Chapter 22

It felt strange making her own coffee. She stared down at the black sludge in her cup, grimacing, before adding some dry milk. Usually Shepard liked her coffee black, but hopefully if she added enough other ingredients, she could cover up the flavor of whatever the strange liquid was that currently filled her mug. Whatever this new stuff was that Alliance had supplied them with, it definitely wasn't coffee. She took a hesitant sip and almost gagged, but sat down anyway. She needed the caffeine to jump-start her day. For once, her sleep hadn't been terrorized by nightmares; however, today she was expected to go to Tuchanka to help Mordin cure the genophage, and she knew it wouldn't be an easy task.

She missed Thane. His disease had progressed in the months that she'd been grounded, and he was no longer fit for military life. She'd gone to see him at the Citadel hospital, but their exchange had been brief and uncomfortable. When she'd tried to talk him into a less exerting position on the Normandy, he'd declined; he was no longer fit for military life. Shepard understood, but breakfast felt lonely without him.

Garrus was already seated at the other side of the table. Since he'd gone up to her cabin, she had dutifully ignored him. Starting over was a good idea, but she found herself more attracted to him now that they had decided not to sleep together, pining over what she couldn't have. She didn't want to ruin things with him this soon by seducing him again, so the easiest solution was to avoid talking to him. However, he was giving her a strange look, and she found herself perturbed.

"What? Is there something on my face?"

He shook his head, looking amused. "No, you just look like you're about to murder your coffee."

"You try it," she muttered, shoving it toward him and wrinkling her nose. "It's absolute filth."

"Are you really trying to poison me hours before an important mission?"

She smirked. "Damn, foiled again."

He chuckled softly. She tried not to smile as she realized that even his laugh was colored by his sub-harmonics. Turian voices were fascinating. Strange, but fascinating.

"Do you really think this is going to work, Shepard?"

The question surprised her.

"The cure?" He nodded, and she exhaled, thoughtful. "Well, Mordin is a genius, after all. I think as long as our ground team holds its own, we can do it."

He was looking at the table, his expression grave.

"Are you… thinking about Palaven?"

"Yeah. We really need the krogan aid. The casualties are growing every day."

"Do you have any family there?"

She regretted the question as soon as she'd asked it. She was prying, and she didn't even know why. His family was none of her business, and she'd resent him for asking about hers.

"A dad and a sister. It's been a few days since I heard from them." His voice was strangely flat now.

"I'm sorry to hear that," she replied sincerely. "I'm sure they'll be alright."

He smiled wryly. "That's the thing about getting old, Shepard… the platitudes get just as old."

"Yeah," she whispered. She remembered the platitudes well. "Yeah, they do."

She stared up. Her mouth was open slightly and her eyes were huge as she watched the scene unfold.

"Shepard, move!"

Yeah, that was probably a good idea. She lunged to the side as a giant Reaper leg (tentacle?) slammed down next to her, flinging dust and rock into the air. She glanced over her shoulder as she ran, just in time to see the mother of all thresher maws make a second pass at the Reaper. She stumbled, and had to return her attention to her feet as she made her way down the ruins. She got back to the trucks just in time to turn back and watch as the massive thresher maw coiled around the Reaper like a snake and pulled it into the ground.

"Holy shit."

"Appears thresher maws do not like Reapers," Mordin remarked calmly, climbing back into one of the trucks.

"Yeah. I suppose not."

The drive to the Shroud was short. It was on fire, and it looked ready to collapse. They stared up at it together as an explosion blew out one of the windows.

"Is the cure ready?"

"Yes. Loaded for dispersal in two minutes."

He turned away from her and headed toward the elevator.

"Wait, you're going up there?" she demanded.

"Yes. Manual access required."

She stared at him incredulously. Was he insane? The Shroud was ready to collapse. He would never make it out.

"Mordin, you can't do that. You know that's a one-way trip."

"No other way to bypass controls. Only possible solution manual override." He inhaled deeply. "My responsibility."

"You can't," she repeated stubbornly. "You can't do this."

He stepped into the elevator, smiling back at her apologetically. "Had to be me. Someone else might have gotten it wrong."

"No," she whispered as the doors closed.

She walked toward them, but didn't lift her eyes from the ground. She didn't want to see their faces when they realized Mordin wasn't with her.

"Oh, Shepard…" The pity in Liara's voice was painful.

The small asari threw her arms around Shepard, who didn't move. She felt numb. So many had died under her command. So many deaths. It was her fault, it had to be. Why else would they all keep dying?

"Everything's going to be just fine," Liara soothed, stroking her back reassuringly.

Shepard's eyes wandered to Garrus. He met her gaze for a moment before shaking his head and looking down.

Platitudes.

The lounge felt particularly empty without the presence of Kasumi. Shepard was curled up in the corner of the couch, just the way the small thief used to sit. She was hugging her knees, staring blankly at the floor.

Fuck. She was such a disappointment. Nihlus would have been ashamed to see her like this, full of self-pity, but she didn't care. This was her fault, and she knew it. She shouldn't have let Mordin go. The hell with the cure. Krogan had lasted through two thousand years of the genophage, and they could certainly stand to wait a little longer, until all the chaos with the Reapers was over with.

But would it ever really be over? Even if they destroyed the Reapers, it would come at a cost. They'd already lost hundreds of millions of lives. Earth would surely never look the same. Whatever species survived would have to try to repopulate, and so much technology would be lost.

If she lived, would she still be able to fly? She hated being grounded. Even the intermittent stops on the Citadel drove her insane. What if the war ended and she was forced to spend the rest of her life on Earth? That wasn't where she belonged. Her place was among the stars, traveling from system to system. That was the only life she wanted.

She heard the door slide open, and the sound roused her from her thoughts.

"Shepard? Damn, for a second, I almost thought you were Kasumi."

She gave Garrus a slight smile. "What if she'd used her cloaking to sneak on board?"

"Oh, I'm sure she's around here somewhere. In fact, I'm a little offended she hasn't made her appearance yet."

"Yeah. Me too. I wish I could talk to her right now."

Where had that come from? She'd never been particularly close to Kasumi. She'd only talked to her on occasion between missions. She was probably just feeling insecure.

"You could send her a message, you know."

Shepard shrugged. "It wouldn't be the same. Besides, I'm sure she's very busy. I heard she was on the run from a Spectre."

"Believe it or not, that doesn't surprise me one bit." He stared out the window for a few moments, before his gaze shifted to her. "Would you like a drink?"

She shook her head. "I need to give my liver a break. These cybernetics are awesome, but I don't want to push my luck."

"Suit yourself."

He poured himself a glass of amber liquid and sat down at the other end of the couch. She was surprised to find herself grateful for the company.

"It's a shame what happened to Mordin."

Okay, now she wanted him to leave. He wasn't going to try to make her talk about this, was he?

"Yeah," she said plainly, drawing her knees closer.

He gave her a look, and she stared back at him. What did he want? He was being so weird. She looked away, uncomfortably.

"Look, I know you probably don't want to get all emotional about this. I'm not going to force you to say anything. But I will tell you this: you can't blame yourself for the decision he made. That was his call, not yours. If there was a way to distribute the cure and save him at the same time, we both know you would have found it." He stood, still holding his glass. "Don't beat yourself up over this, Shepard."

Had he always been this kind? Could she really have missed this side of him, living on the same ship with him for more than a year? This had to be some sort of new development, some product of the war he'd seen over the last several months. She wasn't sure what to make of it. Maybe it was the feelings of inadequacy, or maybe she was really starting to like him, but it took a decent amount of will-power for her to resist jumping him.

"Thanks," she replied softly.

He nodded curtly, and took a few steps toward the door.

"Will you stay?"

She hated herself for saying it. Good leaders didn't let their crew see weakness. They were supposed to be able to lean on her, not the other way around. Regardless, he turned and sat back down, this time a bit closer to her.

"Of course I will."

She didn't like relying on others. She wouldn't let her problems become his. But she didn't want to be alone right now.

"Did I ever tell you my father worked at C-Sec too?"

It startled her. He'd hardly mentioned his family before today.

"No, you didn't."

"No? Well, he did. He's actually the one that got me the job there. He had such high hopes for me... I guess we never really turn out the way we're supposed to."

She frowned at him. "You've done a lot more good in this world than most people ever will. I don't know where you stand as far as rank goes, but I noticed generals were saluting you on Menae. Isn't he proud of you?"

"Well, not in the conventional sense. He's very by the book, a man who follows the rules." He looked down at her, and she swore there was a smile in his eyes. "No offense, but he wouldn't like you at all."

"Me?" she replied with mock-innocence, drawing a smirk from Garrus.

"So you can imagine he's had a few issues with what I've been doing for the past few years: leaving C-Sec, hunting down a rogue Spectre, joining up with Cerberus... I'm not exactly a good turian. When I told him they'd made me an 'Expert Reaper Advisor,' whatever that is, he wasn't sure what to make of it. Obviously it was an honorable title, but he didn't approve at all of the work I did to earn it. The look on his face was priceless - mandibles spread in shock, searching for something nice to say, and all he could come up with was a half-hearted congratulations."

Shepard grinned in spite of herself. "He must have been pretty pissed off."

"Oh, definitely. My sister spent the rest of the day rubbing it in his face that I outranked him."

Shepard shifted closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder. She didn't tend to enjoy prolonged physical contact, but for some reason, it felt right.

"Tell me about your sister."

As she listened to him, she realized she hadn't felt so peaceful in years. Maybe talking wasn't such a bad thing after all. And maybe it was okay for a leader to let her guard down every once in a while.

(A/N): We're almost to the end of the story. Updates may be less frequent, since I'm writing longer chapters. Hopefully none will take more than a few days.