Chapter 13: Nightcall

Something seemed amiss. It wasn't clear as to what, but it felt clearly off. Like he was being watched or stalked or something like that. Changing sides didn't help shake off the feeling, so he tried to look around, in spite of the darkness . There, on the opposite bunk, there was something there. Jack? he asked, semi-awake.

You're up, came the reply, more like a statement.

How did you get in here? he inquired, looking around.

I'm still wanted, Shepard. Strolling in wasn't an option, she reminded him

Did Kasumi help? he wondered.

None of your fucking business, she barked back.

Alright, he resigned, changing sides again, trying to get comfortable.

Aren't you going to ask me what I'm doing here? she tried quizzing him.

With what looked like no small amount of effort, Shepard lifted himself up from the thin mattress, then huffed. I have a hearing in, he paused, checking his omni-tool, 4 hours, so if you want to cuddle, just jump in.

I don't want to fucking cuddle, Shepard, she cried, throwing her arms out in exasperation. Don't you know what happened tonight?

I do, he came back, as soft and calm as possible, which is exactly why I need to sleep for my hearing.

Aren't you mad at me? Don't you hate me? Don't you want to punch me or something ? Jack screamed at him.

I'm not mad at you, Jack. I can be disappointed at times, but I'm not mad at you , he tried to reassure her.

Are you? she questioned him.

Am I what? he asked back, still dazed from sleep.

Disappointed in me, she retorted.

This argument was getting ridiculous. Shepard sighed before talking again. You're the only reason you guys got so close to catching Billy in the first place. So no, I'm not disappointed.

Obviously frustrated, Jack's hands started to claw at the back of her head, tearing at hair that weren't even there. I fucked up, Shepard, why can't you hate me?

He squinted his eyes, as if trying to discern something that the darkness was hiding. Why do you want me to hate you so desperately?

Because I can handle hate, she snapped, as if this was common knowledge to everyone but Shepard. In spite of being drowsy, tired and, in a sense, hopeless, the specter found it incredibly funny. He lowered his head on the mattress and started to laugh. What's so fucking funny? she demanded.

Having calmed down, he lifted his head and got up from the cot. Who we are is not what we do, you of all people should know that, Jack. Taking a few light steps in the dark cell, he approached her and sat next to her . And I think you're underselling the success of the stakeout. You stopped Billy from claiming another victim, you ID'd him as a turian and Garrus fired a shot that should put him out of commission till Miranda returns with more intel from Omega. Catching him would have been ideal, but it's also asking too much .

What if you get convicted because I didn't catch him? What will happen if you get sent to some batarian prison and die? What will we do when the reapers come? she whimpered.

It's just a hearing, Jack. There probably won't even be a trial. I wasn't being light when I tasked Mordin with my defense. He stroked her bald head and kissed it. You worry too much. Not having been satisfied with just one kiss, the specter tried one more on her forehead, then on her cheek, only to be interrupted as she forced her lips on his. Soon they were a tangled mess of hands that stroked the flesh beneath, as the heat between them grew more intense. Jack leaned back on the cot, putting her feet up as Shepard made his way on top of her, his hands never leaving her back and head, rather just laying her down slowly. As their lust took over, Jack seemed to get more aggressive. She tried to bite a few times before successfully digging her teeth in Shepard's lips. She drew blood and he found himself pushing her away and pulling back. Jack just smiled and smeared his blood over her lips and teeth. What the hell, Jack? he demanded. She lunged at him and started hitting him. The specter struggled and fought her off, pinning her down. Stop that, he ordered her, before settling back down. One more time, she threw her arms, grabbing his uniform to pull herself close to him. While Shepard expected another barrage of attacks, the unstable biotic just nestled herself on his lap and buried her face in his chest. Even though he couldn't see her, he knew she was crying. With a sigh, he put his arms lovingly around her once more. It's alright, he reassured her.

He wasn't sure how long they had been like this. His legs felt numb. He was pretty certain he even fell asleep again. It must have been over an hour, he reasoned.

Why? He eventually heard her voice.

Why what? he asked back.

Why are you doing this? Us, she clarified, after a small respite. Are you serious? Are you being a boy scout? Is it just you trying to fix everything?

You shouldn't have to ask, to know the answer to that, Jack, he replied.

Everything I know tells me you're lying, Shepard. That this isn't real and you're just using me, as well, she whimpered. If you're honest, then my whole life is a lie. So how can this be? Is it a lesson that you're trying to teach me? It takes the best to fix the worst or some deep shit that I don't understand? What are you trying to do with me?

Compelled to huff at first, he fumbled for an answer. I'm not trying to do anything. I just found someone that I can connect with.

Connect? she wondered. To the 'psychotic biotic'? Jack lifted her head and finally found the courage to look at him.

His laughter resounded in the empty room for a moment. No, just you. He paused for a minute. We're not all that different. I've been experimented on since, well, my re-birth, I've suffered loss and failure and I've even been used by Cerberus. You've suffered much worse, than I have though, but you also handled it better than I would in your shoes. Shepard shook his head. I'm going to need a drink, if I'm to continue.

Jack slid off his lap and let him get up. Under the cot the specter usually slept on, was a small stash of liquor. One bottle of dextro, one bottle of levo whiskey. He picked the appropriate bottle and poured a glass. He tried to hand the glass to Jack, but her hand gripped the bottle instead. Shepard shrugged and downed the glass in one short gulp, as Jack took a swig right off the bottle. In a fit of uncharacteristic anger, the commander threw the glass against the far wall. He raised an eyebrow when the glass was engulfed in a blue light and seemed to hover back to Jack, before it had the chance to shatter to a thousand pieces. She poured him another, which he gladly accepted. A hand reaching in his back pocket, Shepard pulled out a photo and gave it to her. She, in turn, switching on her omni-tool to shed some light on it, looked at it intently. What's this? she inquired, as all she could see was a bunch of strangers.

I wasn't always the commander of the Normandy, Jack. She had one before me and I was with him before there even was a Normandy, he explained. And before Garrus, Tali, Wrex and Liara, I used to run with these guys.

Her interest in the picture intensified, she stared at the picture some more. So where are they now?

Dead, his response came bluntly.

Dead? she dropped the photo on the mattress, as if it would give her 'the dead' as well, like some sort of disease. What happened?

As Shepard emptied his glass again, Jack took another draft. Have you heard of Akuze?

Akuze? Oh yeah, the fucking Shepard memorial! She lit up as she remembered. ANN has been going apeshit over it. What the hell is it about?

It was ... back in '77. Me and this merry little band of misfits responded to a distress call, after the original colonization team went silent. As soon as we landed, we could feel the ground shake beneath our feet. We paid little heed at the time. Just aftershocks of a greater earthquake, before we arrived. Thinking back to it now, he drifted off. The colony had been beset by thresher maws. We were surrounded. I hate having to use Zaeed's line, but I was the only one to make it out alive that day. Or so I thought, at least. This guy over here, he pointed at the photo, Toombs. He made it out as well. I saw him many years later, on Ontarom. Said the whole thing was staged by Cerberus. Jack raised an eyebrow in response, her way of saying 'why am I not surprised?' The specter gave his glass back to Jack for yet another refill. This time, he just took a small sip, instead of downing the drink in one go. I don't think I even have to tell you what the Illusive Man's response to that accusation was. Looking back at her, Shepard found her staring at the picture. What is it?

I'm just trying to spot you, she replied. The commander slapped his head, hiding his eyes, as his other hand pointed at himself in the picture. Jack burst out in laughter. Look at you! You were so young, awwww. And what's with the hair?

It was the 70s. I don't have to justify myself, he retorted. It was time for one more drink and this time his companion joined in as well, taking several gulps on her way. Shepard threw the glass as he finished it up. It smashed on the ground, before she could stop it this time. The commander walked in front of her and lifted her up.

The hell are you doing? I don't like being manhandled like this, she protested.

The specter seemed to pay little heed to both her objections and her struggling, though, as he walked to his bed. I need to sleep. So fuck your feelings, Jack.

Surprised at first, her expression eased into a smile. Fuck your feelings too, Shepard.