"Three major fractures along his right leg, more in his rib cage, arms are a mess, a few cracked vertebrae. Bone weave implant substructure barely intact, probably all that kept every single bone in his body from shattering."
"We'll have to hope that the lattice stays together long enough. There's nothing we can do here."
So tired. Exhaustion laid over Shepard with almost crushing, suffocating weight, so oppressive he almost couldn't move. All he could do was lay there and try to push consciousness through the daze overlaying everything around him. All he could do was trust the soldiers around him and hope for the best.
"God, how is he even still alive? Burns over at least sixty-five percent of his body."
"Get more medi-gel in him. It'll help stop the bleeding and spare the poor man some of the pain."
"Yes sir."
Chaos surrounded him, movement whirring in every direction, so quickly he couldn't begin to hope to cling on to any semblance of stability or understanding. He caught bits of their conversations to try and put together an idea of just how bad off he was.
"What little remains of his left eye is absolutely mangled. Severe trauma to the skull, the socket's almost caved in, but the swelling's contained."
He had lost his eye. At least that was explained now. A dose of medi-gel that would likely break almost every genetic modification law pumped into his body, washing his nerves with anesthetic that saved him from a level of pain that might have finished him off then and there. He barely made out the harsh light of a military vessel glowing against the dull metal structure of a causeway before he finally dropped into unconsciousness, able only because the pain was consumed by the gel. Finally, he rested.
"Never before have so many come together from all corners of the galaxy..."
Trees fenced in a gray, ash-strewn wasteland, above which only hung darkness, the canopy of strangely lit foliage tousling in a lost breeze that carried the dust through the whispering leaves. Roots curled into ruined soil at his feet, black and snaking into the gray soot that almost floated on stray currents of stale air. This was a dream he had had before, a dream he thought he would be free from by now, through the release of either death or victory. Wavering shadows, vague figments with distant voices, surrounded him in nameless, faceless mass. Every death, every failure that had brought him here, every soul lost to a hopeless fight clung desperately to his thoughts, eyeless faces of smoke and bitter remorse leering at him, demanding retribution for the sacrifice of their lives. He looked on helplessly. He tried to speak, to explain, to beg their forgiveness, but words failed him utterly beneath the harsh stares of heartless, hopeless, forlorn souls to whom he owed too much. All he could do was watch beneath the trees.
This was different, though. Embers no longer rained from the overbearing heavens as they had before. The child, whose face had lurked in the depths of every doubt he held too strongly too since Earth was first attacked, shifted into view just behind the mephitic wall of baleful memory that enclosed him, peeking through the wavering humanoid forms of dismal smoke. Damp with tears, his eyes pleaded for salvation from a hero who could not succeed. Alone, fenced in by those victimized by his warpath, Shepard strained against the smog, trying to reach the young, pained face that he had failed through the wall of malice and woe. He had no answers for them. He only wanted to save them...
Lights flickered and dawned here and there in the spectral crowd, dim and fiery, shooting incendiary light through the miasma. He saw them emerge one by one from the points of brilliant deliverance, faces of those he had united, those he had brought together against a single enemy of insurmountable horror: Primarch Victus and his squadrons of turian soldiers strode forth from one, Urdnot Wrex and the dwindling krogan from another, while yet a third heralded Aria T'loak followed by the leaders of the Blue Suns, Eclipse, and the Blood Pack. A fourth shone out, coalescing into the faces of every ex-Cerberus member that defected to their cause, headed by Jacob Taylor and Dr. Brynn Cole. A fifth brought memories of Alliance loyal faces that he had liberated from the numerous planets threatened in the war. A sixth, a seventh, then an eighth, gave way to more than he could see through the dimming distance, and from each strode the images of every single force he had assembled, and their brilliance shone through the throng of imposing darkness in a torrent of absolving light.
Brightest of all, standing just before him as he looked on in stunned, awe-stricken silence, he watched the crew of the SSV Normandy, his comrades, his friends, step forth in heroic glory before him. Those he had grown so close to through the trials of such devastation, those he considered brothers and sisters, dearest companions, stood before him and smiled, every one of them. Pride beamed in their eyes as they looked upon their commander, and the shadows faded behind them. Dead and living, all that once called the Normandy their vessel and Shepard their commander, stood before him in glowing, forgiving effulgence to cleanse away the guilt...
"We know the score... We know this is goodbye..."
Kaidan stood at the forefront, smiling, as those words echoed in the primordial distance. Major Alenko, brother in arms, comrade from the beginning, who had stood beside him through calamitous perdition, who had turned his back in fear and distrust, who had returned heavy with regret and acceptance, now gleamed before him in gentle beckoning, bright brown eyes shimmering admiration and affection. Soldier... Friend... Lover... No commander, no man, could hope for a better companion. That he had been so lucky as to know this man, to turn to him in strife and need, dawned a new peace within him.
"Don't leave me behind."
"No matter what happens, know that I love you. Always."
"I love you too..."
The reverberations of that last moment flooded through that forlorn limbo, sweeping away the manifested memories one by one until all that was left was the aurora of golden light and the lingering vision of Kaidan, following the others into bright dissolution. They were all gone. The shadows, the whispers, the glowing reminders of all who he hadn't failed washing away the vapors of those he had, all gone with the last vestiges of that forlorn moment. The moment he knew he had, at least, saved the man he had grown to love, and the best crew he could have ever begged the fates for.
"You did good son. You did good. I'm... Proud of you..."
The lonesome, empty expanse of dusky waste, shot through with the glorious, resplendent light of daybreak from beyond the towering trees, left him facing the solitary memory of David Anderson, Alliance Admiral and the best damned superior that Shepard had known. Alone through much of his youth, Shepard cultivated a bond with the Admiral that he never had the chance to build with anyone else. The man that pushed him to accomplish so much, who expected the inconceivable from him and knew too well his ruthless determination, his cruel, grim resolve, stood at the very last with him, died by his own hand at the whim of a madman. Beyond every other admirer, every other frothing fan or oblivious fool, no other could have said those words to him with the gravity that Anderson had. No other voice could have carried nearly the weight with such a simple declaration.
He was left alone, then, in the company of only the morning sun surmounting a black horizon. He slumped to the earth below him, kicking up a plume of ash and dust, staring up into the ink that blotted out the sky, and for the first time in this dream, he saw stars. Billions of stars, strewn in broad strokes across a glowing infinity of space despite the dawning sun. The clouds scattered at long last, igniting the heavens with a swath of the Milky Way so vibrant it bound him in magical, beautiful suspension.
"Did you do everything you could?" A voice broke the now tranquil silence. Shepard tore his vision from the majestic cosmos hovering above to lay upon a reflection of himself. Civilian clothes, relaxed, normal looking, an image that he had begun to think had been far too rare. Vibrant green eyes were calm with a smile on pale lips as his own form walked closer, sitting across from him. "Did you accomplish what you had to, whatever the cost?"
"Yes," he finally heard himself retort.
"Then move on. You did the impossible, no matter what price you had to pay, and you saved the galaxy when they walked blindly into their own death." The pale, angular features of his face regarded him with a calloused scrutiny that was, somehow, at peace. "You got the job done."
"But, everyone that died. I could have saved more of them..."
"You could have done a lot. They could have done more. What do possibilities matter now? It's done. For all that died, more survived. So a few had to be sacrificed to save the majority."
"Is that really the way things should be done?"
"It's how it had to be done. It wouldn't have worked any other way, and you know that." The reflection chuckled a bit. Laughter. How long had it bee since he really laughed? "That's why they dumped it on your shoulders. No one else could have done it, because no one else would have been willing to sacrifice."
"Some sacrifices are too great. How can I know that I didn't cross that line?"
"Because you succeeded." So final, so matter of fact, Shepard couldn't find an argument to bolster his misery. Not in the face of the very creed that drove him through this entire, twisted catastrophe. "It was war. People die during war. You can't change that, and you damn well know it. You knew it when you started putting up a fight that no one else would. What matters is that you came out on the other side with so many others."
"You're right," he replied at length, a duration filled with gentle silence.
"No, you're right. Stop doubting that." The image of himself stood up, a hand extended down to him, the very hand offered so many times to others that counted on him. It was strange to be on the other end. He took the help and got to his feet again, staring into his own verdant eyes that shone forth the surety he had almost lost before the end. "They made their choices, just like you did. Don't pay for their decisions."
"But, I led them. They did what they did because I told them to."
"And they followed because they knew no one else had a chance in hell." The doppelganger took a step back, arms crossed over his chest, a challenge on his expression and posture. "Can you honestly tell me that there would be a galaxy left if you hadn't done exactly what you did?"
"Maybe. There could have been other ways."
"Well that's not how it happened. Get up. Move on." With that, the figure turned into the steadily growing light of dawn, silhouetting against the brightness, leaving only a lingering afterthought.
"They're waiting for you."
