"Who should we make the toast in honor of?" Joker asked, holding a shot glass full of Serrice ice brandy up to the artificial light of the bar for inspection.

"Joker, we're doing shots. You can't toast with shots," Garrus fired back, holding a glass in his hand, identical except for its dextro contents.

"Can too."

"Well you can. It just seems disrespectful to toast the memory of someone with shots.

"And why the hell is that?"

"Because their sole purpose is to get you drunk. It's not like champagne or wine or-"

"Will you two quiet down?" Shepard groaned. "I did not ask the two of you to come with me so that I could listen to stupid arguments the entire time."

"Hey, if it wasn't for the two of us you would still be back at the hotel with the rest of the crew," Joker said, his tone just short of mocking. "I say you should have to put up with our "stupid" arguments considering that."

He had a point there. After Shepard had been checked out of the hospital, the crew of the Normandy had relocated to Illium. The planet was packed with refugees but Liara had used her resources to pull some strings and get them decent enough accommodations.

Joker had decided that now was the most opportune time to take Shepard up on her offer for a drink. Which was now problematic due to her doctor's orders. She had been instructed not to consume any amount of alcohol as it would interfere with her new medication. But was she really in the position to turn him down? When he had asked her she saw the desperation in his eyes. Desperation for contact that was based in sympathy. Desperation to forget. So she said yes. She could handle one night of drinking. Then she would quit completely. Easy.

Only two people knew what her condition was; Liara and Dr. Chakwas, who had been entrusted with Shepard's care upon her release. This meant that sneaking out was required. Garrus explained to them both that they were simply going out with Shepard to see the sights, relax a little. No alcohol involved. It took some extra persuasion to get Garrus to add that part.

All in all it wasn't the greatest lie but they seemed willing to let her have one night of relaxation. Shepard had earned it as far as both Liara and the doctor were concerned.

So off to the nearest bar the three friends went. They had all planned for a low-key evening but the second they entered the bar there were different plans. The bar's patrons had recognized Shepard instantly. Suddenly there were people crowding around her; shaking her hand and thanking her. And the drinks. Every time one of them finished a drink another was instantly thrust into their hands.

After the years of doubt and disapproval she had faced the gratitude felt good. Amazing even. And all of the praise and appreciation was starting to make it hard to keep track of exactly what number round they were on.

"Fine, fine, fine," exclaimed Joker, his statement startling the Commander out of her thoughts. "No toast to a dead person then. We'll toast to someone alive. Shepard, perhaps?"

"Wait, what?" she cried.

"You're the perfect person! Not dead, so we're not 'besmirching anyone's honor'," the pilot said excitedly. "And I would say that you're recent actions are particularly toast-worthy."

"But-"

"Commander, with all due respect, but make up your goddamn mind!" he hollered, ignoring Garrus's laughter.

"The shots are getting kind of warm."

"Alright fine. Go ahead."

"To Shepard then," Garrus called, lifting his glass high into the air.

"To Shepard!" Joker cried. The Commander simply lifted her glass in response before all three tipped the contents back into their mouths before slamming them back down on the table.

"And that is why it's disrespectful to the dead," noted the Turian, gesturing with his empty glass.

"Shut up Garrus," she shot back. "Besides, did anyone else notice that those don't seem to have a kick to them anymore?"

Joker laughed. "That's because you've had at least five of them."

"I thought we were on six," Garrus said.

"Five, six. What's the difference?"

"One glass?"

"Smartass."

"Will you two stop it? We need something else here. Something stronger. Something better."

"Shepard," said the Turian, suddenly sobering up. "This stuff here is 70% proof. Besides, you're already drunk enough."

She shook her head. "Not drunk. I don't have a headache. My stomach is fine. And there is nothing wrong with my voice."

"You breath smell like a distillery."

"I don't care." She cried, trying to make her voice sound as sober as possible. Maybe trying a little too hard.

"Well," Joker started. "Liara is going to care when you climb into bed with her reeking of booze after lying to her about where you were going."

"Liara? Oh shit. Shit shit shit." Shepard moaned, laying her head down on the table with enough force to rattle the glasses on its top. "She's gonna be pissed."

"Am I the only one who's lost?" asked Garrus. "Why all the secrecy? Why did you make me lie for you? Why did you make mention that there would be no alcohol?"

She raised her head, reluctant to answer. Her diagnosis made her feel weak. And Shepard knew the image that her friends had of her; one based on strength. And she wasn't strong. Especially now. But she had to tell them something.

The Commander leaned in, making her voice as quiet as possible in the noisy bar. "The doctors at the hospital kind of freaked out. They put me on some pill. Something to do with combat related PTSD. And I'm not supposed to drink."

"Wait what?" Joker said, waving away a waitress who was approaching them with another round. He leaned in closer. "Then what the hell are we doing here Shepard?"

"Because I wanted to help you."

Garrus sensed the personal nature of the conversation that was developing in front of him. "Um, I'll go get you a cup of coffee. See if we can't sober you up a little." Upon standing he reached out to give Shepard a pat on the shoulder. She winced at his touch, overly delicate. Like she was some fragile creature.

Joker watched the Turian leave before his eyes settled back on Shepard. "That doesn't make any sense," he hissed. "How does this help me?"

"I see how you hurt," she muttered. "I didn't know else to do."

"So you thought it would do what? Make me forget that pain?"

"I don't know!" she cried, not caring about the attention she was drawing to herself. "Maybe."

Shepard was surprised when he suddenly laughed. "Well you did it. You made me forget about her. For just a few moments. Good job."

"Really?"

"Yeah, you did. But at what cost Shepard? You're hurting yourself in the process!"

She shook her head rapidly. "No. I'm fine Joker. It's just one night."

The pilot raised his eyebrow at her statement. "One night? This is really it?"

"Yeah. This is it." Shepard gave a shuddering sigh before placing her head back on the table. "I lied about my head. It hurts."

"Figured as much," said Garrus, coming back with a steaming mug of coffee and placed it before Shepard. She picked it up and took a long drink before swallowing. "We need to get you back."

"Liara's gonna hate me." Shepard muttered, ashamed of how childlike she sounded.

"She's not going to hate you. Mad at you, yes," Garrus stated. "But not hate you. Now come on, let's get you home.

"Ugh," Shepard groaned as the Turian helped her to her feet and slung her arm over his shoulder. "How are you not falling over?"

"Because we're not lightweights," Joker butted in.

"Shut up."

"Yeah, you would think a tough marine like you could handle her liquor. And to think you wanted something stronger," Garrus laughed.

Shepard opened her mouth to bite back but felt herself nodding off. She tried to keep her eyes open but ultimately failed, falling asleep as Garrus half-dragged, half-carried her out of the bar.

She awoke on an unfamiliar bed, surrounded by scattered pillows and tucked in under a thick blanket. Shepard made an attempt to sit up but was instantly overtaken with a wave of nausea. Groaning, she lay back down and began to rack her brain, trying to figure out how she had gotten here. Wherever here was.

She had clearly been unconscious for some time, the taste of sleep evident in her mouth. But for how long? Suddenly a realization crossed her mind; there had been no nightmares. It was the first time in months that she had awoken without the remnants of a nightmare of swimming in her vision.

Her thoughts were interrupted by muttering outside of the closed door that was located on the right side of her darkened room. Shepard focused all of her energy on making out the voices.

"Don't go in there." Garrus.

"Why? She lied to me Garrus! She lied." Liara.

"So talk to her when she wakes up. Let her sleep."

"She could have gotten hurt! Do you not realize this?" Shepard had never heard Liara this angry before. And directed towards her. It was terrifying. But she deserved every ounce of the anger.

"Of course I realize it."

"Then why did you not stop her? Why did you encourage her? And why would you lie to me in order to do so?"

"Because I didn't know! No one told me that this had gone on. Shepard had done so many things for me and never asked for anything in return. So when she asked me to go out for a drink with her and Joker I couldn't say no. If I had known about her condition I would have refused!"

There that word was again. Condition. It hurt her to hear herself described in such a way.

Suddenly she heard soft crying outside of the door. "I don't know what to do Garrus," the asari choked.

Shepard had hurt Liara. Suddenly her pain, both emotional and physical, became meaningless. She had to say something. Had to apologize. "Liara?" she called out, voice raspy.

There was only a moment in between her call and the motion of the door slamming open. Liara stood in the doorway, tears on her cheeks. But her expression wasn't one of anger. It was one of fury. "Shepard," she growled. "What have you done?"

"I'm sorry. It was a mistake!"

"What gave it away?" Liara's tone dripped with venom. "You lied! You could gotten hurt. Goddess knows what you've done to your medication."

"It's a onetime thing. That's it. It can't have done that much damage."

"And how do you know that?"

"Liara, will you just listen to me?"

"Why? So you can lie to me more? So you can make more excuses?"

"Please," Shepard pleaded, hoping the sincerity in her voice was evident. She was used to negotiating problems, not begging.

There was a moment of silence before the asari seemed to visibly deflate as her angry expression left her face. "I-I just don't understand how you can care so much for other people but neglect yourself."

The Commander had nothing to say to this. She bit her bottom lip and sighed. "Maybe I can't care for myself. Maybe I can't fight like you want me to."

Liara put a hand on her hip and raised her other to her forehead in exhaustion. "Shepard," she began. "If you don't matter to yourself then think about what this does to me. I can't keep both of us going."

"Wait, what do you mean?" Shepard asked, her voice beginning to sound panicked.

"I can't keep this relationship going by myself."

The panic came full-force now. "So you would leave me?"

"No! I mean, yes, maybe. I don't know. All I know is that I can't handle this."

"But Liara-"

"Shepard, I just need to be alone. I need to think."

With that Liara stood up off the bed and walked out of the room and shut the door behind her with enough force to rattle the windows of the hotel room. And she didn't look back once.

Shepard sat up, ignoring her pounding head and the waves of queasiness to put her face in her hands. As much as she hated to admit it, there was never a time that she had wanted a drink as she did at this moment.