A/N: Rating bump-up to M for language.

The docking tube stretched out before her, stars glinting menacingly through the gaping wounds in its walls. Shepard closed her eyes, resisting the urge to check her suit integrity one more time. Everything was fine. She was fine.

The first step brought the reassuring reverberation of her boots clinging to the metal—they'd held, of course they'd held— and she let out the breath she'd been unconsciously holding. She was fine. The stars were still out there and she was here and safe and fine.

Another step.

She could already see that the way forward was going to require some maneuvering to get around the numerous breaches; conduits and wiring dangled loosely, covering the holes where the panels had been blown out and torn away. A trickle of sweat rolled down her back as she made herself turn and walk upward along the one path that was still structurally intact. Everything was fine. No need to check the hoses running from her air supply.

"Shepard, you okay?" Garrus' voice over her comm was tinged with concern.

She closed her eyes again, swallowing tightly. "I'm fine."

"It's just… it's been a few minutes and you haven't moved."

Shit. When had she stopped? Taking a long, deep breath she opened her eyes. "Sorry." Another step. Her legs were trembling. She made it as far as the next broken panel.

Everything was fine.

No, it wasn't. She wasn't fine.

The open space around her was eating away at the gaps in the walls; metal plates detaching and drifting away, letting in the silence and the stars.

"I can't—I can't do this. I can't." Shepard crouched down with her head between her knees as her pulse hammered woodenly in her ears and dizziness swept through her.

"Yes, you can."

She let out a gasp that was almost a sob.

Garrus.

There were hands on either side of her, helping her stand.

"We've got you, Shepard."

Tali.

She turned to each of them, knowing they couldn't see the gratitude that was on her face. They didn't need to see it to know it was there.

Together, they picked their way forward once more. The banter between Garrus and Tali was easy and light, drawing her thoughts away from the precipice she'd been at moments before as she kept her focus on the docking bay in the distance. She was fine. They were almost there.

The pathway of stable panels grew narrower as they got closer, and soon they were walking in single file.

Garrus. Tali. Shepard.

Garrus was the first to cross over to the safety of the ledge, reaching his hand out to help Tali stride over the final gap. Shepard felt the vibration in her boots first as the docking tube shuddered.

"Garrus!" She was still too far away from the edge of the docking bay and the black glittering maw of space was opening ahead of her. "Garrus!"

With a burst of adrenaline, she charged forward, leaping as the girders holding the tube together let go.

Too far.

It was too far.

Garrus would catch her. Everything was fine.

But… he didn't. The taloned hand that should have been reaching out to take hers was stroking the rippled fabric of Tali's hood as he embraced her; the two of them lost in their own moment as she was drifting.

Lost.

She should be panicking. Everything she'd feared was happening—again—and yet the only thing she felt was a dead sort of calm. She was supposed to be here, supposed to be dead… wasn't she?

"Garrus," she whispered, reaching her hand out hopelessly anyway.

But it was Tali who lifted her head, watching her with just the flickers of her eyes behind the purple haze of her mask before settling her cheek back against the comfort of Garrus' shoulder.

There was a faint hiss—the familiar lullaby of a ruptured air supply—and then darkness.

oOoOo

Shepard woke with a strangled gulp of air, her eyes focusing first on the wide window over the bed and the stars rushing past.

Stars. Fuck.

She barely made it to the bathroom in time, heaving what little was in her stomach painfully into the toilet. The wall was blissfully cool against her head as she leaned against it, waiting for the spasms in her stomach to subside. When she could stand, she rinsed out her mouth with cupped handfuls of water from the sink. She wasn't sure how long she had slept, but there was no point in trying to go back to sleep now. Still shaking, she stripped off her sweat-drenched clothes and showered quickly, letting the water get hot enough to sting.

Her omnitool confirmed that it was only just past 0200 as she pulled on clean clothes and bound her hair back into its customary ponytail. She hesitated briefly in the elevator, her hand hovering over the button for the Crew Deck. It was late. While the possibility of running into Garrus was low, it certainly wasn't out of the realm of possibility, and she didn't think she could face him right now. Not when her emotions were too volatile, too… out of control. Shepard rubbed her eyes wearily. She just wasn't getting enough sleep, wasn't eating enough. That was all there was to it. It wouldn't take long to stop by the mess and grab a nutrient bar or two before heading back up to the CIC.

The thought of food… her stomach roiled uncomfortably. Maybe later.

The CIC was quiet, just the skeleton staff that maintained it at night, and Shepard was grateful for the minimal amount of interaction required. There were a few nods and salutes to acknowledge her presence, but she was otherwise left alone.

Skimming through her messages, there was only one of any immediate importance; a comm facility in the Kepler Verge that Cerberus was attempting to take control of. She moved to the galaxy map, taking a strange measure of comfort from the actions she'd performed hundreds of times: marking out a few systems they hadn't examined yet; calculating how long it would take to detour out their way to look for an artifact for the Elcor.

They weren't far from Ontarom; a short side trip to fuck up the Illusive Man's plans sounded like just what she needed right now. After that, a supply run to the Citadel and a chance to give the crew a night or two of shore leave. Shepard forwarded the navigation information to Joker and then retreated to the War Room to spend a few more hours obsessively combing through the endless reports and correspondence that had piled up during her brief absence. Her head was starting to droop—she'd read the words on this datapad at least three times now without registering anything—when her omnitool beeped softly. 0500 hours. Time to wake up.

Shepard snorted at the irony, adding the datapad to the top of the pile towering on the table's edge near her elbow before standing up and stretching. The ache in her right shoulder was somewhat worse because of how she'd been hunched over next to the terminals and she rolled it a few times, trying to ease the incessant stiffness.

"EDI, are we in orbit around Ontarom yet?"

"Not yet, Commander. We will have reached a suitable altitude for shuttle deployment in approximately two hours, twenty-eight minutes."

"Thanks. Nothing further."

She sent Cortez a brief message to ensure the shuttle would be ready and made her way to the elevator. Traynor's station was still vacant, although the CIC was notably busier than it had been a few hours before. With a heavy sigh, she punched the button for the Crew Deck.

She had to face them—him—some time. She knew Garrus had seen through her yesterday. Hell, she was sure they both had. They'd both just looked so happy, so… comfortable with each other. It was stupid, but somehow she'd always thought there was something more between her and Garrus. Sure, they'd never acted on those feelings, but that was because they were military. Professionals, with a keen regard for the chain of command and what that responsibility entailed.

Shepard had always shown a commitment to duty that went beyond the average soldier, even during basic training. It was that discipline that had set her apart, that had kept her alive and determined and focused on Akuze. That discipline that had got her noticed for the N7 program. That discipline that had made her the first human Spectre. She had never even broken the fraternization rule, and that was the one set of regs that everyone broke. Maybe that was her problem; she'd never been able to just let go.

The mission had always been more important, but that was the way it was supposed to be. You didn't win wars by fucking your subordinates and letting them watch you drink yourself stupid in some seedy off-world bar. You held yourself apart, propped them up as they floundered under the weight of the responsibilities placed on them. Watched as they joked and loved… and lived.

At what point had she gotten so caught up in saving everyone else that she'd forgotten to save herself? When had she last slept more than three hours in a row, or eaten something that wasn't a dry ration meal replacement? But how was she supposed to sleep, eat… do any other of the mundane tasks of living when every fucking second she wasted doing those things meant that Earth burned a little more? Not just Earth; Palaven, Tuchanka, Sur'Kesh…

She sighed again. Pull off one miracle and everyone acted like you had a bunch more in your back pocket.

Fuck.

No wonder she was losing it.

A/N: Thank you to Josie Lange for the beta - your suggestions were spot on, as always - and to karebear for launching the Team Angst ping pong ball my way (again). :D

Thank you, as well, to everyone who has taken the time to read/review/alert/favorite. I appreciate the support so much!