maybe you've had countless dreams like this and just don't remember."

A small smile tugged at Shepard's lips. "Good to see you haven't changed, even if it's just...whatever this is."

They sat quiet for and watched the ducks for a while.

"I don't think that attack ended well for us, Alenko." The other man did not reply. "If I'm really dreaming, I must've gotten knocked out cold or something like that. Why else would I not remember what happened."

"Hm."

John looked at Alenko and raised an eyebrow.

"You don't seem too interested."

A shrug. " We won't solve the riddle now anyway. At some point you'll wake up, and then you'll see."

John snorted. "Pragmatic. Can't argue with that, I suppose."

Alenko chuckled. "Good. Because there's actually something we should talk about."

John sighed. "Alenko, I swear, if there had been any way...I...I hated making that decision. But at the end of the day, Ashley had the bomb, so - "

The other man put a hand on John's shoulder. When he turned, he found Alenko looking him in the eyes intensely. "Not that. But if it helps you to hear it: You made the right call, and I've got no hard feelings. I told you I don't regret a thing, and I meant it."

Shepard nodded and looked down, relieved. "So...what is it then you wanted to talk about?"

Alenko leant back and grinned. "You and Tali, of course. This is getting hard to watch. You obviously don't realize, so I'll give you some good advice: She likes you a lot."

"I know that."

He chuckled. "You know exactly what I mean, you idiot."

John raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Now now, Alenko. Didn't think I'd ever hear you talk like that."

"Please. I'm dead, and probably just a figment of your imagination anyway. Protocol be damned. Don't change the topic."

"Jesus Christ, Alenko. I am her captain!"

"So what, I think she's into that."

"You spent enough time talking to her, you know what being a captain means to the Quarians. It wouldn't be - "

Uncharacteristically, Alenko straightup interrupted him. " What's going on with you? Are you this blind or are you actually looking for excuses? Christ's sake Shepard, what do you think how many Quarians call their captain by their first name and get to cry on his shoulder? Sitting on his bed?"

Shepard couldn't help but laugh. "First you're telling me I made the right call on Virmire, now that I'm not actually mad and should totally try and get with Tali. Sounds like something a figment of my imagination would say."

Alenko laughed with him. "It's confirmed, then. Doesn't make any of it less true, though."

John looked out over the lake. "No...I'll...I'll have to think about it, I guess..."

He trailed off, confused. Hadn't that lake been smaller just before? He noticed now that clouds had floated their way; one of them moved in front of the sun and dimmed it's light.

"Anyway...you're sounding like Chakwas right now."

"I certainly do hope so. Please get me under a scanner if I ever don't."

He jumped and whirled around. On the bench he had just sat on with Kaidan Alenko was Dr. Karin Chakwas, looking up to him with a somewhat skeptic expression, as if he was behaving unreasonably.

"For fuck's - ". He ran his fingers over his short hair. "This is some dream alright."

Chakwas shrugged. "Lucid dreams aren't uncommon, you know."

"Can you tell me..." he stopped himself. She obviously couldn't. "I just wish I'd wake up already..."

Chakwas opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off by the noise of thunder. It was as loud as if a lightning had hit directly next to them; John jerked and looked up at the sky. It had gotten darker rapidly; by now, it was pitch black. A thick raindrop burst on his scalp, and then several others all over his body as the rain quickly increased in intensity.

"Dream or not, this is getting unpleasant. We should- "

Another roll of thunder, this time announced by a lightning striking somewhere between the forested hills in the distance and not as loud.

The weather doesn't give a damn about logic either. Where did the damn fog even go so fast!?

John turned to Chakwas, only to find that neither she nor the bench were still there. He looked over the water and the ducks were gone as well.

Am I going insane?

Thunder again, this time so loud it hurt his ears; and there was something off about it.

He covered his ears, but it helped little. The next cacophony of thunder hit him like a brick wall. Stunned, he fell to the ground; but as he fell, he wondered.

Are that voices?

Another wave came rolling in, and he was now sure that they were voices, even if he couldn't understand a word. He stayed lying on his back in the mud, looking up to the sky. The rain had completely drenched him by now. Light flared up somewhere in the clouds above him, and next thing he knew, it came striking down, accompanied by the loudest round of thunder yet, and engulfed him in perfect white.

Beep. Beep.

John blinked. Glaring light was blinding him.

"...-wareness of his surroundings. My god Miranda, I think he's waking up."

He was still lying, but not in the mud anymore.

"Dammit, Wilson. He is not ready. Give him the sedative."

He wasn't alone. Two people. He couldn't see very well.

"Shepard. Don't try to move..."

Whatever she said next got lost in the noise of his blood rushing in his ears.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The frequency of that sound increased. Somehow, it worried him. His chest burned. Muffled voices. He couldn't have said how much time passed, it could've been several minutes or just a couple of seconds, but eventually the noise in his skull calmed down and the pain in his lungs eased.

"...dropping. Stats falling back into normal range. That was too close...we almost lost him."

John could see somewhat clearly now, but his entire body was feeling heavier by the moment.

I don't think...this...is part of the dream anymore.

One of the people came into his field of view. A woman, she stared down at him, looking concerned; he had seen her before. But where?

"I told you your estimates were off. Run the numbers again."

Vostralska! It's the one who killed that salarian.

The edges of his vision came creeping inwards. More was said, but it only reached him as muffled noise in the distance, and then the blackness took him back.