(Not For Me Anyway)
The SSV Montreal had been the Alliance's newest cruiser, finished only days before the Reaper invasion. Because of its newness it'd been quickly retrofitted into a mobile, armed hospital unit accompanying what was left of the Fifth Fleet as they moved system to system.
Wounded soldiers of all races had been shipped to the vessel and subsequently triaged, some already discharged with mild injuries that could be taken care of on other ships (though quarians were immediately transferred to the Migrant Fleet). But the presence of multi-racial patients wasn't the explanation for Hackett's presence.
It'd been three days. Three days since the Reapers were destroyed and the geth deactivated. Shepard had been in surgery for nearly twenty-four of those seventy-two hours, watched over by some of the Alliance's top specialists and a quickly recalled Miranda Lawson. The latter had been up for two days before she'd almost collapsed in Shepard's tiny ICU ward, after which the doctors forced her to go get some rest.
Shepard herself was still in critical condition, his inquiries repeatedly met with poor diagnoses and "night will tell"s. Because of her severe burns and laundry list of broken bones and internal damage and other injuries only her doctors and Lawson were even allowed in her room, and only then in full protective gear. "Infection risks," they said. "Bad shape," they said.
"Tonight will tell," they always said.
Even Miranda wasn't sure anymore if it was her implants or her brainstem keeping her alive.
Hackett drew to a halt outside the glass isolation room next to Admiral Shepard, silently looking through the window.
He didn't know half the machines she was connected to. It seemed that barely an inch of the room was free - a heart monitor next to the bed monitoring her thready pulse, nodes on her shaved and burnt scalp monitoring tiny, nearly imperceptible spikes in brain activity, a tube forcing air into her scorched lungs. She looked thin and tiny and weak, nothing like the woman who'd taken on two Reapers on foot, who'd united a galaxy and ended conflicts older than the Alliance.
A small shrine of datapads had started on the floor in a corner of the window, each one flashing well wishes and thanks into the room, held onto it by repair tape and probably glue, if he knew Alliance personnel. Hackett wrapped his arm around fellow Admiral Hannah Shepard's shoulder, and she leaned into him with barely a word.
"Any change?"
"Nothing," she replied quietly. "Still the same."
He nodded, casting his eyes around the room again. No. No change at all.
"Have you heard from them?" Hannah asked. He didn't need to ask who she meant.
"No."
Hannah nodded and sighed heavily, looking down at the dog tags she held clenched in her hand. The dog tags with one that wasn't her daughter's own, and a thick silver band that dangled off its own shorter chain. She'd had something to live for, going into this.
Something to live for that wasn't answering hails to his ship. Her ship.
"It's like Elysium all over again," she murmured. "The waiting, the not knowing . . ."
Hackett swallowed. "It's worse than Elysium."
"I know." She looked back up through the window. "I can't do this, Steven. I can't lose her a second time.
He fished for a few seconds. Hackett had been forced to inform so many families that their loved ones were dead, dying, or hanging on only by sheer force of will, but it had never been like this.
The first time he'd been forced to tell her that Shepard was dead, it'd seemed that everything had died somewhere inside her. Service had taken both her husband and her daughter from her, but she continued to throw everything she had into it. And now, service was doing it again, only this time more painfully.
It was one thing to be told that someone had died. It was another to see it happen so slowly in front of you.
"The doctors here are some of the best in the galaxy," he said finally, and it was true. Several of the Salarian Union's best physicians had traveled with the fleet and soldiers they'd sent, anticipating massive injuries, and several had been consulted about Shepard's. "And no one wants to lose her."
"Yeah," Hannah replied half-heartedly. "If only the universe cared about well-wishes and hopes." Without another word she pulled away and started back down the hallway. Hackett watched her leave for a few moments - likely returning to get the Crucible scientists back to work - and glanced back into the room.
"You pull through, Commander," he ordered quietly, before his omni-tool blipped. A quick check noted who it was - the Council. With a shake of his head, he turned and left the window.
Inside, Shepard didn't stir.
#
It was two more days before the exterior damage to the Normandy was fixed, and the crew used their break to hold a small memorial before attempting to get the mass effect core back online in a final test of their repairs.
Joker had added EDI's name, though Tali swore she could fix the AI with the proper materials. Kaidan carefully lifted Anderson's name into place after hers was up, his hands shaking as he did. There had yet been no mention of Shepard, though the VI reading the list had only gotten to the Ns that morning.
There had been a lot of "Mc"s.
He stepped back, drawing a slow breath. Someone should probably say something, he thought, but he'd be damned if he could think of anything. Fortunately no one else seemed to be willing to speak either.
Liara cleared her throat, hesitantly handing him another strip of metal. He looked down at it and his breath caught in his throat.
Cmdr. M. Shepard
"The feed isn't at S yet," he said quietly, making a move to thrust the plate back at her. "We don't know."
"Kaidan," she said quietly. "Kaidan, you ha-"
"I am not putting this on the wall until we know," he snapped. "When I . . . When I hear that she's gone, I'll put it up, but not before then. Dismissed." He turned on his heel and stepped back into the elevator, clenching the metal plate so hard that it dug into his palms. Before the door had even closed, he could feel pain flaring up around his implants. That was the last fucking thing he needed.
Once in the Loft, he kept the lights turned off and staggered, unthinking, to the bed. He hadn't yet been able to sleep in it, not without Shepard there to sleep beside him. For the past week he'd slept on the couch, face buried in one of the dress jackets she'd worn on the ship, still bearing the smallest trace of her on it but not enough that it wasn't bearable. But now force of habit pushed him to the bed, prompted him to throw the nameplate aside and bury his face in her pillow, breathing in the scent of gun oil, eezo, and the faintest trace of her jasmine-vanilla shampoo.
It was about then that his resolve broke. Clutching her pillow to him and fighting off the migraine building in the back of his skull, he didn't fight the first tear, nor the second, nor the body-shaking sobs that came after it.
"I'm worried about him," Liara said, pacing the batteries two decks down. Garrus, Chakwas, Tali, and Joker stayed silent as the asari rambled. "None of us want to believe it, but . . . we have to. Shepard's . . ."
Garrus held up a talon. "We know, Liara. But he's right. And even if he isn't, we can't force him into it. He'll have to come to terms with it on his own."
"Shepard's lived through worse," Tali added.
"The Citadel was exploding," Liara protested. "She can't . . . it can't . . ."
"I know you're trying to help," Chakwas said gently. "None of us believe you aren't. But you need to let him do it on his own." She straightened off the board. "You should get back to work. I'll check on him." She strode out and towards the elevator.
She knew how he'd dealt with Shepard's first death. She'd been the only person who'd watched him break - partially due to her close association with him thanks to his migraines - and she recognized the signs. She knew.
Chakwas quietly opened the door to the Loft and stepped through. Sure enough, the lights were off, and as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could just make him out curled up on the bed.
"Major?" she murmured.
"Top drawer, left side," he hissed, voice uncharacteristically raspy. Chakwas found the syringe and made her way over to the bed, injecting the drug into his arm. "Doctor . . ."
"Sh. You know you shouldn't talk."
"She's not dead," Kaidan continued, voice almost silent. "I'd know. I'd know."
"I know, Kaidan," Chakwas replied, gently reaching out to rub his back. "Just hold onto that. I'm sure she's fine."
"I have to know. I have . . . I love her."
"I know."
She stayed next to him until his breathing slowed, one hand gently rubbing his arm, and he fell into a drug-induced sleep.
#
"We need to focus all efforts the relays. All other rebuilding can wait."
Hackett sighed, leaning heavily on the table. "Councilor -"
Tevos shook her head. "Admiral, I understand that your scientists and engineers wish to help the rebuilding efforts on Earth, but too many of the asari and salarian relay specialists are systems away. The relays must be our primary focus."
"If you had let me finish, Councilor," Hackett continued, holding up a hand. "I will do my best to get people on board, but I can't guarantee they'll be thrilled about it. It may take a couple days."
"We may not have all the time you say you need," Sparatus interrupted, drumming his talons on the table. "The quarian liveships that accompanied the fleet will sustain us for some time, but we will run out of food."
"I'll do my best," Hackett repeated. "I'll do what I can. I'm warning you that without - it may not be enough." He was good, yes, but if anyone could've gotten everyone to focus, it was Shepard. But Shepard wasn't there, so attempting to reunify the disparate races of the galaxy was a thankless task that fell to him. "You will need to see to your own species."
And then there was the Terminus fleets. Damn. That's where he really could have used her.
Velarn held out a hand. "We'll do what we can," he said. "Trying to demand more is unfair to all of us. Every species has taken a great loss. I am certain that the humans will do what they can to assist us; but meanwhile, perhaps we and the asari should begin work on the relays."
Tevos nodded, and sighed heavily. "The humans have been hit hardest by the Reapers. We should respect that. I'll collect the asari we have here and attempt to open a secure line between Thessia, Sur'Kesh, and our fleet."
Hackett nodded. "I'll contact the Crucible scientists and do what I can."
"We'll attempt to keep a handle on the krogan," Sparatus said. "But without the Primarch . . . Urdnot Wrex may not be willing to cooperate."
"He'll cooperate," Hackett replied. They'd better.
They'd all better.
. . . Perhaps Wrex would be able to keep a handle on the Terminus clans, as well. Hackett made a note to contact him. It was better than nothing, after all.
#
"Ma'am."
The petite dark-haired woman ignored the orderly at first, making her way down the intensive care unit's halls. She wore a utility uniform that was too long for her, the civilians being run through the medical facilities on the Montreal often arriving in clothes too tattered for wear and given spare uniforms. She had the look of someone who had just gotten out of the routine checkups they were still performing.
"Ma'am!" he called again, picking up his pace. She turned. "Are you looking for a specific room?"
"Yes." She extended her hand. "Helena Alenko. I heard that a young woman came in here wearing half of my son's tags. I want to know who." She slid her eyes down to his nametag. "Michael."
"Uh . . ." He reached for a datapad. "What's your son's name?"
"Kaidan Alenko. Major Kaidan Alenko. He's a Spectre too. I'm sure you've heard of him."
Michael went pale, looking down at his datapad and back up at the diminutive woman. "Ma'am, I-"
"Don't ma'am me again." She pointed at him. "This young woman came in and there's only one reason soldiers ever trade tags, and I want to know who it is."
"Ma- Mrs. Alenko," he said, after a heavy breath. "Ma'am, the soldier you're asking about is Commander Shepard."
She didn't seem taken aback. "Of course it is. Now where is she?"
"Ma-Mrs. Alenko, only people with proper clearance-"
"Michael." The young man saluted as a woman in uniform, her graying red hair chopped at her jaw, came through the door behind them from the hospital proper. "Is there a problem?"
The orderly paled even further. "Uh . . . A-admiral, this is . . . This is Mrs. Alenko."
"Ah. Major Alenko's mother." The woman extended her hand. "Rear Admiral Hannah Shepard."
"It's good to finally meet you," Mrs. Alenko answered, grasping her hand. "Helena Alenko."
"I'll take it from here, Michael." The orderly nodded and scurried back to the desk. "She's back here, Mrs.-"
"Just Helena, please."
"Helena, then." Hannah gave her a smile, though it was tense at the corners of her mouth and belied an underlying concern. "How did you find ou-"
"Someone mentioned that a woman with half of Kaidan's tags was in ICU. I suspected it was Commander Shepard, but I wanted to be sure."
"So you know?"
"Of course I know. You didn't?"
Hannah chuckled. "Of course I did. There's . . . something else." She fished in a pocket on her uniform and handed her a set of dog tags. Helena ran her thumb over the raised type.
Shepard's had an N7 slashed across the blank side, rather than a raised Alliance one. The one dangling next to it on its own small chain was her son's, raised Alliance symbol on the back and his name and class on the front. Dangling on top of it was a bulky silver ring inset flush with a single blue stone, with smaller blood-red ones around it.
"They're engaged," she said quietly. Hannah nodded.
"He did it right, you should know," she said. "He sent a message to me, asking my permission. He said he would have called, but the Crucible's location was classified . . ." She took a deep breath. "Either way, Shepard isn't awake."
"How bad is she?" Helena breathed, running her thumb over the stones.
"Bad." Hannah stopped at a window, and Helena ducked her head after a quick glance through.
"May I have a few minutes?" she asked quietly. Hannah nodded, though she hesitated before walking back towards the nurse's station. Helena lifted her hand and pressed it flat against the glass, looking up at the still, frail looking woman inside the room.
"Pull through," she murmured. "Don't make him bury you again."
Helena stepped away from the window and walked back, finding Hannah leaning back against the nurse's station. With a smile she handed Shepard's tags back, and nodded. "How is the tea in this place, do you know?"
Hannah raised an eyebrow, and replied with a weak smile. "It's mostly coffee, you know."
"Well," she replied. "I say we find out. Don't you agree? Come on."
If Helena had been asked, she would have said that she was terrified. Her son was missing, her only concern now that her husband and daughter were both MIA. But there was nothing she could do except worry, and when it was Kaidan the worrying was second-nature between his job and his implants. But she could do something now. She could fret over his fiancee and her mother, because if there was anything Mrs. Helena Alenko was good at, it was fretting over others.
And if that meant, right now, pushing Admiral Hannah Shepard into getting out of the ICU ward, she'd do it.
#
The mass effect core, despite Tali, Adams, Donnelly, and Daniels' best efforts, did not want to come back online. Food supplies, already heavily rationed, were getting even more scarce. The biotics felt it the worst, their metabolisms begging for food, but no one dared try and hunt for food outside the ship. And Tali, Victus and Garrus were keeping careful stock on the dextro-safe food, though the looks they gave one another spoke volumes more than anyone could ask.
Kaidan pushed around the small pile of food on his plate, head resting on his fist as he stared at it blankly. The outgoing comm systems weren't working either, and they'd had to turn off the incoming comms to save power when the VI was only in the Ps.
It'd been yet another week, and they were no closer to getting off the planet, and he was no closer to know what'd happened to Shepard.
"I'm letting them dismantle my equipment."
His head jerked up. Liara blinked at him. "What?"
"I'm letting them dismantle my equipment. To help with the core? I don't know if it will, but it's worth a shot." She had already cleaned her plate, and tapped her fork against it. "Glyph is integrating with the Normandy's systems. He . . . he's not EDI, but . . ."
"Liara . . ." He held up his hand. "Thanks."
"Kaidan, you need to eat." Liara had long moved from trying to get Kaidan to admit that Shepard was likely dead to attempting to keep him alive long enough to admit it. He nodded.
"I know." He did. If he didn't eat his metabolism would destroy him from the inside out. It didn't mean he wanted to stomach the food. He forced himself to eat the all-too-small portion, reminding himself that Shepard would kill him if he didn't.
::Hey, Alenko? Adams is asking for you in engineering.::
He looked up and sighed. "Thanks, Joker."
"I've got this," Liara said, sliding his plate onto hers. He nodded and made his way to the ladder in life support - they didn't want to use the elevators for risk of losing even more power. Sliding down it, he made his way to engineering. The drive core didn't hum back in his implants, sitting dark and silent in the back of the large room. The engineering team stood silently in front of it. The air rang with the end of a vociferous argument.
"So," Kaidan said. "You asked for me?"
"Kaidan, yes," Tali replied. "We have a problem."
"I figured as much." He looked between the four-member team. "And?"
"We can't bring the core back online," Adams said.
"No." Tali held out a three-fingered hand. "We can."
"Can you or can't you?" Kaidan demanded. Any delay here . . . the more time they wasted on this planet . . .
"We can," Adams answered reluctantly. "But it involves someone going into the core itself. We've got the safety equipment for it but if anything spontaneously comes online . . ."
"Tali, Adams, you can ensure it doesn't."
"Well yes," Adams said. Tali nodded. "But the danger's still there."
"Who would go in?"
They were quiet, then Donnelly cleared his throat. "I would."
Kaidan stared at him for a few seconds. "This will tell you exactly what the problem is?"
"Without EDI to tell us?" Tali said. "It's the only way. Adams and Daniels didn't want to put Donnelly at risk."
But Tali was willing to - it was back in her voice. Not because she had any ill will against the engineer, since she'd worked with him longer than Adams. But after a life of living on the Fleet, doing whatever it took to sacrifice oneself for the others . . .
"Do what you can," he said. "Donnelly, if you want to risk it, do it. Adams, we need to get the Normandy in the air. That's our top priority." He nodded. "We need to be careful, but -"
::Alenko! Got another emergency! Need you upstairs, like, now!:: This time Joker's voice was hurried, which meant something several more shades of bad was happening upstairs.
Kaidan grit his teeth. "Do it," he snapped, sprinting back for the ladder. "Joker, give me details."
::Liara's going to rip the shit out of Allers.::
He couldn't say that he blamed her, but - "In the mess?"
::Yeah - look, hurry, we just repaired that bulkhead, I don't want it ripped out again.::
Kaidan launched up the ladder and back into the mess. The mess had all but emptied, with James and Javik watching avidly from the steps to the sleeper pods. Liara had caught the reporter in a strong stasis in front of her quarters, glowing lividly.
"-imes have I had to tell you that you do not go into my quarters!" Liara yelled, voice high. James looked a little bit shaken, while Javik merely munched on his rations and watched in his usual amusement. "This is the twelfth time since we crashed on this god-forsaken planet that I've caught you sneaking around, and -"
"Liara," Kaidan interrupted. She frowned, slowly discharging her flare and releasing Allers from her stasis.
"If I ever catch you near my quarters again . . ." Liara threatened, then spun on her heel and retreated to her previous system harvesting. Allers brushed off her dress, and spun on Kaidan.
"Did you see that?!" she demanded, pointing after the asari. "You're in charge of this ship! You should-"
"Just . . . go back to your quarters or help Joker with the comms and don't bother Doctor T'Soni anymore." Kaidan waved his hand. Allers huffed and stalked off towards life support, and Kaidan glared back at James and Javik. "You two have something to do?"
"Nope," James said. "Just watching the show."
"Well stop watching the show, and get back to work." He motioned around the ship. "This thing isn't going to fix itself."
James chuckled and headed off, dumping his dishes into the scrubber. Javik blinked at Kaidan with all four eyes, and followed suit.
"In the future, Major," he said as he passed him. "You should let T'Soni tear her apart. She is a . . . useless person. They were illegal in the Empire."
"Stop with the 'illegal' bit and I just might let you airlock her," Kaidan retorted.
The Prothean paused and cocked his head slightly, then the smallest twinge of what may have been a grin jerked at the side of his mouth and he trotted off chuckling to himself. Kaidan sighed.
How the hell did Shepard run a crew of misfits like this? Two weeks had been far more than enough for him, and she kept this up for months.
He needed her back.