Chapter Thirty-Three
One Bad-ass Scar

Omega, Sahrabarik

Since spending the morning in a mind-numbing state of boredom, Mycea Kasos' day had improved immeasurably. The Normandy had just docked. Even though she had seen the ship years earlier, the sight of the sleek frigate manoeuvring into one of Omega's docking bays had her breath lodged in her throat. She kept her face pressed against the glass, watching the frigate's every move eagerly.

"Anyone would think you've never seen an Alliance vessel before." Shepard was standing just behind her, watching without any apparent enthusiasm.

"It's the Normandy."

"It's just a ship," Shepard replied. Her dismissal was clearly forced.

Shepard lasted only a few more moments before she joined Myke near the window. "Looks like she's taken a battering."

Myke had watched hundreds, if not thousands of ships arrive at Omega. While the Normandy wasn't in the worst state by far, the damage to its hull was extensive. Black scorch marks had seared away much of the paint work on the side Myke could see. There were minor hull breaches from prow to stern and several appendages had been sheared off altogether. Two of its thrusters had gone dark. Although Myke knew little about piloting ships, she could still admire the skill it must have required to keep it under control.

Shepard remained quiet – even more so than usual. Myke discreetly turned to watch her friend. The former soldier's nose was now squashed against the glass. Tears were slowly rolling down her cheek. A quiet sob suddenly caught in her throat.

Myke stood and watched awkwardly. Ignore the fact that she's crying? It seemed callous. Soldiers don't want you to see them crying. Myke didn't even know where she'd heard that stupid mantra. All she knew was that Shepard wasn't a soldier, not anymore. She made her decision. Without a word, Myke closed the already short distance between them and wrapped an arm tightly around Shepard's waist. Hugging was a foreign experience. Too tight? Not tight enough? Or is this just too weird? Her questions were answered a moment later when she felt Shepard relax into the touch.

"Hey, why are we one-level too high? The crew will be disembarking down there," Myke pointed out.

"I'm dead," Shepard replied simply. Brutally. "I can't go parading around in front of the whole crew. Liara and Samara will greet them."

Myke pulled away in surprise. "How can you stand there and say that? Those are your friends down there?"

Shepard smiled sadly. "This is killing me, Myke, but it's for the best."

Myke sighed, unable to fully appreciate Shepard's resolve for the simple fact that she thought the human was being fucking ridiculous. Shepard's jaw was set stubbornly. Myke let it go. Silence settled again. Almost in tandem, the pair went back to squashing their noses against the glass. Now straining for a glimpse of the first crewmembers to emerge from Normandy's airlock. Myke suppressed a simmering jealously when she saw Samara. She imagined that she was the one standing down there next to Liara. Ha! Those humans would all be asking themselves who the fuck is that? The jealousy didn't linger. Not when Myke reminded herself that Shepard had asked her to come to the docks. Shepard needed someone, and had asked her personally. She was exactly where she was meant to be. Myke glanced across at Shepard to check whether she needed another hug, but the tears were already drying on her pale cheeks.

"Don't look down now." Shepard turned, caught Myke staring at her, and grinned. "It's probably better if you just keep looking at me."

"Better? What do you-" Myke turned, recognised exactly what Shepard was referring to, and slammed her face against the glass almost painfully in aid of getting a better view. "Commandos…there are commandos coming out of the Normandy. Gorgeous, battle-hardened commandos in their combat leathers. At least half a dozen, if not more."

"Told you not to look," Shepard added. "Now it's your turn to wipe the drool off your face, Kasos."


Without having set foot on Omega, Sam had already seen enough of the place. She caught glimpses of bright lights and frenetic activity from the Normandy's viewing ports. It wasn't enough to disguise Omega's underlying nature. Nor could she allow herself to feel any sort of relief at having survived Gurkan. Lingering guilt and fear kept her stomach tied into painful knots.

With the Normandy docked safely, Sam slipped away quietly and made her way down to the med-bay. She had no desire to join those crew members jostling for furlough – seeking a chance to lose themselves in the oblivion of alcohol at some place called Afterlife. Her thoughts didn't extend much further beyond the wellbeing of her Captain.

The med-bay wasn't the hive of activity Sam had expected. Three of the beds were occupied – one with a commando, one with Sarah Campbell and the other with Ashley. All three were unconscious, but apparently peacefully so. Nor was Sam the only one with Ashley on her mind. Commander Kurin was in a chair next to Ashley's bed, so exhausted that she'd gone to sleep with her head resting on the edge of the bed.

The asari awoke with a start when she heard footsteps, looking dazed for a few moments before her frosty exterior returned. As though she hadn't intended to be there at all, Kurin rose quickly and left without even acknowledging Sam.

Dr Chakwas sat at her desk, looking drawn but alert. She swivelled in her chair. "Chief. It's about time you came to get that treated."

"Treated?" Why did she even need treatment? Other than for the crippling guilt which couldn't be treated with medi-gel. Sam belatedly realised she was trembling.

"Come and sit down, Samantha." Chakwas patted the edge of an empty bed.

As Sam obliged, she caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror and stopped. Her scalp, just above her ear, had been laid open in a jagged, raw wound. At some point during the firefight, she'd been hit. Sam had no memory of the impact. She felt no pain, even though it looked as though it ought to be painful. The wound had been bleeding profusely and much of the right side of her head was covered in dried blood. Sam's knees suddenly buckled. Chakwas reached out with a surprisingly strong grip, preventing her from hitting the deck. Nothing could help her churning stomach. Moments later, Sam vomited noisily into a bowl, seemingly procured magically by Chakwas. In reality, the doctor was just adept at recognising someone on the verge of throwing up.

Sam finished retching up the meal she didn't remember eating. Chakwas swapped the bowl for a damp towel, which Sam gratefully used. Again, it was almost like magic. Both dirt and fatigue were wiped away at the same time.

"Why don't you lie down while I see to that," Chakwas suggested.

Sam shook her head stubbornly. "I'm fine, Dr Chakwas."

"Samantha, lie down." Clearly it hadn't been a suggestion.

Only when Sam was stretched out on the bio bed, with the soft gel moulding beneath her body, did she realise how utterly exhausted she was. "Captain Williams?" Sam murmured as she fought to keep her eyes open.

"She'll survive," Chakwas replied perfunctorily. "Although when she wakes up she'll probably wish she were dead."

"Hangover?"

"One very pissed off doctor." Chakwas obviously wasn't pleased at her advice being ignored.

"I wouldn't want to be Ashley," Sam replied, wincing as Chakwas began cleaning the side of her head. "Doctor Chakwas? Can stressful situations force someone to become a different person? To do something they wouldn't ordinarily be capable of?"

Chakwas responded with a patient smile. Sam reminded herself that the woman was a medical doctor, not a psychotherapist. She felt guilty for asking.

"Yes and no. Sometimes people react differently when under pressure, but more often than not it simply serves as a spark, bringing out what was there all along."

What was there all along? Sam clearly remembered the precise, detached manner in which she had lifted her pistol and fired. For all her lessons with Ashley, she'd never discovered the knack of shooting with a pistol. Her arm was never steady enough. Yet in that moment, her arm had been as solid as a rock. It had been easy. Three effortless jerks of her finger. One dead Krogan.

"I just shot him." Sam didn't remember consciously forming the words. Once past her lips, once she said them aloud, they hit her like a ton of bricks. Her eyes burned, giving her only a moment of warning before her body was racked by full blown sobs that shook her small frame. Sam tried to apologise, but she couldn't force the words past the sobs.

Chakwas laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I'm going to give you a minor sedative, Samantha. Just something to help you sleep."

Sam panicked, trying to bolt upright. "I can't go to sleep without brushing my teeth!"

Chakwas placed a gentle hand on her chest. Sam then felt something against her neck, then the tingling sensation that followed. Her bitter anger at not being allowed to brush her teeth lasted for only a moment before a comfortable warmth descended. Sleep sounded like the most wonderful suggestion anyone had ever made. To forget everything.


The sleep that followed was deep and blissfully dreamless. It wasn't until Sam fully regained consciousness on the other side of sleep that she appreciated just how exhausted she had been. Even though she heard the quiet murmurs of others in the room, Sam was in no hurry to open her eyes. She lingered in the warmth. Someone had taken the trouble to remove her boots and cover her with a blanket. Further sleep was a distinct possibility until Sam reminded herself that she was filthy. Her stomach then rumbled – apparently she was also ravenous. Not to mention the whole teeth cleaning disaster. Sam passed the tip of her tongue over her teeth and winced. It was the final straw. She opened her eyes. The lights in the med-bay were mercifully dim. Sam made out two figures standing in the centre of the room. One was clearly Chakwas, the other appeared to be one of the commandos. Then, a familiar voice tugged at Sam's gut. Soft and undeniably sexy, but off limits. Always off limits.

Wearily, Sam propped herself up on her elbows. Her vision cleared. The asari definitely wasn't one of the commandos. It was Liara T'Soni.

Although Sam felt an instinctive pleasure upon seeing Liara, she winced at being seen wearing her filthy merc outfit and with un-brushed teeth. It was too late to feign sleep, or make an escape, Liara was already approaching. Sam was determined to at least get out of bed.

"Samantha," Liara greeted her quietly. "It is wonderful to see you."

As Sam worried about smelling foul, Liara drew her in for a warm hug. Having only ever had the opportunity to wrap her arms around the stunning asari once before, Sam couldn't contain the inevitable thrill that followed. Her libido – the one thing that apparently still worked, despite everything.

"I have been hearing rumours about your actions on Gurkan," Liara continued. "It would seem that we have much to thank you for."

Sam's mouth worked, but no sound emerged. What was there to thank her for? Shooting an unsuspecting Krogan who was just trying to get laid? Or having her memories read by an unhinged immortal being before crying like a child?

Sam hung her head, unable to meet Liara's gaze any longer. "It great to see you, Liara, but I need to hit the shower," she mumbled. And brush my teeth.

The med-bay door opened. Yet another person entered. Sam waited for Chakwas to berate the newcomer for disturbing her patients, but nothing happened. Even more unusual, the individual wore a hood drawn up over her head. A hood? Whilst walking around the Normandy? As Sam watched, slender fingers reached up to draw the hood back. It was a young woman Sam didn't recognise. Despite the fact that she wasn't Normandy crew, neither Liara nor Chakwas reacted. Even more disturbing was the fact that the stranger was staring at Sam as though she knew her. Then the woman smiled, and some element of recognition finally registered.

"That haircut suits you, Traynor."

It was the voice that drilled straight through to Sam's core. However, something about it would not register. It was impossible. The individual in question was dead. Sam had witnessed first-hand the colossal inferno that consumed the Crucible. No one could have survived that. Not even Commander Shepard. Yet this woman spoke like her. Looked like her – at least when she smiled. Sam had only ever known Shepard with her face ravaged by scars. The person standing in front of her was unblemished, looking even younger that Sam herself. It's impossible. Sam looked again to both Liara and Chakwas, both simply stared expectantly. They were waiting for her to respond. It was impossible, but it had happened.

"Comman-" Sam stopped herself. She found it surprisingly difficult to say it aloud. As though she was speaking to a dead woman. "Commander Shepard?"

Shepard's smile broadened. "Traynor…or should I say Chief Traynor these days?"

Sam couldn't force her limbs to move. When she did eventually jump off the side of the bed, her legs gave way beneath her. She hit the floor heavily. Shepard was at her side in a heartbeat, picking her up, hugging her fiercely. Sam was still in a state of shock. Her concerns wouldn't let her relax.

"Shepard…" Sam felt her body tremble slightly. "Please…" She pushed her back weakly, staring down at the floor, at her grimy, entirely inappropriate attire. "You just had to choose this moment didn't you? With me looking like…" Sam went from being tongue-tied, to being unable to stop herself talking. "I stink…and I haven't brushed my teeth since…well, I just really need to brush them."

Shepard applied gentle pressure beneath Sam's chin, tilting her gaze upwards. "Traynor…Sam, I really don't care how ripe you are. We're marines remember? We're supposed to smell bad."

A laugh escaped Sam's mouth. She had found out Commander Shepard was still alive, and her only concern was how bad she smelled. She needed to work on her priorities.

There were any one of a dozen or more questions Sam could have asked at that point, but none of them seemed important. Shepard was alive. "You look-" Super, super hot. Stop it, Liara is standing right there! "-different. In a good way of course."

"Thanks, Sam."

"The rest of the crew will want to see you, Joker! Cortez…and Captain Williams of course, when she wakes up," Sam said hurriedly.

"Yeah, about that," Shepard began. "I need to keep this between us…Dr Chakwas and you so far. The whole situation is…complicated and the fewer people that know about me at this stage, the better."

"But the Alliance, they'll want to know that you're alive," Sam suggested.

A stony expression enveloped Shepard's features. "The Alliance doesn't need to know anything about me, period. Understood, Traynor?" Sam had forgotten how hard-edged Shepard's voice could be.

Sam was slightly taken aback, "Yes, ma'am. Absolutely."

Shepard's demeanour softened. "You don't need to call me ma'am."

"Understood…Shepard," Sam replied. Hours earlier she'd been in a firefight with mercs, now she was standing in front of a dead woman. It was turning out to be one hell of a day. "But I will be seeing you…around. On Omega?"

"Definitely. Liara wanted to debrief you as soon as you woke up." Shepard cast a glance towards the asari. "But I managed to talk her out of it. You'll have twenty-four hours before I let her sink her claws into you. So go…brush your teeth, shower, get some more rest."

"Thank you," Sam replied sincerely. Although she was slightly unnerved at the fact that she didn't mind the thought of being hooked by Liara's claws.

"And, Sam?" Sam stopped walking as Shepard smiled warmly. "It is really good to see you."

It required something of an effort for Sam to leave the med-bay on her jelly-like legs. Her brain was still processing, still demanding to know whether everything had unfolded as she remembered it. Now that she was no longer in Shepard's presence, the questions she knew she ought to have asked came flooding back. How the hell was Shepard even alive? And the expression that crossed Shepard's face when Sam mentioned the Alliance. Sam shook her head. She needed a shower. She'd continued processing when she was clean.

An unfamiliar asari was perched on the end of one of the mess tables. These days Sam was used to seeing asari hanging around the Normandy, but this was not another member of Kurin's crew. The asari was wearing an N7 hoodie and a grin that was far too friendly to belong to one of the taciturn commandos. Although not wanting to blatantly stare as she moved past, Sam couldn't help but be entranced by the vivid pink slashes of colour that accentuated the stranger's features.

"I was shot once," the asari announced without any other form of introduction. "It's pretty cool isn't it?"

"Um, it is?" Sam had to stop in her tracks. "It just kind of hurt…well, after I realised I'd actually been shot."

"Yeah, it does," the asari admitted with a shrug. "You should get an impressive scar though. Mine is kinda small. Wanna see it? Don't worry, it's not on my butt or anything like that."

"Um…" Sam shook her head slightly, taken aback. She'd spent two weeks staring at asari who ignored her unless they wanted something to do with the mission. Even Liara T'Soni, an asari whom she possibly considered a friend, often seemed unapproachable.

Suddenly the asari in front of her winced almost comically. "Fuck. Showing someone your scar when you've just met them is probably really weird isn't it?"

"It is…a little." Sam was exhausted, but she couldn't help but smile. "And I haven't even met you properly."

"Shit." The asari darted forward, her hand outstretched. "Mycea Kasos." She took Sam's hand and pumped it enthusiastically. "Pretty much everyone calls me Myke…except Liara…and Samara. So everyone that isn't a stuck-up asari. I didn't mean to accost you on your way to…wherever you're going. Shepard told me to sit here quietly, so that's what I was doing, but…I had to say hello didn't I?"

"Well, you didn't exactly say hello," Sam pointed out. "You were talking about being shot. And I'm Samantha Traynor. Traynor if you're in the service…and if not, just Sam."

"Just Sam?" Mycea replied with a wink. "It seems like there's a lot more to you than just Sam?"

Holy fuck. Sam's cheeks burned so intensely she couldn't deal with anything. She desperately needed to change the subject. "Um, so…you're friends with Shepard?"

"I work for her," Myke replied, a hint of pride clearly resonant in her voice. "And you're with the Normandy crew..." She twisted her lip awkwardly. "Obviously. I'm sorry. You were on your way somewhere, I've taken up too much of your time."

"No, you haven't. It has been…" Completely weird? But Sam couldn't help but feel drawn to the hopeful expression on Myke's face. "Nice meeting you. If you're friends with Shepard, then I'll be seeing you?"

"Count on it," Myke replied.

It wasn't until Sam was savouring the feeling of a day's worth of grime being blasted from her body five minutes later that she fully appreciated just how weird the whole conversation had been. It's not cool to get shot, Sam thought as she gingerly probed at the edges of the wound on the side of her head. It hurt like hell and in all likelihood her hair wouldn't grow back along the length of the scar.

Still, she mused, I will look slightly bad-ass.


Shepard had watched Samantha Traynor walk out of the med-bay with her guilt returning in full force. She recognised that look in someone's eyes all too well, and knew that Sam's experience on Gurkan had profoundly affected her. Shepard remembered trying to protect Sam from ever having that look in her eyes. She felt as though she had failed.

Liara was staring at her with a concerned expression. Shepard just nodded in response. She was fine. For now.

Liara and Chakwas gave Shepard space as she approached Ashley's bed, moving near the door where they spoke in inaudible whispers. The whispers faded altogether as Shepard looked down at her friend. A bitter smile creased her face.

"You look like shit, Ash," she said quietly.

That was being kind. Deathly pale skin, hollow cheeks and shallow, rasping breaths combined to make the marine almost unrecognisable. Shepard reached out and gently smoothed a clump of purple hair away from Ashley's forehead.

"I don't suppose you've told Miranda about your new look? You never know, she might find the whole purple thing attractive."

Shepard could almost hear Ash's response to that statement. "Have you met Miranda Lawson? Not fucking likely."

"Yeah, you're probably right."

Shepard sighed as she took a seat next to the bed. When she reached out to pick up one of Ashley's hands, she found it cold and clammy. She ran her thumb gently over the calluses on Ashley's palm. Soldier's calluses. Ashley's bones felt frail beneath even her gentle grip. Instinctively, she pressed her lips against Ash's knuckles.

"I've never been good at this sort of thing, Ash, but if you can hear me in there, promise me you're doing everything you can to come back to us. You mean a hell of a lot to a lot of people – regardless of how unimportant you think you are. Abby, Lynn, and Sarah want their sister to come back, I want my best friend back, and I'm pretty damn sure that Miranda can't live without you. And you know how self-reliant she pretends to be. She needs you, Ash, regardless of the bloody awful purple hair…and those tattoos."

Shepard found both Liara and Myke waiting for her outside the med-bay. Shepard could see her bondmate was concerned and reached out to hold her hand for a moment. She then tugged her hood back up over her head. Even though the Normandy was mostly deserted, she felt that it was a necessary precaution.

"EDI, I know you've been watching," Shepard suddenly said quietly.

{I have been researching the statistical probability of a human coming back from the dead twice,} EDI replied. {It is, by all accounts, impossible to even return once, but I find myself unconcerned by the anomaly. I am…pleased to see you, Shepard.}

"It's great to…hear you too, EDI," Shepard replied. "You need to keep this…me, as quiet as possible. You can't tell Joker, not yet."

{Understood, Commander.}

Shepard let EDI's slip go, although she suspected the AI had made the mistake deliberately. Overall, while it felt strange to be back on board the Normandy, a part of her felt as though she had never left. Virtually nothing had changed, apart from the fact that her name was now included on the memorial wall. Seeing that had felt extremely odd. It was a sobering reminder that most of the Galaxy considered her to be dead.

"What do you think of the Normandy, Myke?" Shepard asked as they made their way back to the airlock. She needed an excuse to talk. Anything to take her mind off the sight of seeing Ashley lying in the med-bay looking so unlike the marine she remembered.

"Oh…it's brilliant," Myke replied.

"I guess we couldn't rustle up any commandos though," Shepard said as she looked towards her friend. "They'll probably all be in Afterlife if you're feeling brave."

Myke had an absent look on her face. "Huh? Oh, commandos…right."

"You don't care about the commandos?" Shepard asked, raising her eyebrows. "Who are you and what have you done with the Myke I know?"

Myke looked slightly giddy, or giddier than usual, as a stupid grin spread across her face. "I'm fine, honestly. I've just realised that I spend too much time thinking about commandos."

Shepard stared at Myke with a dubious expression on her face. The young asari was bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet as they waited for the elevator. "You're really weird, you know that right?"

The elevator door opened. Shepard was still looking warily at Myke as they entered.

Myke was blissfully unconcerned. "But not too weird right? Just weird enough to be a little bit interesting?" However, she wasn't interested in Shepard's answer as she continued, "The Normandy will be here for some time though right? Like…long enough to get to know someone?"

"A few weeks, if not longer," Shepard replied. "Why?"

Myke chewed on her bottom lip, as though she was considering something. Then she looked at Shepard and shook her head. "No reason. How was your friend?"

"She's as tough as they come. I think she's going to be alright," Shepard replied, feeling an immense sense of relief. She narrowed her eyes. "You're deflecting, Kasos."

Myke had the gall to wink at her as she skipped out of the elevator.


Ashley discharged herself from the med-bay after having been awake for over twenty-four hours and about to climb the walls with boredom. She waited for Chakwas to leave the room and simply walked out, doing her best not to let her bare ass hang out as she half-lurched, half-stumbled her way to the elevator. Ash felt weak, pathetically so, but somehow she managed to make it up to the Nest. She'd never been so relieved to shut herself away in her personal space. Revelling in the solitude by stripping the paper gown from her body in the middle of the room. It took almost a mild tantrum to get it free. She even went as far as to try and kick the offending garment.

Ash dragged herself into the shower and almost cried when the deliciously hot water hit her skin. Ignoring regulations, she remained beneath the stream of water until she was satisfied that she had managed to completely purge the filth of Gurkan from her body. As she stood with her eyes closed, half-formed memories came back to her. Pieces of conversation, voices – Kurin, Dr Chakwas, and – implausibly – Shepard. Must've had some crazy dreams while I was out.

It was a relief to dress in her own clothes. Sturdy Alliance fatigues. Although the heavy fabric scraped roughly against her skin, it felt like silk compared to the costume she'd worn on Gurkan.

Her peace lasted scarcely another minute longer before the Nest's door chime buzzed impatiently. Ash sighed. Chakwas had obviously come to berate her for escaping. Lock the door? No. I bet EDI is in cahoots with Chakwas.

However, when she reluctantly admitted her visitor, Ash's tired facial muscles managed a warm smile. It was Liara.

"Dr T'Soni."

"After all we have been through, is it still Dr T'Soni?" Liara asked blithely.

"Just for old times' sake."

Ash surprised herself with the speed at which she managed to cross the Nest to take Liara into a warm embrace. It was the first time they had seen each other in person since the grey, devastating day in London almost a year earlier.

"Hey, Liara. It's good to see you."

"I arrived on board to find Dr Chakwas rather unhappy about a certain patient having gone missing from her med-bay." Liara held Ash at arm's length. "I promised I would track you down."

Ash scowled. She couldn't help it. "I'm not going back to that damn med-bay. Not when there's so much work to do. The Normandy is a wreck and you've brought us to Omega of all places. Don't get me wrong, I'm exceedingly grateful to still be in one piece. But I can't do shit here. How do I know Aria T'Loak isn't about to seize my ship and sell the crew to slavers?"

Liara stared tolerantly at Ash throughout the tirade. Her expression was blatantly and unapologetically amused. "You have heard too many stories, Ashley. Believe it or not, Aria T'Loak is actually quite accommodating. Omega is probably one of the safest places in the Galaxy for the Normandy…likewise for myself."

Ash sighed. She felt an immediate sense of relief with Liara's reassurance. With the tension cleared, she studied her friend. Ash was surprised to find Liara looking as well as she'd ever seen her – healthy and in good spirits. It was not at all how Ash would have expected to find the young asari, especially after she hadn't done a bloody thing to keep her promise to Shepard.

"You look well, Liara," Ash said sincerely. Ash however, felt like crap. She'd made her escape from the med-bay without appreciating just how ravaged her body was. Even simply standing was beginning to take a toll. Before she could collapse in front of Liara, Ash took a seat and tried to look as relaxed as possible. In reality she had a headache that felt as though something was trying to split her head open from within.

Without saying a word, Liara retrieved a glass, filled it with water from the bathroom and returned with several pills in her palm.

"From Dr Chakwas," Liara explained.

Ash accepted them gratefully. Hoping, as she swallowed, that they would act quickly. "Of all the shit-for-brains things that I've ever done, this latest stunt tops them all," Ash admitted. "Other than clearly being pissed, did Chakwas say anything?"

"You almost died, Ashley," Liara scolded her. "So it is probably a good thing that you escaped. You are not Dr Chakwas's favourite person at this point in time."

Ash tilted her head so it rested on the back of the sofa. She closed her eyes. The absence of light felt good. "I thought I was dead for a moment. I saw Shepard…or heard her. I don't know exactly, but for a time I felt as though she was there with me." Ash swallowed. Her throat was dry so she took another sip of water. Chakwas had obviously cared enough to give her the good stuff. Her headache was already receding. Her exhaustion unfortunately was not. "I'm sorry, Liara. I'm not exactly cheery conversation material right now. Although I could kiss Chakwas."

"I should leave you to rest," Liara said.

"You can stay can't you?" Ash asked plaintively. She opened her eyes. "I don't want to go back to sleep…not yet anyway."

A small sigh escaped Liara's lips. "Ashley…"

Her voice trailed off. Ash frowned. If anything, Liara suddenly seemed nervous. Bad news? "Did something happen to one of the crew while I was out? Traynor? Shit, I didn't even ask how she is."

"Samantha is fine," Liara replied quickly. She shook her head. "This is not about your crew. I do not know if you are ready, but…"

"Ready for what?"

Liara clasped her hands together anxiously. "She is being her usual self…stubborn and insistent. I do not feel that I can deny her again. Not when you are actually here."

"Liara, forgive me if I'm being rude, but what the hell are you trying to say?"

"I do not think I can explain. You need to see for yourself."

Ash frowned as Liara turned and made a quick gesture in the direction of the door. Booted footsteps were followed shortly afterward by the appearance of a young woman wearing civvies and military-issue combat boots. The newcomer walked forward until she was standing next to Liara. Ash's brain couldn't process what it was seeing quickly enough. She found herself staring at a young woman - seemingly unremarkable save for an understated beauty and an air of confidence about her as she stood with her hands thrust in her pockets. Her eyes were a bright, shining blue. However, when her lips curled upward into an unforgettable smile, Ash found the air driven from of her lungs in a strangled gasp. Minus the scars, with her hair longer and a more relaxed expression on her face, the woman looked exactly like Shepard. Ash rose slowly to her feet.

"Skipper?" she whispered in disbelief.

"I'm not Skipper of anything, Ash...but yeah," Shepard replied in a soft voice. "It's me."

At that point Ashley realised that the woman's eyes were shining due to unshed tears. Her own eyes burned fiercely even as she fought to hold everything together. "What the fuck?" was the only coherent sentence she could manage. Nothing made sense, so she repeated herself, "What the fuck? I saw the Crucible go up with you inside. No one could have survived that…"

Ash's voice trailed off. Dozens of questions bombarded her consciousness, all jostling for priority until none were coherent enough to make any sense. Eventually she had to try to block everything out. She looked at Liara beseechingly. "Liara, what the hell is this?"

Liara shook her head as she turned to look at the woman standing next to her. "I told you she was not ready."

"I've got this, Liara." The woman held up her hand, signalling for Liara to stay put as she moved forward. "I'm sorry to spring this on you now, Ash, but I couldn't wait any longer. I needed you to know."

It sounded so much like Shepard. Ash desperately wanted to believe it was her. "The first time was hard enough. But twice? Is this some kind of sick joke?"

"Ash," the woman whispered. She stretched out a pale white hand and touched Ash's arm.

The touch was icy cold. Ash snatched her arm away. "Don't fucking touch me!"

The exertion was too much. Ash's heartbeat was racing at what felt like a million miles a minute. Tiny pinpricks started to appear at the corners of her vision. She knew she was going to crash out. Not now, not here with that thing! Ash fought for consciousness, yet the harder she tried the more difficult it became. The Shepard-thing was still trying to move towards her. She backed away. It said something in a voice that dripped with fake concern. Ash reeled backwards. Her legs gave out. The woman darted forward, catching her before she could hit the ground. Every breath felt like a struggle.

"Breathe, Ash. You need to breathe," the woman urged gently, still sounding exactly like Shepard. "EDI, can you call Dr Chakwas to the Nest?"

Ash concentrated – in and out, in and out. Her heartrate dropped and the constricting sensation in her chest slowly started to dissipate. "You've managed to con EDI into thinking you're Shepard huh?" Ash asked. Her voice sounded hollow. Reed thin.

"Yeah," came the soft reply. "You should look at her security protocols. They're obviously a bit shit if she's letting imposters stroll around the Normandy."

Ash closed her eyes. Her clean fatigues already felt as though they were soaked in sweat. She was finally willing to admit to herself that she'd escaped the med-bay prematurely. While her eyes were closed, Ash felt a gentle touch across her brow. A clump of hair was smoothed away from her forehead. The simple movement triggered an immediate sense of déjà vu.

"You were here yesterday. In the med-bay?"

"I was."

Ash licked her lips. They were dry and cracked. "Let's say, just for a moment, that I believe you're Shepard. If you're bullshitting me, then I swear I will kick your ass…as soon as I'm able to kick asses again."

A soft chuckle followed. "Ha. You could never kick my arse, Williams."

Ash opened her eyes. Awareness flooded her body. She was lying on her back, cradled in Shepard's lap. Now that Ash was actually looking at her – really looking at her – she didn't know how she failed to recognise Shepard immediately. Save for the long hair, Ash felt as though she was looking at the same Shepard she'd met on Eden Prime years earlier. Tears burned at the corners of her eyes. She fought against them – marines didn't cry – but they welled up regardless.

"I needed you," Ash whispered. "Where the fuck were you?"

Shepard was visibly affected by the question. She swallowed awkwardly before replying. "I wanted to be there for you, Ash, but it's…a long story. A complicated…extremely unromantic one. I'll gladly fill you in when you're up for it."

As soon as Ash saw Dr Chakwas come into her field of view, she put an immense effort into sitting up. "I'm fine, doc, honestly. It was just this asshole giving me a bloody big shock."

"I'll be the judge of whether you're fine, Williams," Chakwas said, making her disapproval clear as she knelt in front of Ash. She brought up her omni-tool and began scanning in a perfunctory manner. "Not to mention the fact that I don't recall discharging you from the med-bay."

"Is she going to be alright, doc?" Shepard asked.

"Physically? Yes….eventually," Chakwas replied. "Although the idiot came about a hairsbreadth from killing herself. It's entirely your fault, Shepard. Where else would she have learned to be so stubborn and pig-headed? Thinking she can take on the whole Galaxy by herself."

"Hey, I'm right here!" Ash protested.

"And you're bloody lucky I don't order you straight back to the med-bay! As it is, Liara and Shepard are helping you only as far as your bed."

Ten minutes later, Shepard, Liara and Chakwas were all in agreement that Ashley was the worst patient they had ever encountered. As the visitors prepared to leave the Nest, Ash couldn't take her eyes off Shepard. All those months of believing her to be dead…again. The months of carrying around an agonising weight on her shoulders as she struggled to live up to the legacy left by her former Commander.

Despite her increasing sense of joy, Ash instinctively knew that she wouldn't be hanging up her Captain's mantle any time soon. Even without a word of explanation, Ash knew something was wrong. Shepard was clearly hiding on Omega for a reason.

Shepard caught her staring and flashed another quick smile.

"Hey, Skipper? You've got to stop dying. People get used to having you around, then you bloody die again. It's fucking inconsiderate. Never again, okay?"

Shepard's smile broadened. "Not until we're old, wrinkled and grey, Ash. I promise."


It had been another long day in two weeks of long days. Taking Shepard to see Ashley had been the final straw, pushing Liara from fatigue to exhaustion. As a result she did not linger over her Broker work. She only needed to brief Hannah Shepard on the state of the Normandy and thank her profusely for working a double shift.

"Don't thank me, Liara," Hannah was quick to reply. "I'm just grateful that the Normandy came back in one piece. It would have destroyed Evie if anything happened to that ship and its crew."

Liara nodded her agreement. No words were necessary. Even more so than Hannah, she knew how terrible a toll the past week had extracted on her bondmate. It was an awful thought to even ruminate on, but a part of Liara was grateful that Shepard had not seen Ashley's last message when there was still time to act on it. Nothing she could have said or done, would have stopped Shepard from trying to help.

"Are you alright without Mr Macklin?" Liara inquired politely.

Hannah managed a chuckle. "I'm not so dependent on the man that I can't live without him for a few weeks." The mirth was short-lived. "You were right to ask Mack to get the job done, Liara. Anderson is important to us. Mack will see him to safety."

"I have every confidence that he will. We have already asked too much of Lucy and her wife," Liara commented. "I will speak with you again soon, Hannah. Evan sends her love."

Liara found Shepard perched on the side of their unmade bed, wearing only boxers and a tank-top. Although Shepard was staring at the view beyond the window, Liara could tell simply from the expression on her bondmate's face that she was deep in thought. She undressed, throwing her clothes haphazardly over a chair which already contained an entire week's worth of dirty laundry. Liara felt the days' sweat clinging to her in an uncomfortable layer, but she was too tired to bother with a shower. That, and a week's worth of chores, could wait for another eight hours.

Without a word, Liara rested her cheek against Shepard's shoulder. Her bondmate's skin felt cold to the touch, indicating how long she had been sitting there, staring out the window. A few moments later, a ragged sigh escaped Shepard's lips. So much was contained in that brief exhalation – relief, exhaustion, and more than a little regret. Some minutes passed, but neither felt the need to speak.

Eventually Shepard shifted slightly. Liara's neck was beginning to go stiff, so she straightened. She reached out to hold Shepard's hand instead.

"How highly do I rate my own abilities that I can convince myself that the mission would have gone differently had I been there?" Shepard asked. "Am I that self-absorbed?"

Liara touched her bondmate with a multitude of caresses – her bare arms, the cool surface of her artificial hand, the small of her back – attempting to offer as much reassurance as she could. "Ashley is an outstanding marine and a capable leader, but she is not you, Evan. I have no doubt that events would have unfolded differently, but not necessarily for the better. In the end, the team got the job done…even if the manner in which it was achieved was definitely reminiscent of one of your more insane stunts."

"Was I ever that bad?"

"Frequently," Liara replied without humour. She realised she was letting slip her lingering resentment over all the times Shepard had almost ended up dead…and the times she actually had.

"I'm sorry," Shepard offered. Small words in the face of something as significant as death.

"We are together now," Liara replied. It was more than enough.

"I've never seen Ash look that bad, not even after that Cerberus thing shot her three times on Mars. And Sam…I know she was putting on a brave face, but she looked haunted. How much more are they going to have to sacrifice before all of this is over?" Shepard suddenly laughed bitterly. "We don't even know what 'over' means anymore. The damn war is over, but the peace is so fragile it feels like a sneeze would top it over the edge. Even after opening my eyes to everything that is going on with the Alliance, I'm no closer to knowing what the hell to do. Meanwhile my friends are nearly getting killed – Ash, Sam, everyone on the Normandy, Anderson. God, Liara, I don't know-"

Liara gently but decisively wrapped her fingers around Shepard's chin and brought them face to face. She cupped Shepard's cheeks with the palms of her hands. Temporarily silencing any fears with a kiss.

"Evan, you need to stop," Liara whispered. "For tonight at least. You can sleep knowing that the Normandy is safe, and that Ash is going to be alright. She knows now, surely that will give you some peace of mind?"

Shepard nodded in response. Liara frowned, knowing that Shepard was only nodding because that a nod was expected. Her entire body remained obviously tense. Liara coaxed Shepard down against the pillows, but she could feel the tightly wound cords of muscles beneath her touch. Although Shepard's eyes closed, Liara could almost see her mind continuing to work, refusing to rest. Wordlessly, she hooked her fingers beneath the band of Shepard's boxers and began sliding them down over her hips. Shepard's eyes opened at the movement.

"Liara." The protest was half-hearted at best.

"Shut up, Evan." A blatant order.

With the boxers tossed aside, Liara encouraged Shepard to part her legs with the barest of touches. Liara then nestled between Shepard's legs, layering kisses across soft skin she moved downwards. Meanwhile her hands, fingers splayed wide, travelled up Shepard's body, delving beneath her thin top to find Shepard's breasts. Liara ignored the tired protests of her own body, stretched out as she was, as she lowered her lips to Shepard's sex. She inhaled deeply. Shepard's scent was invigorating and arousing. Although her body quickened in response, she ignore the ache. From that point she kept her movements slow and deliberate, putting thought into each caress, and each application of pressure with her lips or her tongue.

Shepard responded eagerly beneath her ministrations, clit hardening as Liara took it firmly between her lips and coaxed a drawn out moan. Liara then settled into a slow rhythm, her tongue lavishing attention on her bondmate's increasingly swollen sex. She enjoyed the small ways in which Shepard began to respond. Hips thrusting up to meet Liara's tongue. Hands searching out her crests, cupping and stroking, urging Liara on with gentle but insistent touches. And the tired but urgent sounds Shepard made. Deep breaths punctuated by small gasps, broken every now and then with a murmured endearment or a hissed expletive – especially when Liara thrust her tongue as deeply as she could into Shepard's waiting cunt. Liara then placed both hands on Shepard's hips so she could fully enjoy the feel of smooth skin moving beneath her palms – hot, with just a hint of sweat. Shepard was close. Liara didn't tease. Instead she made each stroke of her tongue firm and precise. Liara still managed to savour everything – the taste of her bondmate on her lips, the increasingly desperate sounds Shepard made, but this time it was all about the release.

When Shepard came, Liara couldn't contain the murmur of pleasure that escaped her own lips, even occupied as they were. At another time she would have drawn everything out, taking her bondmate to the brink and beyond, but tonight she lingered only long enough to deposit a kiss atop Shepard's quivering sex. Liara then crawled upwards, gratefully collapsing into the warmth offered by pressing her body the length of Shepard's. She didn't bother with the covers, simply wrapping one leg and one arm around Shepard, drawing her as close as she could.

"You didn't need to-" Shepard started to murmur.

"Shut up, Evan." This time it was said in the barest of whispers.

From there Liara listened contentedly to the sound of Shepard breathing. Rapidly at first, then quickly tapering off to even, satisfied breaths. They became shallower until eventually being replaced altogether by the gentle sound of snores.