Roarkshop Here: I try not to be a "If you don't like it I don't care" kind of author. I read everyone's comments and take them all into consideration as best I can. That being said, I'm going to have to use it this one time. Yes, this whole chapter is a flash back, no I don't care if you don't like flashbacks. I worked very hard on this chapter and I am really, genuinely proud of it to the point where even I enjoy reading it still. So if you do not like flashbacks, I am sorry and I promise the next chapter will not be a flashback. Feel free to skip this chapter if you want. Otherwise, I do hope beyond hope that you like this chapter! ^_^

I had a super busy week so I didn't get to reply to everyone's comments like I usually do and I apologize for that. I will try my damndest to reply to them all this week. LOVE YOU GUYS! And Have a safe and wonderful week!

LOVELOVELOVEY LOVE LOVE

Roarkshop

Goddamn batarians, Zaeed thought, walking down a cold, snow covered street of New York City. The Alliance wasn't going to do a god damn thing about the terrorists inching closer and closer to their colonies and Zaeed knew it. Anderson knew it. They all knew it. He had tried to tell them that diplomacy only works if all parties were playing by the same rules, and the batarians certainly weren't. Politics and bullshit; Zaeed had enough of both for a lifetime, and goddamn if he wasn't going to let them know it. His leave was up in two days, and the Alliance weren't going to get any smarter, that was fucking certain.

He walked and walked, getting rather lost in thought as he went. He was snapped out of his thoughts when he accidentally shoulder-checked a small girl who made a surprised 'umf' noise and stumbled down onto her knees. She had a hood on so he didn't get a good look at her, but her jacket was dirty and full of holes, and he could tell she was most likely a street urchin.

"Eh, sorry 'bout that darlin'" he said as he held out a hand to help her up, but she stood and just ran past him, without even looking in his direction. He watched her round the corner at a full sprint, and scratched the back of his head curiously. "Daffy twat," he said to himself, before realizing he felt a little light. He quickly patted his pockets and found the familiar lump of his wallet was gone. "Why, that little bitch," he cursed before taking off after her.

He could hear the crunch of the snow under his boots as he ran, dodging civilians, and turned into the alleyway. She must have already disappeared out the other side because it was empty. Cursing to himself again, he burst out the other side of the alley and onto the street, but there was no sign of her. Hell, she could have been right under his goddamn nose for all he knew, just blending into the crowd right in plain fucking sight.

"Goddamn shit fuck," he cursed, kicking the snow and earning himself a few concerned looks from the passers by. "Hell of a way to end a day."

He jammed his hands into his coat pockets and walked down the sidewalk for a while, letting his eyes scan over the faces of whoever he passed as if she was going to magically appear out of nowhere. He knew damn well he wasn't going to find her again, damn street goblins and their bullshit. Zaeed didn't care about the money, really. But all of his IDs were in there and that meant wasting an entire shit-fuck day at the Alliance shit-fuck office in New York applying for a new one. Shitty fucking fuck.

He checked his watch. The banks would be closing right about now so he didn't even have the time to go get some cash for dinner.

"Oi. Zayed," came a small voice from behind him. He cringed internally at the familiar sound of someone mispronouncing his name, and turned around to see the girl who had robbed him, standing defiantly with her hands in her pockets. She gave him an appraising eye, scanning him from his eyes, down to his toes, and back up. He almost froze now that he had a good look at her face. It was smudged with dirt and soot and a lone lock of flame colored hair fell down in a loose curl. The gaunt in her face made it obvious that it had been a long while since she'd had a decent meal. She had fierce green eyes and bright as they were, there was a darkness in them; A darkness Zaeed knew all too well.

Though that wasn't any excuse to be a cunt, now was it?

"Now listen to me you little-" he tried to threaten. But she interrupted him by tossing his wallet into his chest, which he caught clumsily.

"Take it," she said with a scoff as she turned to leave.

He narrowed his eyes and quickly went through it. All his money, ID's, and credit chits were accounted for.

"What the Christ?" he said, looking back to the girl. "What was the point of all that?"

She turned to look at him over her shoulder, her cold gaze meeting his. She motioned her head at the wallet. "Military ID. You're a soldier."

"And?"

"And I don't steal from soldiers." As if that justified everything, she turned away and headed back down the street in the other direction.

That was the first time in damn near twenty years Zaeed had been stunned into silence by a woman. Before he even knew what he was going to say, he took the few steps to close the distance between them and turned her around by her shoulder. She immediately flinched, jumping from his touch and batting his hand away like she instinctively thought he was going to hit her.

"What?" she demanded, fixing her furious gaze on him.

"Listen, Red," he said. "You are obviously too good a person for your own goddamn survival and you look like a goddamn wraith. Come on, I'll buy you something to eat. You know, for returning my wallet or whatever."

"You fucking stupid, Old Man?" she said, narrowing her eyes at him. "I'm the one that stole your wallet."

"Hey. You want a goddamn sandwich or not?"

The girl unconsciously put her hands on her stomach and looked down at the floor. Zaeed noticed that her boots were about 5 sizes too big, and for men. She was covered in soot smudges and reeked of cigarettes. She looked off to the side and the shame in her face was obvious.

"Well I'm goin' to my favorite restaurant and I'm gonna buy two dinners. Hopefully someone shows up to eat the second one." With that, he turned around and walked away. He moved his head slightly to the side and heard that she had started following him. He exhaled and watched the steam of his breath leave him and shook his head.

Kids these days, he said to himself.

The girl didn't speak two words together. She wouldn't even talk to Peter, the owner, when he asked her what she wanted, she just kept her eyes on the floor the whole time. Zaeed ordered two of his usual: a double pastrami on rye with horseradish and a side of chips.

"Maybe put the horseradish on the side for one of 'em, ay?"

"You got it, Zaeed," Peter said from behind the counter, eyeing the girl. Once they found a table he set the second sandwich, rather ungracefully, in front of her and took the seat on the other side of the booth. He took a bite of his sandwich and temporarily forgot that the girl was even there. He couldn't say much about this bullshit city, but goddamn did Peter make a good sandwich. After his second bite he looked up, mouth full, and noticed that she hadn't touched her food.

"What?" he said through his food. "You a goddamn vegetarian pussy or summin'?"

"Fuck you, man," she said, glaring at him. "Why are you doing this?"

Holding his sandwich, he flipped his hand over frustrated. "What are-"

"This," she said motioning a hand at her food. "Why are you being nice to me?"

"I don't need a reason, you nutty twat."

She narrowed her eyes at him and spoke; sternly and plainly.

"You want to fuck me, Old Man?"

Stunned. Again.

He just blinked at her for several moments with his mouth full of food. His peripheral vision was picking up all the people around him turning to stare at the girl, but she didn't notice. She just continued to keep her cold green eyes on his, calculating, unwavering, unafraid.

"Are you daft?" he asked finally, swallowing half the food in his mouth. "How old are you? Fifteen?"

"Answer the fucking question."

"Why in the bleedin' hell would I-"

"I won't be anyone's tool, you hear me? I won't be bribed into being used."

"Would you quit your yammering for five goddamn minutes and eat the bleedin' sandwich? Christ."

Her eyes widened a bit but eventually fell back on the food in front of her, obviously having made a tremendous effort not to eat it until this point. She lifted her hands and took down her hood, letting the loose ringlets of copper curls fall down her shoulders.

Christ, she was a beautiful kid. What was she doing on the goddamn street? What the hell kind of life had she had up to this point? What put her here?

Whatever. It wasn't Zaeed's business. He kept telling himself he didn't care.

She ate like it had been months, barely tasted the food as she rifled it down her gullet. She didn't speak again either, thank god. Instead, uncomfortable with the silence, Zaeed spoke as he ate. He prattled on about his last mission, about all the batarians he killed, all the other lives he saved. Alright, he embellished a little bit, but that didn't make it any less fucking impressive right? Red certainly seemed to be enjoying the story.

"The job got done and that's all that mattered," he said. "I was the only one to make it out alive, but a win is a win is a win."

The girl smiled, having polished off the last of her food and listening intently to his story. Her whole face lit up when she smiled. This girl was going to be trouble for someone one day.

"So, Red," he said picking up a stray chip and putting it in his mouth before pushing the rest of them across the table to her. "Why's a pretty thing like you reduced to picking pockets and running through the gutter?"

She shrugged her shoulders and sank down against the booth, picking up individual chips and eating them. "Never had anything you could call a home. And the only person I ever considered family was… well she…" She cleared her throat and shook her head to try and erase the memory. "Anyway, I just keep to myself. I can only worry about right now, you know? I'll worry about getting away some other time I guess."

"Get away," he said, quirking an eyebrow. "Get away from what?"

"All of it," she said, looking off to the side.

"I know the feelin'" he said with a chuckle. "That's why I joined up with the Alliance all those years back. Figured they'd get me out of the hell hole I was in, if nothing else."

She scoffed. "The Alliance would never take trash like me," she said.

"You've got working limbs, haven't ya?"

"What about it?"

"Well that seems to be the minimum goddamn requirement now-a-days."

"Really?" she said, sitting up. "You think they'd let me in?"

He rubbed his chin and studied her for a minute, studied the hope in her face.

"Tell you what, if you really want in I can get you there." He propped his elbow up on the table and pointed at her. "But I won't put my neck on the line for some spitfire what aint got the conviction to see it through to the end, you got that?"

She nodded and chewed on her bottom lip.

"Think about it," he said as he stood to leave.

She stood and tucked her hair back up under her hood and grabbed the rest of the potatoes, stuffing them into her coat pocket. Then she turned and followed him out, goading him into telling her another story. He obliged, animating his hands as he spoke, walking side by side with her down the snow covered street.

"Pow," he said, making his hands into a gun. "Cacked him right between the eyes. The four-eyed pillock didn't even see it coming."

Every time they walked under a street light, it would light up her face as she looked up at him, watched him, almost studied him. He turned to walk up the stairs into his hotel, and looked back to see her looking at him from the sidewalk as the doorman held the door open for him.

"Well?" he said, waiting for her.

"Well what?"

"What, are you planning to sleep in the goddamn blizzard like a snowshoe? Come on." He started to turn around but stopped short and looked back at her again. "And don't get any of those stupid ideas about me and my taste in women. There will be no bullshit, understood?"

She quirked a brow and tilted her head to the side, then cautiously followed him up the steps. The doorman went to say something to him, but Zaeed put his hand up before he had the opportunity.

"Keep it to yourself would ya, Jackass?"

They silently went into his hotel room, and she half gasped when she saw how big it was.

"Does the Alliance pay this well?" she said, looking around.

"No," was all he said in reply, going into the bedroom. He emptied out his pockets on the side table and sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. After a couple deep breaths he grabbed a blanket and went back out into the main room. She was still standing by the door, making sure to keep her eyes on it like she was waiting to have to make a break for it.

"It's so warm in here," she said. Zaeed suspected she was just trying to break the silence.

"Figure that out on your on did ya?" he said with the quirk of a brow. "That's what happens when you don't sleep with the bloody vermin."

"Screw you, man," she said, biting down a smile. He laughed and tossed her the blanket, which she caught against her chest.

"Couch is all yours," he said, pointing over to it. "There's a shower through there if you're interested, and there's a lock on the door in case you still think I'm some kind of bleedin' pedophile. I'll be in here. Don't wake me up unless the building's on fire."

Then he left her, closing the bedroom door behind him and leaning against it with his face in his hand. He'd certainly gotten himself into a mess hadn't he? But Christ, what was he supposed to do? She was just a child, for fucks sake, fighting for survival in the goddamn street like a dog. Whatever the case, he felt for her. Maybe it was those bright eyes, tainted by the twinge of darkness, or maybe he just saw too much of himself in her.

"Ah, fuck it," he said to himself, taking off his boots and plopping himself into bed. It was a little too complicated for him, so he just went to fucking sleep. That was something he was fully capable of doing.

Not with an orphan on the god damn couch, apparently.

Zaeed woke up a few hours later to the sounds of… well for lack of a better word for it, whimpering. He rarely slept through anything anymore. The slightest noises would put a gun in his hand before he had even managed to reach full consciousness. So there he was, in the clothes he had fallen asleep in, with a gun in one hand that he didn't even remember grabbing. As his consciousness very rudely forced itself back into his brain he could hear the soft sounds coming from the other room.

He opened his bedroom door and leaned in the doorway. He could see the girl across the room, kicking her feet on the couch. Her head twitched back and forth while she murmured in her sleep.

What the fuck, he said to himself. He hadn't signed up for this. He was just trying to help her he didn't want to be her goddamn dad. He contemplated waking her up but before he could even leave the doorway she startled awake and sat up, panting. There was an obvious moment of confusion as she looked around and tried to determine where she was before she put a hand over her face and tried to compose herself, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

"What's all this then?" he said, by way of comforting her. Well at least that had been his intention. She jumped when she heard his voice and focused on him across the room. Even in the darkness he could see her bright emerald eyes from the light through the window. She quickly scrambled to her feet and ran for the door.

"I'm sorry," she said hurriedly. "I mean thank you. I- I'm sorry."

"Hang on a minute," he said just as she slammed the door behind her. Zaeed went to the door and looked out of it down the hallway, but she had already disappeared. He wasn't about to chase her all around the bloody city in the middle of a goddamn blizzard. He shut and locked the door and proceeded back to his bedroom. He turned to sit at the edge of the bed and wrapped a hand around the back of his head with a sigh.

"Why did I even bother," he said. He kicked himself for another hour or so, disturbed by how many times he found himself looking out the window at the snow dancing by, wondering how she was going to stay warm. He didn't even know this girl, for all he knew she was a vicious murderer looking for an easy target to get her away from the city. Zaeed had never considered himself an easy target, nor had he ever fallen prey to the wiles of a beautiful woman when he didn't have schemes of his own up his sleeve but...

He sighed and got out of his clothes before crashing back onto his bed. He spent the majority of the night staring up at the ceiling, wondering why he had gone through so much trouble for the ungrateful little shit.

Bam bam bam bam.

One of Zaeed's eyes popped open, fury filling him almost instantly.

"What now," he cursed to himself, sitting up with his gun in his hand.

Bam bam bam bam.

"I swear to Christ," he said, rubbing a hand down his face. "If it's the fucking manager again I'm going to shoot off his goolies." He stood tiredly, glancing out the window quickly and taking note of how early in the morning it was. He located his pants and jumped into them without releasing his gun, and made his way to the front door.

Bam bam bam bam.

"Alright!" he shouted. "I'm coming you bleedin' sod, just hang on a minute."

He opened the door and leaned the hand with the gun in it on the frame, but froze when he saw the tiny red head staring up at him. He noticed her looking him up and down again, appraising him as he stood there, shirtless, in the doorway.

With a gun.

She traced her eyes down his arms, making note of his numerous tattoos before fixing her bright green eyes on his dark green ones again. Gun or no, she wasn't afraid of him.

"Did you mean what you said?" She asked, undeterred. "About getting me into the Alliance?"

He exhaled and shifted his weight, scratching the back of his head with the barrel of his gun. He weighed her with his eyes again. She obviously wasn't much. She couldn't have weighed more than 40 kilo's soaking wet with a cinderblock on her head. What good would a wiry thing like her do in a goddamn shoot out?

Still. There was a fire about her. She had spirit, if nothing else. And spirit was damn important. You could teach someone to shoot a gun, you could teach them to kill with their bare hands. You can't teach someone to have fight in them. You can't teach someone to burn for it.

"And what if I did?" he said, tilting his head to the side.

"I'll do what I have to," she said turning her hands into fists. "I'll learn whatever they need me to learn and I won't give up even if it kills me. I want to fight. I want to protect the people who can't protect themselves. I want…" She looked down at the floor and cleared her throat before looking back up at him. "I want to never, ever, be weak again."

Zaeed turned around and walked away, leaving the door open for her to follow him.

"Well if you want to live long enough to enlist, don't fucking wake me up again until the sun's in the middle of the goddamn sky, you got it?"

Anderson sat at his desk, in his full dress blues, as Zaeed detailed how he had met the young tattered red-head sitting outside the window.

"It's not like you to take in strays, Zaeed."

"You're tellin' me," he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"What's her story? Why is she on the street?"

"Couldn't tell ya," Zaeed said, crossing his legs as he sat back in the chair. "She won't talk to me about it. Don't even know her name, now that I think about it. I've been calling her Red and she's been answering to it so…" he shrugged as if that finished the sentence for him.

"Still, I don't think I can help you here. Recruiting for the year is already done. The training camp starts in two weeks for god sakes. I don't think I could get her in even if I wanted to. I mean look at her. She almost doesn't exist she's so skinny. She hardly looks like Alliance material, and she certainly doesn't look like someone you'd stick your neck out for."

"Trust me, Andy," Zaeed said, shifting in his chair. "You want this girl. Just talk to her for five minutes. You'll see what I mean."

Anderson exhaled and took his hat off to rub the top of his head.

"If you want to get her in so bad why haven't you just gone to Hackett? You know he can help you."

"That's the last thing I want to do. If he finds out I want her in, he'll turn her down just on those grounds alone."

"That isn't true, Zaeed. Have a little faith. He's your brother."

"Half brother," Zaeed corrected.

"And why exactly does she have to be in now? She can just wait for the next half year to be up and start with that round of recruits."

"Look at her, Anderson. She's been living on the goddamn streets. You want to make her wait six months?"

Anderson sighed, and Zaeed could tell he was getting through.

"You owe me," Zaeed said finally.

The Captain's eyes darted up, almost scowling.

"Now?" Anderson said. "You're going to use that now?"

"So what if I am?" Zaeed stood and leaned both his hands on Anderson's desk, looming over him. "You asked me to do what I do best, and that's work outside the lines. I went in and I killed a lot of people to get Sanders off of that moon."

"You don't think I know that?" Anderson stood and rubbed the back of his neck. "God damn it, fine." He exhaled a frustrated breath and headed for the door.

Once the door opened, and the two men stepped out, the girl hurriedly got to her feet and stood as straight as she could. Anderson tilted his head to the side as he observed her. The size of her boots, the way her jacket's sleeves came down past her hands, the loose strands of bright copper peeking out from under the tattered hood. He put his hands behind his back and approached her, and both men saw how she shied away and looked at the floor when he got close.

"Red, this is Captain David Anderson," Zaeed said, motioning a hand at him.

"Oh uh. Nice to meet you."

Zaeed coughed.

"Uh, sir!" she added.

"What's your name, child?" Anderson asked.

"Jane, sir," she said.

"Jane what?"

"Doe."

Anderson turned to look at Zaeed over his shoulder, and Zaeed exhaled in acknowledgement of the sadness in the Captain's eyes as they realized she didn't have a name.

He cleared his throat and turned back to the girl.

"And how old are you, Jane?"

Her eyes darted to Zaeed, then back to Anderson. "Eighteen, sir."

He cocked an unbelieving eyebrow. "How old are you really?"

She cleared her throat. "I uh, I don't know."

"You don't have a birth certificate?"

She winced as the shame filled her face. "No, sir. The orphanage just found me one day."

"He tells me you don't have anywhere to go, that you're living on the street," Anderson said, pointing a thumb over his shoulder at Zaeed. "Why aren't you living in the orphanage?"

She cleared her throat again and folded her hands over each other. "There just…wasn't enough room for all the kids. I was the oldest so…" She shook her head and looked off to the side.

"Why do you want to join the Alliance, Jane?" Anderson asked. "Is it just for the free meals and shelter? Because that isn't exac-"

"No!" She said, looking up at him. "I don't care about any of that."

"Then why don't you tell me?"

"Um... I..." She sighed and rubbed the back of her head nervously. "I told you this was a bad idea, Old Man."

"Don't be a chicken shit," Zaeed said, going to stand beside Anderson with his arms crossed. "I told you that you had to see this through to the end didn't I?"

"Yeah, but-"

"No buts, Spitfire. Just tell the Captain what you told me."

"I just," She looked down at her feet and furrowed her brow, trying to muster up her determination. "I'm tired of having to watch people die just because I wasn't strong enough to protect them. I never want to see it again." She looked back up at the men and the rage in her small face made both of them pause. "And I never want to be weak or powerless ever again. I want to fight, sir. I want to be strong so I can help all the people who can't help themselves. I'm a quick learner. If you can just give me this chance I promise that I will give it all I've got and I'll never give up, even if it kills me!" She cleared her throat when she realized she was half-shouting and squeezing her hands into fists. She looked up at Zaeed before dropping her hands back down to her sides and looking back down at her feet to hide the embarrassment.

Anderson looked over at Zaeed, exhaling through his nose. Zaeed shrugged in an 'I told you so' kind of way before they both turned back to the girl.

"I have to get to the conference," Anderson said, heading out of the office. "Have her fill out the forms and leave them on my desk. I'll get her in."

"What?" She said, looking up. "Really?"

"Yes. Really," he said before turning around to look at her. "But don't make me regret this, Jane Doe. I don't put my name on the line for just anyone."

With eyes wide and a goofy smile that lit up her whole face, she clapped her hands together. "Yes sir," she said. "I mean… no sir! I won't let you down! Thank you!"

Anderson looked at her, then back to Zaeed, then nodded at the girl and left.

"Didn't I tell ya?" Zaeed said, pushing her in the shoulder.

She looked down at the floor like she was searching for something that made her understand her sudden change of fortune.

"I don't… I don't know how I can thank you," she said, turning to him finally.

"You can thank me by kicking ass," he said. He bent down so he was eye level with her and gripped her by the shoulders. "Listen to me, Red. Most people take somewhere between a year and eighteen months to get out of training. You need to be faster than that, do you understand? Your lack of history means that you are going to have to prove yourself every step of the way. Not a goddamn thing is going to be handed to you. You will have to earn it all on your own, and you are going to have to lick every inch of the ladder on the way up. If you're going to do this, you need to be the best."

"I understand," She said, nodding at him. "I'll do whatever it takes, I promise."

"Good girl," he said, standing. "We need to fill out those forms, so you'd best start thinking of a new last name."

"Shepard," she said, without even thinking.

He tilted his head to the side, observing how she seemed to already have that answer cocked and ready to fire. He wasn't about to push the envelope and make her explain, so he just took it for what it was.

"Alliance Lieutenant Jane Shepard." He laughed and tousled her hair with a hand. "I like it."