Liara

"Neural mapping, unstable. Biotic levels, fluctuating. Problematic. Recommend further sedation." I heard the rapid tattoo of a high pitched voice…a salarian, by syntax and tone.

There are no salarians aboard the Normandy, my very thoughts felt sluggish, as though I had to reach through a thick fog to gather them together.

"I respect your opinion, doctor." I heard Chakwas and my confusion eased.

We must…have come alongside…a salarian ship. Were there geth on Alchera? Have I been injured…I took a moment to assess my condition, but I could find no physical discomfort present. Though the heavy fog in my mind might very well have been caused by pain medication.

"Respect not approval. Human speech, too roundabout. State intentions."

"Of course." Chakwas replied. "I refuse to keep her under sedation. Even in light of all that has happened. It would be cruel."

"Necessity is cruel." the salarian replied. "Will trust your opinion, within acceptable parameters. Patient moved to lockdown. Less risk for crew."

"Of course, doctor." Chakwas replied. "I will accompany her."

"Right. Follow."

My head swam as the surface beneath me moved. There were strange sounds assaulting me, and I attempted to place them. Voices, some familiar, some not. Those that were not familiar all had the same choppy speech of the salarian race.

And the sounds…the sounds were of a ship. They were the normal ambient noises made by ships that were not the Normandy. Why were we not aboard the Normandy? What had happened?

I heard the swish of a door opening, the movement stopped, and the door closed. The 'thunk' particular to magnetic locks at last jarred my eyes open, and I stared at an unfamiliar ceiling.

"Liara?" Dr. Chakwas asked, and she entered my field of vision. "Are you awake, my dear?"

"I am…very confused." I muttered, my voice sounding faraway. "Why are we not on the Normandy?" I struggled to sit up, and Karin assisted me. "Has something happened? Have I been wounded?"

Chakwas' eyes darkened and filled with pain. As my vision cleared I noticed that the human woman seemed pale and drawn, as though she had aged years since I had last seen her. A darkness began shivering in the back of my mind like a haunting melody. Something I should know. Something deep and terrible.

"Do you not remember, Liara?" she asked, and I could detect the faintest quiver in her voice, as though she were fighting to keep her emotions in check.

I closed my eyes, flinching as fire flashed behind them. I felt a warm hand on my shoulder, quicksilver eyes burning a hole inside of me. A whispered endearment…a raging inferno…a baptism into what hell must be. My lips began to tremble as three devastating words echoed through my memory, etched with a crackle of static…ghosts of those lost, screaming into the void of a fiery, frigid death.

She's gone, Ash.

I opened my eyes and looked at the human doctor, one of the kindest women I had ever met, seeking for something to tell me that it had all been a dream. Instead, all I witnessed was a sea of sorrow, a wealth of pain.

Oh, my girl.

My entire body began to tremble and I felt the ice of space invade my heart. Chills shook my body and my mind became a solid blank. I did not want to think. I did not want to process speech. I did not want to move from wherever I was…my world had been ripped open, an ugly gash in what had been an unsullied paradise.

Something warm and soft settled around my shoulders, but it could not erase the foreign room or the stench of smoke, nor could it ease the shivers that wracked my body, merciless and brutal.

"Why could it not have been a dream?" I asked, looking to Chakwas, begging the woman who had seen the war between life and death countless times to explain this to me. "How…how could it…how could it have happened?"

She shook her head, her hair swaying with the movement. "I don't know." she replied. "We're on board a salarian STG ship. They responded to the Normandy's distress beacon."

"Stop." I begged, lifting my hand, watching it tremble. "Please just…how can you be so calm? This cannot be real, Karin. It simply cannot be!"

"You're in a state of shock, Liara." Karin said, her voice even, though it remained laced by the weight of a terrible burden. "I had to sedate you on board the shuttle. You were losing control of your biotics."

"Goddess." my eyes flared wide and nausea churned in my gut. "Did I…did I hurt anyone?" I asked, wincing as acid rose in my throat and my trembling intensified.

"No." Karin answered, and the dullest relief I had ever felt settled across me.

I lifted my head and met Karin's eyes. Her brows furrowed and she frowned, reaching out and placing two of her fingers against the pulse point at my neck. I whimpered at the warmth of her touch, shuddering violently at the remembrance of the heat of Shepard's body against mine, the salty, earthy taste of her skin, the conflagration of her caress.

It cannot be true, my mind rebelled. She is so strong, so powerful so…

Blood drained from my face and I froze. Chakwas removed her hands and reached for something that I could not see…for I was locked in time, short hours ago, where I had stood inside a burning ship, looked into my lover's eyes, and demanded that she return to me. I had wanted her promise, her assurance, for she had never broken her word.

It's time…was all she had said. She had promised me nothing; given me nothing; made me flee to safety while she walked further into destruction.

Why would she say such a thing?

The answer followed the question, all too fast, and my stomach rebelled. Chakwas was there, holding a bowl, and I closed my eyes as I retched. Over and over, my strangled heaves echoed in the small room and the vile stench of vomit rose, serving only to prolong the spasms wrenching my insides. At last, I had nothing more left within me and I curled into a tight, shivering ball of pain and confusion. The demons of war gnawed at my heart and I wanted to scream, to cry, but I could find neither voice nor tears.

A gentle hand pressed a warm cloth to my face, cleaning the mess I had made…Karin Chakwas finding her place in the world. A comforter. A healer. I had once had such a place, such a reason. I was the stronghold of Serena Shepard, the one who carried her pain, who adored her scars, who soothed her nightmares. But if she was gone…

"Why?" I rasped, looking into Chakwas' eternally kind gaze. "Why did I listen?"

"What do you mean, my dear?" she asked, soaking another cloth in cool water and wiping the sweat from my brow, drawing the thin, military issue blankets around my curled, trembling form.

"Why didn't I die too? I don't…" my breath caught in my throat, "…I don't want…I do not want to be alive."