A/N: I want my readers to know that I have not stopped writing, nor will I EVER stop writing this fic, or any of my other ongoing fics. Chapters have been slow because I have been wrapped up in finals, and soon to come, summer-school (DAMN YOU ALGEBRA!). Rest assured this fic will continue until it ends! :)
Having acquired Grunt from the c-sec cell blocks, the spectre concluded that his next order of business would be to pay respects to the man who had sacrificed so much for him in life, and possibly even more in death. The walk down to the morgue was a quiet and eerie one. The air smelled cold and bitter as only death could. The echo of armored footsteps accompanied them the entire way, almost nerve racking to the savior of the citadel. He wished someone would speak, one of Garrus' wise-cracks or a complaint from Grunt about how they were wasting time investigating a crime when they should be curb-stomping faces, would have been a welcome gesture. If only something would distract him from the silent descent into the corridors that seemed to grow longer with each suspenseful second. For a brief moment though, glancing in the smaller krogan's direction, he did notice a difference in the way Grunt carried himself. His eyes held a certain discipline unrecognized in him, one that was strangely similar to Wrex. Surely he hadn't undergone such a drastic change in nearly a weeks time? Suddenly he felt guilty for letting his thoughts stray from his deceased friend, Anderson, of whom he knew his thoughts needed to be directed.
"Shepard?" Tali, having called his name, brought him out of his drifting trance. He hadn't realized he had appeared to be a statue mere feet from the heavy pressure doors used to seal and maintain the cold temperatures in the morgue. He felt a heavy pang in his gut and fought to stifle a grimace as he thought about what lay beyond the doors. It was so much easier to grieve for the loss of Kaiden Alenko. Never having to see a battered body, only a scarred memory and eternal guilt and remorse. He could almost imagine the vivid face of Anderson, blaming him for his death, that he wasn't there to protect him. But the thought would only haunt him more if he were to not see the body, to come to terms that his friend was truly dead.
"We'll give you some space, Shepard. I'm not one for alien sentiment anyway," Wrex spoke with a rare softness before ushering Grunt and Garrus to follow him back up to the academy's main floor. As the three strode off, Tali stepped in front of her troubled husband and embraced him comfortingly.
"If you need anything, anything at all, I'll be right here," she said, caressing his armored shoulder lovingly before stepping aside so that he might enter.
"I love you," he replied with equal affection. Gathering his pride and resolve, he walked at a brisk pace forward, the doors instantly pressurizing and opening to allow him entry. The few steps he took inside felt like an eternal descent into hell. The air was even colder inside the room than it was outside. It all felt like a real life Dante's Inferno and the seventh circle of hell.
The room was pitch black when he entered, but as the pressure doors sealed behind him, the lights flickered to life revealing every inch of the cold storage used as a morgue. Large, human-sized cry-tubes aligned the walls in a horizontal fashion, each retracted into the dull gray, tritanium walls. The freezing oxygen could be seen being circulated through the vents in the roof. Had it not been for the temperature regulator built into his N7 armor, he felt he would surely have hypothermia by the time his visit was over.
A small terminal built into the center of the wall caught his attention. Walking up to it, he waved his armored glove in front of it which brought up an extensive list of the dead. A slight wave of his fingers, the list scrolled, and he saw it. Anderson, David E. He paused for brief moment and sighed heavily before tapping the release button. The cryo-tube slowly slid out from the wall, the glass completely obscured by the thin layer of ice buildup. Letting his armored glove rest on the glass, the spectre inhaled deeply, mustering his last reserves of courage.
"I'm sorry..." he whispered. With nothing left to consider, he hit the small button on the side of the tube. A loud hiss sounded as the pressure was released and the glass covering opened in a vertical fashion with each side slowly sliding into the mechanical structure. His heart rate quickened as the cold air vented out in a thick cloud. Only when it cleared, his eyes widened in horror.
"What the hell?"
…
Standing nervously in the preceding corridor, Tali anxiously wrung her hands together, thoughts of her emotionally broken husband plaguing her mind. He'd been inside for more than five minutes now, though it might as well have been five hours with how impatient she was becoming. Turning to face the door, she hesitantly reached out to touch the holographic lock, wanting nothing more than to run to Shepard's side and be his support, his shoulder to cry on despite his wish to be alone in examining the body. Come to think of it though, she couldn't imagine John crying. In fact, she didn't think she had ever seen him cry, not once. Either his pain ran deeper than she thought, or he really was that strong.
A sudden hiss came from the door. Startled, she jerked her hand away and watched as the locks slid into the wall. Shepard stormed out before the door was even half-way open, his shoulder clipping her as he stomped past. In that split second, however, she was able to make out the sheer rage plastered on his features. He had seen something in there he didn't like. Not one bit.
"Shepard, wait!" she strained to keep up with him. He could practically step through a mountain with that face! "Shepard, what's wrong? John!" she exclaimed, hoping he would respond better on a first name basis.
"Not now!" he snapped, never faltering in his pace. Tali was taken aback by the anger in his voice. For the first time she felt like he was talking at her instead of to her. He would never raise his voice at her; much less use that venomous tone unless he wanted to sleep on the cabin's couch for a week. What had set his nerves aflame?
She followed him all the way up to the coroner's office; passing Garrus, Wrex, and Grunt while pleading to him the whole way though he seemed completely deaf to it. They followed as he stormed into the coroner's office and watched as he walked up to the coroner, sitting at his desk, and swept everything off the desk in a fit of rage sending the items and clutter falling to the floor.
The spectre slammed a balled fist down on the desk and yelled, "Where is he!"
"W-where's who?" the frightened man stammered. Aggravated, the spectre lunged foward over the desk and grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt, bringing him mere inches from his face.
"David Anderson! Where is the body!"
"Shepard, stop it!" Tali pleaded.
Looking as if he was going to soil himself, the coroner replied, "It's not here! I...I released the body!"
"You did what!"
"A man came in here earlier, his credentials checked out! His clearance level was higher than yours, I swear!"
"I need a name! Who signed for the body!"
"I don't know! He had full body armor on! I couldn't see his face!"
"John, let him go!" Tali yelled, hoping he'd respond better to his first name once again.
Growling, as much as a human could, the spectre shoved the man back in his seat with such force that it broke the chair and left the man collapsed on the floor. He picked up a data pad laying on the floor with the rest of the desk clutter and saw a list of signatures. At the top, next to David E. Anderson, was the name "Roman Able." Furious, he tossed the data pad at the coroner, still sprawled out on the cold metal floor, then turned and stormed past his comrades and wife, who all ran out after him. He didn't know who this Roman Able was, or how in the hells of every religion he had the clearance to walk out with the late councilor's body, but he was dead-set on letting the council feel his disapproval. If he was truly put in charge of this investigation, surely he would have been informed of a body transfer. Something rather shady was going on in the background of this whole event.
The group stood in shock, watching the seething spectre storm out of the office and vanish around the corner.
"Would now be an inappropriate time for me to make a snarky comment?" Garrus asked, somewhat sarcastically. He regretted his question when he noticed Tali giving him her infamous death-glare out of the corner of her eye.
"Yes, Garrus...it definitely would be..."
"You think we should follow him?" asked Wrex.
"I'll talk to him...alone..."
…
"Noble Councilor's..." the spectre started, the disdain transparent in his tone. Once again, he found himself standing before the holographic projections of the three present citadel councilors. "I believe I was told I'd be given the full resources and cooperation of this council as well as Citadel Security... Now if I am to be heading this investigation, those resources must include the body of the late Councilor Anderson..." without warning, Shepard's tone instantly became full of anger. "So why in the hell was I not informed of the transfer of his body!" Taken aback by the spectre's sudden outburst, the three councilors shared looks of confusion with one another. The asari councilor was the first to answer.
"Commander Shepard, I'm afraid we are oblivious to what you speak of."
"The body of David Anderson was released to a Roman Able! Ring any bells?" the spectre asked.
"We are unfamiliar with that name, could it be that you have had some sort of psychotic break, Shepard?" Councilor Velarn asked in his expected tone of annoyance.
Slamming his fist on the terminal, the spectre replied, "The records show that he was given coded authorization, by you, to remove the body!"
"Please! Compose yourself, commander!" the asari councilor spoke once again. "I assure you we gave no such authorization, especially to no one by the name of Roman Able."
"Yeah? Well you can tell him yourself when I drag his ass back here in a body bag!"
"Commander, you're anger, righteous as it may be, is clearly misplaced. Continue your investigation and we will work our methods to locate this imposter," the Salarian councilor interjected. Exhaling his impatience, the spectre regained his composure.
"Yes councilor, I apologize for my unprofessional behavior..."
"We recommend that you visit the scene of the crime, commander. Observe and discover if you can find any details our forensic scientists may have overlooked. Consult with Ambassador Udina should you require anything further," said the asari councilor.
"Very well; I'll report when I have something..." With everything said, the spectre exited the secure room and back out into the main lobby. Though he didn't expect to find a certain angry quarian, arms crossed, and death-glare splayed on her face.
"John, I believe we need to talk..." sighing in frustration, the commander stormed past her; leaving her growling in frustration and chasing after him. "John! Don't you dare ignore me!"
"Now is definitely the worst time to talk, Tali..."
"I strongly disagree! You're angry, you're not yourself!" Shepard kept walking, not paying her any attention. "John Shepard! You're wife is speaking to you!"
"MY WIFE-" Shepard halted and grabbed her firmly by the shoulders. So firmly that she felt they would break from the pressure his hands were exerting, even through the suit. She winced in pain as he held her. "-is not the one dead and missing with a hole in the back of her neck!"
"John...let..." she shoved his hands away from her and rubbed her bruised shoulders. Looking at him as if he were a complete stranger. "What has got into your head?" He took a step back, shocked that he had injured the women he would die for. So many conflicting thoughts in his head. He turned and walked away; his head hung low in shame. Tali, for once didn't know what to do. Even before their relationship, she had always looked out for his well-being and known exactly how to help him. Now, all she could do was watch him deteriorate with rage. She stood there, helpless and hopeless.
"Keelah..."
…
"Shit!" Aranya cursed through gritted teeth, clutching the wound at her side as lasers whizzed past the shipping container that bore her only source of safety.. "Only you would trip the silent alarm on the first step! Seriously, that's gotta be rule number one in infiltration!"
"You can...sue me for pain and suffering when this is over! For now, blow it out your ass!" Zaeed retorted, pausing momentarily as a laser deflected off the crate he was using for cover.
"The only thing I'll be blowing outta my ass is blood, no thanks to you!" Aranya reached for a grenade on her belt, using her teeth to pull the pin.
"Flash out!" She yelled, tossing the flash-bang over the crate into the squad of enemy mercs. A loud pop followed by the screams of the mercs confirmed its success in blinding its targets. Zaeed and Aranya leaned out of cover in unison and picked off the mercs one by one; Zaeed with his new-found Mattock single-shot rifle, and Aranya with her Vindicator rifle.
Keeping their rifles leveled, they examined the bodies; three kills confirmed. Aranya lowered her rifle, wincing at the wound at her side. The half-alive turian on the ground choked as he used the last of his life to lift his rifle at the oblivious asari. Bang! A shot rang out from Zaeed's Mattock, missing her by mere inches and hitting the turian merc behind her in the neck. She quickly glanced at the fresh kill and back to Zaeed with a shocked expression.
"Doesn't mean we're engaged, love," he said with a smirk. Aranya rolled her eyes and nudged the turian's body with her foot to reassure herself. "Are you hit?" he asked, using his rifle to gesture to her wound.
"Shot grazed me, nothing I can't live with."
"Mm...that's too bad. Would've saved me the trouble."
"Whatever, you know you like having me around." Zaeed ignored her comment and proceeded to a set of blast doors.
"I don't see a control panel. They must have locked it from the other side," said Zaeed, examining the doors while contemplating for a way inside
"Well, this is the only way in."
"Breaching charge." Aranya reached around her waist, grabbing a single box-shaped device and tossing it to him. Zaeed caught it and immediately went to work; clamping it to the door frame and arming the device before sidling the wall. Aranya mimicked his action. "Clear!" No more than a second later, the charge exploded; destroying the door frame. The blast doors tumbled forward with nothing to hold them in place. Both charged in to find two batarian mercs working frantically at a series of control terminals which they suspected were the LOMAC targeting controls.
"Freeze!" Zaeed yelled. The two mercs panicked; each trying to reach for their side-arms before the human and asari put a few rounds in their chests. "They always wanna do things the bloody easy way..." Aranya ignored his attempt at bringing levity into the situation and dashed over to the terminal; shoving the limp body of one of the batarians off the control panel in the process before beginning her hack.
"Dammit! The controls are encrypted with a phrase password! I can't break it without an idea of what to-"
"Rage is a hell of an anesthetic," Brushing off her confusion, the asari entered the said password. Several seconds later, a chime confirmed their granted access and the asari hit the emergency shutdown option for the LOMACs and re-encoded the terminal to prevent them from being rebooted.
"Done! Orbital guns offline. Platoons 2 and 3 should be clear to land now. How the hell did you know that would work?"
"Best guess. Blue Suns weren't the only thing the bastard stole from me," Zaeed reached for his communicator. "Anto, Grizz, ground defenses disabled! Make this distraction a good one! We don't have much time before they figure out what it is were doing!"
…
Though reluctant, the human spectre set out for the presidium to examine the crime scene. By this time, night was approaching and the artificial sunlight had been disabled. Only street lights and the faint glow of synthetic moonlight remained. Stepping off the elevator, the spectre was greeted by Ambassador Udina, who's complexion was as rough and cold as ever. Even in light of current events.
"Commander, my condolences for the loss of Anderson. He was...an invaluable asset to the galactic community," the ambassador said with little to no remourse. He offered his hand which the commander reluctantly shook with little enthusiasm.
"Invaluable is quite an understatement, ambassador. But I'm not here for your council. I'd like to examine the crime scene."
"Of course, If you'd please follow me..." The walk took them near the still broken Krogan monument where a small area of the street had been surrounded and blocked off with holographic tape. A crew of C-sec forensic scientists were hard at work, collecting any evidence they could find. Passing harmlessly through the holographic tape, Shepard could see a massive pool of blood that made his stomach churn. It wasn't necessarily the sight of blood that bothered him, but the thought that it was the blood of someone very close to him.
Kneeling to examine it closer, the commander's thoughts became adrift; wondering what Anderson had experienced in his last moments. Considering that cervical decapitation was the cause of death, he probably had no idea he was even shot. Better that way, he supposed. He set his eyes on the laser-pointer tracer and followed it up to the balcony of the nearby hotel where flash-lights confirmed the presence of more C-sec personnel. He began to make his way to that very spot on the balcony, leaving the human ambassador behind without a word.
It was a completely different scenario. From what he could see, the forensic scientists had gathered little to nothing; simply mumbling to one another and ignoring his presence as they sifted through information on their hand-held data pads. Even with his keen eye, he couldn't spot a speck of hair or any trace of evidence that might point to an individual ever being present there.
Leaning over the balcony to look down on the crime scene from above, the commander felt as if his confidence had taken a tumble off the railing.
It was a dead end...
If it is any consolation..." Udina appeared along side him. "Even the council's private investigators were unable to gather anything of value. I honestly didn't expect anything more from you," Shepard cursed the ambassador silently. If this was his way of attempting to express sympathy, he was making a less than satisfactory effort at it. "It is probably best that we continue to confer with Executor Nidas. He has yet to present his results in the analysis of the perpetrator's weapon. You should get some rest commander, at least until his report has been delivered."
…
Having been unable to keep up with him, much less convince her husband to compose himself, Tali returned to the Normandy with the hope that he would soon return more relaxed and willing to talk. But after several hours of Shepard's continued absence, as well as that of Garrus, Wrex, and Grunt, she found herself becoming very apprehensive. Shepard had recently become a person she was unaccustomed to. Bitter and emotionally unpredictable.
Idly playing with the nutrient paste packet in her hands, her mind was hard at work and focused on her husband's condition. It was hard to believe he could have undergone such a drastic change so suddenly. The loss of his squad on Akuze, the death of his friend, Kaiden Alenko, even bearing witness to Sovereign's massacre of thousands of quarian miners hadn't broken him. She knew he suffered from nightmares occasionally. And with all they've been through, he had never found the time to grieve. He must have buried it all down inside himself; repressed his guilt and remorse until a stresser came along and ignited a ticking time bomb inside him. In this case, Anderson's death was the spark that lit the fuse.
"Not hungry?" she gasped at the sudden interruption. Looking up at Garrus who took a seat across from her, she realized just then that she had been the mess hall's only occupant for who knows how long. She had lost track of time thinking about Shepard. "Well Shepard did say something about me being ugly but I thought he meant it with humor."
"Garrus! Forgive me, I was light-years away. You just startled me is all," she replied courteously.
"Not a problem. Shepard already hit the sack, huh?"
"No. He's been gone for hours. I thought about trying his communicator but..."
"He's still got a that Klixen crawling around in his ass?"
"Um..."
"Sorry, been holding that one since the coroner's office. Had to get it out of my system," the turian said with a chuckle.
Tali sighed, burying her helmet in her hands. "Oh Garrus...I'm just so exhausted with everything that's happened. We've never had anything in the middle of us before-"
"You mean never had anything come between you?"
"Yes, not shut up and let me gripe!" Garrus waved his hands defensively while suppressing a grin. He never became bored with teasing her. "Anyway, I was going to say that I don't know how I'm supposed to react as his wife, much less have him communicate his troubles with me."
"Did you try talking to him?"
"Yes, but he didn't want anything to do with me! It's like he's forgotten that we're even married!"
"Since when have you ever let that stop you? Shepard's like a brother to me. I know him well enough to know that he's never opened up to anyone. You know he barely knew his parents, that he grew up in an anti-alien gang known as the Reds. But think about it. Has he ever gone into detail about any of it?"
Tali was speechless. Hearing such wisdom from the turian vigilante she'd known for years. He was right. Shepard had never shared anything! During their "alone time" she enjoyed sharing her past with him. By the time she finished, she would insist that she was babbling and that it was his turn to share. But he always gave her the same answer; saying that his past life was irrelevant and uninteresting. She figured he would open up in time, but hadn't realized she had put it off for too long. Now she was facing the consequences. "What should I do?" she asked.
"Talk to him in a way that he understands. With force. I'm not saying you should kick his teeth in, just get it across to him that you're not going to accept being married to a stranger."
This was truly an unfamiliar side of Garrus. But he was correct. She couldn't live in ignorance any longer. Either Shepard was going to open up his heart, or she was going to force it open herself. With new found resolve, she smiled and nodded to the turian before looking up at the ceiling and summoning the Normandy's AI.
"EDI, you have Shepard's transponder, where is he right now?"
"He is currently on the upper levels of the Zakera Ward, Mrs. Shepard. More specifically, a popular night club owned by a Volus named Doran."
"Flux. Oh Keelah!" Tali leaped from her seat and dashed for the elevator leaving a very confused Garrus behind.
"What? What's wrong with Flux?" Garrus thought for a minute before coming to a realization that in Shepard's current state of mind, he would go to Flux for the same reason all guilty individuals do. To "drown his sorrows."
R&R!