He could feel them. Everything moved when they came. He tried to still himself, quiet his breathing. As if that would help. He heard a scream as someone was pulled under. Funny how you can't tell people apart by their screams.
He looked over to Nolan, the soldier lying down and moaning, clutching at stomach. He'd be dead soon. That acid would eat at him, ignoring barriers and armor and burning straight into his flesh. Shepard had seen it with a few of the others who had followed him back to this point. He thought he'd had a plan – get to a high vantage point, somewhere they could see around them, somewhere rocky enough that the maws wouldn't want to burrow through. It seemed like a few boulders didn't bother them. Out of the twenty that survived the initial attack, seven made it to their current hiding place. Two were wounded. Two had tried to go back for dropped supplies. They screamed as they were pulled down.
He was so sick of the screaming.
"Shepard? Shepard, it's dead. We're fine."
What the hell was she talking about? He could feel them. "Jamie, I know you want to go back, but we can't. This is our best bet. We have to hold out until help comes." Nolan kept moaning. The dying noises of the others was fading. He felt so helpless. They had ran out of medigel yesterday. The acid hadn't stopped eating. "We're getting out of here, Jamie."
He was sick of saying that. Why did he always have to say that?
"Shepard, come on. We're fine. Let's get out of here and talk, okay?"
Her voice was calm. Jamie was strong. If anyone would make it out of this, it would be her. "We can't." He sighed. His breath was hot inside of his helmet. "You saw what happened to Toombs. I swear, they can feel it when we walk above them…" He heard a murmuring in the background. The injured soldiers were moaning again. Jamie didn't answer him. He looked over to her helmeted face. She was looking back at him, but her eyes were obscured through her visor. "We should have enough food to last us a few more days, if we're careful. I'm not sure about water. We may have to make a run back to that stream…" Shepard dreaded the thought. He shook his head. "It's too risky. We only do it if we have to."
"Shepard, please, look at me. We're fine. We're safe."
He tightened his grip on his rifle. He wanted to believe it, too. He had believed it after they took down the first. Then the second had come, taking their commander with the others. He wasn't going to make that mistake again. They had trusted him to get them somewhere safe. He failed most of them. And the monsters were still there, waiting to get rid of what remained of the marines. They were relentless. But he would be just as relentless. He'd be damned if he let everyone die again. "No, Jamie. We need to stay. The Alliance won't abandon us. They'll come."
He repeated his father's words and hoped that this time they wouldn't be too late.
"I'm sorry about Ramirez. He was a great guy." Shepard continued and glanced at her, wishing he could gauge her mood through her visor. He needed to know she was in this. "He wouldn't want you throwing your life away though. They're gone, Jamie. But we're still here. We can still do this." He pointed his rifle around the edge of the rock, glancing through his scope. The earth was silent, solid. Nothing moved. "I think we're good for a bit. I can take first watch if you want some rest." Shepard lifted a hand to his helmet, pulling it off, thankful for the breathable atmosphere. He ran his hand over his hair. Jamie didn't respond. She wasn't looking at him, her eyes were on the injured soldiers. They murmured weakly, death catching up with them. Finally, she turned around.
"Shepard." He looked at her, her voice soft. "Shepard, its Ashley. We're on the Normandy. We're safe, and on the Normandy. It's not real, Shepard."
His brain was throbbing painfully. "What? No. Jamie, you can't shut down on me. We need to make it out of here."
"It's Ashley, Shepard. This isn't real. This happened a long time ago, on Akuze. It's over." Her voice was still soft. He stared at her. Of course it happened on Akuze, they were on Akuze. But it couldn't be over. It was never over.
His grip tightened on his rifle. "Shepard, come on. Come back." She couldn't do this. She couldn't leave him here alone. His hand threaded its way through his hair anxiously. Jamie grabbed his arm. Her grip was gentle, and it slid down his arm to grasp his hand. "It's Ash, Shepard. We're okay." He stared at her, green eyes wide and desperate. He flicked his gaze over her visor. Her hand was reassuring, but it left.
She was wrong. It wasn't over. He would die this time. You didn't survive these kinds of things twice, especially in such a short time. He watched her, eyes still on her visor. He felt her remove his right gauntlet, but didn't bother asking why. "Please, Jamie. I can't do this alone again. Don't leave me here alone." He choked. Her hands lifted her helmet off, and suddenly he saw her.
Hands grasped his again, and he could feel her skin. Her brown eyes were supposed to be grey, her dark hair should have been mousier. She was so different, her features nothing like Jamie's.
"Shepard, you're not alone. I'm not going anywhere. We're alright. Come back." And the strong voice wasn't Jamie's.
They were all dead. Jamie, Nolan, Ramirez. Every single one of them died. She couldn't handle it. On the third day he found a bullet hole in her head. The Alliance had been too late. His mind screamed as he was dragged back to the present. His throat clenched down on itself as he choked on the air. He was alone.
The woman tightened her grip on his hands. "I'm here. It's alright." She was so strong. Ashley. It's Ashley. He stared into her brown eyes. They were warm, and he was able to breath. He lifted his unarmored hand to her face. Her eyes widened, lips parting fractionally in surprise. But she looked relieved. He had to feel her.
"You're real." He murmured, not really looking for an answer. The inside of the Mako drifted into view, his rifle lying beside him. The hatch was closed. "You're okay?"
"I'm okay. We're all okay."
His eyes searched hers, trying to affirm that her words were true. He became aware of how close they were, her armored legs pressed against his. He wanted to hold on to her, ensure himself that she was real. That he at least still had her.
But he didn't have her. His hand slid from her face, and he looked away. He was her commander. And she had seen him break. It had never happened on a mission before. Shame flooded him. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have fallen apart like that. It's…" He sighed, staring at the floor of the Mako. "I usually have it under control. It won't happen again." He dared a look to her face. Her brow was furrowed. "If you'd like to request another command, I understand." Her hand was on his again. His gaze widened.
"Shepard, don't be an idiot." She rolled her eyes. "You had a bad day. But with what you've been through, I'm sure most people would be doing a lot worse." He stared at her, stunned. She didn't loosen her grip. "If you think so little of me that I would leave because I saw you become a bit more real, I shouldn't be here to begin with."
"Ash, I didn't mean it that way…" He searched her eyes. "Thank you, for being here. For bringing me back. For staying. Sometimes I just get set off, and it's hard to remember… Just thanks." He looked away. She pulled his face to look back at her, her fingers lightly tugging at his jaw.
"I'm here Shepard, if you need to talk. Anytime." Her hand lingered. He felt the stubble on his jaw move as her fingers fell away. He missed them.
He nodded, unsure what else to say. He was too busy taking her in. Her brown eyes were warm with compassion. She was beautiful. He fought the urge to reach his hand to her face again. "The others…" His mind rudely reminded him of their current situation. "Did they see me like that?"
Ashley shook her head. "Garrus called ahead for Chakwas. She had the hangar cleared. Just in case…" She glanced at his rifle. "You wanted to more violently reenact it." Shepard sighed, running his hand through his hair guiltily. "They were both here, for a little while. She tried to talk to you, but you didn't respond to either of them. Just me, because you thought I was Jamie…"
Shepard nodded. "She was a friend." He muttered, figuring he owed her an explanation. "She was the last one alive with me." Ashley frowned, he looked away. "What about Garrus? Did he seem okay?"
Ashley shrugged. "Seemed fine to me. He's an especially hard turian to read." She sighed, and he quirked a brow at her "Have to give him credit though, he thought fast when it came to calling Chakwas. He had your back when you needed it. And he's a damn good driver."
Shepard felt himself smile. It was amazing how she could ease them out of him. "Did you just compliment a turian, Chief?"
Ashley glowered at him, then rolled her eyes. "I guess he's not too bad."
He chuckled. The sound was weak, but it was there. "Alright, I better go assess the damage." He moved towards the latch, opening it and climbing out. He grabbed his rifle, latched it on his shoulder, and then held his hand out for Ashley.
"Really, you think I need your help getting out of a car?"
He snorted, keeping his hand out. "Just trying to be a gentleman, Miss Williams." She took it and climbed out of the Mako.
"How chivalrous of you." She rolled her eyes, but he saw the smile hiding in them.
He offered a small smile back. "Ashley… Thank you." He ran his thumb over her knuckles then let go, walking through the empty hangar to the elevator.
xxxxxxxxxx
What the fuck, Shepard? He closed his eyes, head falling to his hands as he sat before his desk. What the fuck was that?
He was usually able to talk himself down, pull back and remind himself it wasn't real. But the flashbacks hadn't been that bad in years. Not since his leave after Akuze. It was all too much. Why was it that this mission was riddled with constant reminders of how much he fucked up before?
"Commander?" A familiar London accent sounded outside of his door. "Permission to enter?"
The Spectre leaned back in his chair and rubbed a hand over his face. Shit. He didn't do psych evals. His forced leave was the most he'd do for the military shrinks, and even that he had only agreed to after Anderson had told him he'd be discharged otherwise. It was all bullshit. Talking about it wasn't going to make it better – shit happened, and he would find a way to deal with it. Granted, this time he wasn't able to in time… He sighed. "Granted."
"Commander." Chakwas looked him over. He squared his shoulders, feeling like he was being assessed. "I believe it is time we talk about your mental health."
Shepard remained seated, and just watched her. She's got to be kidding. He kept his expression neutral, trying to figure out exactly where she was going with this. She stared straight back, pulling up a chair to sit facing him. The doctor crossed her legs and waited, apparently not going anywhere. They stayed like that a while. This is ridiculous. "Doctor, I apologize for my outburst, but it's dealt with. I'll take steps to avoid it happening again. Unless you need something else, there's nothing more to say."
Chakwas shook her head. "Commander, I think you know as well as I that this wasn't an isolated incident. Anderson informed me of your history and past behavioral issues. It seems, as far as I can tell, you've been living untreated with severe PTSD. It is time you stopped allowing it to interfere with your life and dealt with it."
Shepard deadpanned. Of course, it wasn't like he'd been expecting any less from her. Chakwas was never a woman that beat around the bush, and she was always a doctor who wished the best for her patients. But he was unable to find gratitude for this particular attempt at healing. "I'll get it under control."
"How is that, Commander?" She shook her head. "By avoiding the issues? Dulling it with alcohol and sleeping pills?" The doctor leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees. "You have developed some very unhealthy ways of coping with stress. Until you come to recognize your triggers and learn to confront and disarm them, you are risking continued outbursts of rage and flashbacks."
Shepard felt the lingering tension in him rise with each of her words. "This isn't your problem to deal with."
"Yes, it is." Chakwas didn't let down. As hard as he would try to pull away, he knew she would continue to push. "Commander, your behavior is out of control. If it hadn't been for Detective Vakarian's quick thinking and Chief Williams' intervention, I fear that this episode could have been much more public and much more dangerous."
"I know that." He growled. He sat back, trying to distance himself from her intruding stare. "I realize I failed them."
She shook her head. "You are failing no one, Shepard. But you are also helping no one by fighting my attempt to help you. There is no shame in being unable to face this alone, but you do need to face it. The memories will continue to hold power over you until you do." When Shepard didn't respond, she frowned. "I see how this effects you, Commander. Your distance from others, your extreme guilt when they are injured or killed. The bags under your eyes would tell me enough of your sleeping habits if you weren't already raiding my supply of sleeping medication. I am astonished that you have managed to be so productive with your obvious compulsions towards anxiety and isolation. And from what Captain Anderson told me, our trip to the Citadel wasn't the only time you disappeared and returned inebriated and bloody."
Damn. Glad to know I'm subtle. "My past is my business." Shepard said simply, unable to keep the edge out of his voice. The fact that Anderson had confided in her about his personal problems irritated him. As if the man didn't nanny him well enough from a distance; he now had to go and plant a mole on his ship.
"Why do you feel you can't talk about it?" Chakwas, as he expected, didn't back off. "You have been through some very intense and traumatic experiences in your life, Commander. Seeking help in coping with them is not something to be ashamed of. Post-traumatic stress disorder is common enough among marines for you to know that it can have serious consequences."
Shepard ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. "Can't you just give me some meds? I don't want to talk about it."
"I'm afraid I can't, Commander. Any medication I would give you would treat only some of the underlying symptoms. You must face it, and that means talking about it and how it makes you feel."
"I'm not really a feelings kind of guy."
"Yes, Commander. I have, in fact, noticed that." To his astonishment, Chakwas smirked. The expression faded quickly back into her professional guise. "I also have noticed that, despite that, you have grown attached to your crew. Chief Williams in particular. That she was able to serve as your anchor and pull you back during such an intense episode tells me you are not as far gone as you think. You still allow yourself to form relationships with those around you." He stared at the doctor uneasily. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but allowing people to get to close, to know you beyond the title, is something you usually avoid, yes?"
He frowned at her, and gave the slightest of nods. Having her read him so easily wasn't something he enjoyed.
"That's what I thought. The fact that you are beginning to allow someone in somewhat disproves your assessment on your capacity for feeling." Shepard glared at her. "You have had an incredibly trying life, Commander. I can see that a part of you yearns for something better, but you are holding yourself back from finding happiness."
He felt his fists tighten. Typical shrink bullshit. He respected Chakwas, he knew her to be a competent doctor. But she had no idea what she was talking about with this. This wasn't something he would just let her push her way into, not some cut she could quickly stitch up and scold him for.
"Commander, please. This is exactly what I'm talking about." She gestured slowly at his hands, clenched on his armrest. "You're fighting this, you're coping with the stress of my confrontation with anger and denial. It has to stop." Shepard inhaled deep, trying to calm himself down. She didn't stop. "If you don't face this, it will only get worse. You live too stressful of a life to be able to avoid it. It will interfere with your job. It will prevent you from developing any serious and lasting relationships. It will destroy you, Shepard." His hands came up, fingers digging into his scalp. "Commander, let me help you. You deserve to be happy."
His fists slammed onto his armrests. He jumped to his feet. "No!" He shouted. His heart pounded, shattering his chest. To her credit, Chakwas didn't flinch. "This isn't something I'm going to do. I don't get to just talk about it and let it go away. I'm alive. I fucking lived. I let them die. I listened to them scream, I watched as they were slaughtered." The bile was in his throat, the smoke and burning flesh came back to his nostrils. He shook as the screams echoed in his mind. Fuck. Breath. "If the worst I have to deal with are some bad days and a few relationship issues, I think I'll manage."
A few moments passed, his ragged breathing filling his cabin. He paced, rolling his neck back and forth. He tried to focus on the movement. Everything was already fuzzy after Edolus. He couldn't keep up. He rolled his shoulders and winced, the old, phantom pain from the thresher acid hitting him. He reached back to feel the scar, gnarled and ugly, but healed. He exhaled. Get a grip, damn it.
Chakwas watched him silently, her face sad. "Commander, I will say this every day until you believe it: none of it was your fault." He spun to face her, and she held up a hand. "I do not wish to fight you. But I will continue to try to help you until you order me off of the Normandy." He turned away, standing still and taking deep breaths. "We are all here for you. I am going to continue to try and get you to talk about it, but until you do, I recommend meditation. You need to find a way to relieve the stress this mission is putting on you." Shepard felt her lingering, watching his back. He glanced at her over his shoulder. "You are not alone, Shepard."
The commander watched as she left quietly, then leaned heavily against the wall. His heartbeat slowed, the peace of seclusion washing over him. But as he stared at the ceiling, all he could think of were her parting words. Of the words Ashley had murmured to pull him back.
You are not alone.