Chapter 8

A warm lethargy spread throughout her body giving the impression of floating within a sea of calm waters. Nothing specific was of interest, just the oddly indifferent sensation of untethered buoyancy, feeling somewhat disconnected and adrift without purpose, without want. The overall sensation was tranquil and soothing and somehow perceived as an unexpected balm, yet an oppressive sluggishness lingered within its depths as well. It anchored her form to a state of dual existence, she was within a limbo between the planes of then and now.

The moments within this solitary void were timeless. They had no meaning beyond the intended hollowness and quiescent placidity that nothingness by its very nature engendered. In this sanctuary of blissful oblivion, she had the vague impression of being contently detached. Here, she was safe. Here, she was at peace. She had no desires or needs. There was no fear or despair, just existence for the sake of existing. A blessed emptiness from the unending onslaught of influences swirling precariously on the other side.

In the tranquil repose of infinity, responsibilities and regrets were naught.

"Wake up! Come back to me!"

The sharp, jarring words, echoing from a faraway place, pierced the veil of the drowsy, nebulous abyss in which her independent solace and refuge were defined. Fractured words which made no sense but sounded out in a plaintive, beckoning tone that was unmistakable, emanating from a familiar voice that was undeniable.

The listless depths of infinity were no longer a solitary haven.

"Shepard, come back to me."

The need woven within the summons was heartfelt and any initial resistance was discarded in lieu of an instinctual pull towards the lyrical melody imbedded within the words. The message, distorted and senseless, was inconsequential, but the one who called to her was somehow essential. She had no defense against the voice as she followed the resonate wisps of its enticing song through the murky expanse allowing instinct to lead the way.

As her consciousness slowly rose to the surface, she became aware of an unnatural heaviness and a tinge of discomfort settling around and within her. She briefly remembered the sensation of a restrictive weight pressing down on her chest, the acute pain radiating throughout her entire body, and wondered if the absence of those sensations was the true anomaly. Where was the ache, the burning and the inability to breathe? They had disappeared and she noted somewhat apathetically that they had been replaced by an overwhelming exhaustion that left a thickness flooding her senses all of which felt dull and muted.

Eyes opened to a blinding white haze as a sharp agony like the swift sting of a razor blade sliced through her head, then they quickly closed allowing for the throbbing pain to be dampened. Her respiration and pulse had quickened under the unexpected onslaught, but began receding as the discomfort slowly faded with the returning darkness leaving behind shards of an ache that drummed endlessly through her head enveloping all other sound. She knew she was lying down on a firm, but cushioned surface with something constrictive draped across her body. Harsh chemical smells permeated her nose and a buzzing sound filled her ears. She was hot, but a shiver passed through her body, which seemed unfamiliar and fragmented like a discarded afterthought that had been forgotten while pursuing an objective. All her appendages felt heavy as though lead weights were attached while her head, still aching, felt as though it was stuffed with cotton, her thoughts random and slow.

"Shepard?"

There was the mottled voice again, intimate and comforting, coaxing in a way which left no room for refusal, laying seed to an irresistible compulsion that was essential to fulfill. She had to see who or what called her from the abyss.

Eyes opened again this time prepared for the agonizing brightness that followed. Blinking rapidly, the harsh illumination eventually dissipated leaving shadowy figures and shapes with fuzzy outlines that moved of their own accord. As each minute passed, the throbbing in her head lessened and the images became clearer until she was able to make out one familiar, reassuring form sitting near.

"Liara."

At least that's what Lakota tried to say. What actually came out of her mouth was a noise that didn't sound human, but was enough for the asari to smile, an incredible joy lighting her face.

"Shhh... Don't try to talk," Liara whispered, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "Miranda and Dr. Chakwas are on their way."

Lakota was grateful the asari didn't require her to say anything, keeping her eyes open was difficult enough, so she closed them and then infinity coiled its tendrils around her once more, returning her to its warm, soothing embrace.

When she opened her eyes again the room was darker and Liara was still sitting beside the bed. The heaviness continued to spread throughout her limbs, but Lakota strained against it, lifting her right arm toward the asari who bent over without a word and placed a tender kiss on her lips. The Spectre's arm wrapped around her lover's shoulders holding her as tight as she was able, which wasn't very much. She smelled the researcher's light floral perfume, the clean fragrance of soap and the unmistakable scent that was intrinsically the asari's alone. Lakota felt shaky inside, but the air going into her lungs seemed fresh and plentiful and after a while the shakiness eased to a slight tremble and then finally settled. Within her lover's embrace, she knew she was alive.

They stayed in that position for a long time, Liara's hand resting gently on Lakota's cheek, their foreheads touching, the Spectre's arm weakly draped around her. Then Liara sat up slowly, carefully taking the Spectre's arm and putting in back down on the top of the sheet with both of her hands holding it tightly.

Lakota smiled faintly, the corners of her lips barely moving, and said, "Surprise." Her voice was low and the usual playful lilt was replaced with a dry, husky sound as she maintained her hold on consciousness.

The asari rolled her eyes in amusement while patting her lover's hand quietly. She didn't trust herself to speak yet, so she reached over to the table next to the bed, lifted the lid off of a cup and retrieved a sliver of ice which she placed on the Spectre's lips.

The cool sensation was both refreshing and soothing to Lakota's raw, scratchy throat. As she raised her eyebrows, she glanced over at the cup, a silent request for more which the asari willingly fulfilled.

"How am I?" asked the Spectre after savoring a few more frozen pieces, the melted liquid having an immediate effect on her voice. All of her limbs felt tired and numb while the space around her seemed to shimmer in and out of focus making her feel disoriented. She reined her thoughts to this moment and none other. Somehow she knew if she let her mind wander to how she got here, wherever here was, that she would become lost in a maze of incongruent imagery and chaotic memories.

"You're going to live."

"That's a relief."

Smiling softly, Liara said, "For us both."

Lakota's hand squeezed her lover's in silent affirmation and when she looked up, her gaze fell into loving eyes as blue as the darkest sapphire and half veiled with joyful tears.

"So… where are we?"

"We're at the System Alliance Advanced Medical Institute in Wellington, New Zealand. You were flown here from London."

A horde of questions swarmed through her mind regarding what happened, how she was found, the state of things now, but Lakota set those aside on focused on concerns that were just as important yet seemed simpler to deal with. "I can't really feel anything. How bad am I?"

Liara informed the Spectre that she was on a full spectrum of antibiotics and heavy pain medicine which were the cause of her dulled senses. Then, she listed off the numerous injuries that the Spectre had sustained and briefly recited the details of the surgery, the induced coma and Miranda's short and long-term prognosis for recovery, which were promising.

Feeling slightly overwhelmed, Lakota whispered, "So how long have I been here?"

"Almost five days. You've been drifting in and out of consciousness for the last two."

The Spectre's green eyes locked onto blue, searching their depths for answers to questions she hadn't yet asked. "What about you? How are you?"

Smiling shyly, the researcher replied, "I'm much better now." From the admonishing look directed at her, Liara knew she was expected to be more forthcoming. "The injuries I sustained were tended to on the Normandy and there is no lasting damage. I am fine, Shepard. Truly."

Lakota nodded slowly, breathing out a sigh of relief.

"How do you feel?" Liara asked after a few moments of thoughtful contemplation, relishing the sight of her awake and responsive lover and thanking the Goddess for the opportunity to do so.

"Like I went ten rounds with a thresher maw, was run over by a Mako and then had a building dumped on my head."

"That's pretty close to what actually happened," teased the researcher.

"Really?"

"Honestly, nobody's sure what really happened." Raising a questioning eyebrow, Liara asked, "Do you not remember?"

With a forced effort, Lakota tried to think back, but her thoughts and the images produced were elusive. As her mind grazed over one of the stronger sensations, her body shuddered involuntarily.

Noticing the Spectre's physical reaction, Liara leaned forward placing a comforting kiss on her forehead. "Let it go for now, Shepard. There's no hurry. You've still got a lot of drugs in you, which will affect your ability to remember."

Nodding her head, Lakota murmured, "Okay." In truth, she was more than happy to avoid the dark thoughts skirting on edge of her awareness. She looked back up at the asari. "The Reapers?"

"Gone. Defeated."

"Gone? Defeated?" repeated the Spectre incredulously, as though she was unable to comprehend what the asari had said. "How? I want to know what happened to you, the squad, everything that's occurred since the Normandy left Earth."

As her hand cupped her lover's cheek, her thumb tenderly stroking the smooth, pliant skin, the researcher smiled reverently. She could see the woman lying in bed was struggling against her body's desire to sleep. "You will. I promise. But not right now, you need to rest."

Lakota knew the asari was correct. Every moment their conversation continued the heaviness of her eyelids increased exponentially. "Yeah, you're right. I am tired."

"Then close your eyes and sleep," said Liara. "I'll be here when you wake."

Lakota did as she was told allowing her consciousness to easily slip back into the peaceful slumber of nothingness.

When she awoke, it was bright again and although her head pounded relentlessly, she was able to shove the discomfort to the back of her mind by focusing on the scene before her.

Garrus and Tali were talking to Liara near the foot of the bed, but their voices were low enough that Lakota couldn't hear the conversation. Assumedly they were keeping their volume down as to not disturb her sleep, but since she was awake she had no qualms about interrupting them.

"Hi, guys," she croaked, then coughed lightly in attempt to clear the scratchiness from her throat.

Immediately Liara glided over to the right side of the bed, picked up the glass of water that was on the night stand and brought it to her lover's lips. A straw made it easier for the Spectre to suck in the much needed liquid which smoothed out the dryness in her mouth and throat. She flashed the asari a grateful look and was rewarded with unabashed affection shining in clear eyes.

Garrus smiled. "Shepard, it's good to see you awake instead of sprawled out on that bed in some misguided cry for attention."

After elbowing the turian, Tali took a step forward her hands resting at the end of the bed. "Ignore him, he's just jealous because you got a private room and he had to share one with Vega and Cortez."

"Traitor," sassed Garrus playfully.

Lakota breathed a little easier upon hearing the names of her squad being used in the present tense as she attempted to shift to a more comfortable position. Her body still felt sluggish, but Liara quickly recognized her lover's struggle and produced a remote which controlled the various angles of the bed and the firmness of the mattress. Once she had manipulated herself into a seated position she murmured to no one in particular, "That's better."

The sophisticated enviro-suit that Tali wore, which protected her from disease and infection, included a mask that hid all of her facial features making it difficult for most people to gauge her moods. Over the years though, Lakota had become adept at reading the quarian's body language and attributing the subtle shifts to various emotional expressions. So the moment when Tali's hands began to fidget and her head tilted slightly to the side, the Spectre knew the engineer was hesitant and concerned. "How are you doing, Shepard?"

"Apparently, I'm alive."

"Yeah, and you look like hell," noted Garrus honestly, but then he had the wisdom to look chagrined when the quarian leveled her gaze at him. Even through her mask, he knew she was non-verbally chastising him.

Flashing him a sardonic look, Lakota said, "You know, Garrus, humans have a saying; you shouldn't criticize someone until you've walked a mile in their shoes."

The turian shook his head. "A human's shoes wouldn't even fit me, so why would I walk a mile in them?"

Her eyes twinkling in amusement, the Spectre said, "So when you do criticize them, you're a mile away and you have their shoes."

"I'll tuck that information away for another day."

Lakota smiled, the familiar banter with her good friend easing her worries better than any drug. Unsure of how long her body would maintain its wakeful state, she followed her instincts that had served her so well in the past and asked the question that hovered in her mind. "Speaking of information, what happened after the Normandy left Earth?"

The three standing around the bed looked at each other apprehensively as though having a silent debate on who should lead the conversation and what that would entail. As it turned out, Garrus began the conversation relating the Normandy's emergency EVAC which picked up Kaidan and Liara on the battlefield in London, their harried journey through the battle raging in the cold reaches of space above the Earth and their plunge into the Sol Relay to escape the all-encompassing red wave of energy. Tali spoke of Joker and EDI's combined skills and ingenuity, as they dodged between ships and debris while being fired upon. The two of them individually were impressive, but together their abilities and expertise enhanced the other's lifting them both to a level that they couldn't achieve on their own. The pilot and ship had acted like a merged consciousness, as they anticipated each other's actions, innately navigating the way to safety.

Garrus crossed his arms in front of his chest. "It's a damn good thing EDI was able to shake off that attack on her system."

"What attack?" said Lakota, the confusion evident in both her voice and expression on her face.

As if hearing her name, the door to the room opened and EDI walked in, followed closely by Joker who was limping slightly due to his issues with Vrolik syndrome—also known as brittle bone disease.

"Hey," said the pilot, while maneuvering to the left side of the bed, "nobody told us there was going to be a party. I would have brought cake and ice cream."

"It is doubtful the commander could ingest such nutrients at this time, Jeff," reproached the synthetic as she came to a halt by his side. "Hello, Shepard."

The fact that the Spectre's eyes had locked onto EDI like a sniper rifle laser sight the moment the synthetic entered the room did not escape Liara's notice. Nor did the intensity of her lover's gaze or that there was something ruminating within those pale green eyes. She doubted anyone else caught sight of Lakota's focused intensity, so instead of saying anything now, she made a mental note to ask about it later.

"What attack?" Lakota repeated, her voice even toned, giving no hint to the asari as to what she might be contemplating.

"It was the craziest thing, Commander," replied Joker. "One minute EDI's kicking ass with her cyber warfare suite, the next she's taking the term 'frozen in time' to a whole new level."

Although an artificially constructed being, the tone of EDI's voice was unmistakably dismissive. "I assure you, that was not my doing."

Narrowing her eyes, Lakota persisted in her line of inquiry. "What happened?"

EDI tilted her head slightly, directing her answer toward the Spectre. "After escaping to the Dakka system through the Sol Relay, a red wave of energy passed through the Normandy, at which time a foreign program attempted to gain access to my root processes. While combating the attack, I had to force a system shutdown so my source code could be scrubbed. I was offline for approximately six and a half minutes."

"Approximately?" Lakota had never heard the synthetic be less than specific when it came to numbers.

"The actual length of time was six minutes and twenty-two point forty-two seconds, but Jeff has informed me that precise numerical data is not necessary in casual conversation."

"I see."

"Would you prefer more accurate statistics in the future, Shepard?"

"Um… no, I don't think so. Not unless you're filling out a report."

"Very well. I shall continue to strive to be 'less than accurate' while socializing."

"You mentioned a red wave," said the Spectre. "What was it?"

"Unknown at this time," replied EDI, "The point of origin was the Citadel, but energy traveled quickly through all systems and had an immediate and devastating effect on the Reapers and their troops."

"What do you mean?"

"According to reports," answered Garrus, "the energy wave caused them to disintegrate."

Lakota's jaw dropped open in astonishment. "Disintegrate?"

Nodding her head, Tali added, "Yes. Or something close to it. The reports have been coming in from everywhere. Rannoch, Palaven, Sur'Kesh, Tuchanka… They're all saying the same thing – the Reapers are gone."

"That's..." Lakota's voice tapered off as she attempted to absorb the information. "… difficult to imagine," she finally said. Her eyes were unfocused, lost to the thoughts running through her head.

Liara intervened by continuing the story of the Normandy in the Dakka system, the repairs that had to be made to the communication buoys and the eventual trip back to the Sol System after the relay system had been deemed safe to use. From there she explained that Miranda had been contacted by Admiral Anderson and that she was the one who devised a system to track down the Spectre. The asari also spoke about Jack, Grunt and Samara's adventure locating and rescuing her from a fallen building and then the rush from London to New Zealand soon after she had been found.

"What about you, Commander?" said Joker, asking the question that was on everyone's mind, but that no one had yet asked. "How are you doing? What do you remember?"

While Liara had been talking, Lakota's sharp gaze had returned to EDI, the fluorescent lights illuminating the synthetic's metal skin in an unnatural halo. After the Normandy's pilot asked his questions, her eyes lingered a few moments longer on EDI, then the shifted over to him. "I don't know. Other than every inch of my body feeling stiff and a bit numb, my thoughts are still a bit muddled…"

As soon as the last word left the Spectre's mouth, Liara captured her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "Because of her injuries and the pain medication she's been given, it could take a few days or more for Shepard to regain her memories."

"That's true," said Miranda, who overheard the conversation just as she entered the room. In an unspoken greeting, she tilted her head in Shepard's direction. "There's nothing to be concerned about. It's a common side effect to both the treatment you've undergone and the drugs that were administered."

Shepard frowned, but then nodded, acknowledging that she understood what she'd just been told.

"Visiting hours are now over," said Miranda addressing the room while typing in some note at the medical console next to bed, "the Commander needs to get some rest."

Without argument the group quickly said their goodbyes to the Spectre, promising to return the following day. When the door finally shut only Liara and Miranda remained.

"How are you feeling, Shepard?" asked the former Cerberus officer.

"Hungry, I think."

"You think?"

"I have a hard time distinguishing between boredom and hunger."

"Could be either in this place," remarked Liara, playfully.

Flashing a lopsided grin, Lakota said, "Exactly the point I was trying to make."

A chirping sound emanated from near the couch and Liara moved effortlessly towards it, picking up a datapad and then typing in some commands. After a moment, she returned to the bed, an apologetic expression on her face. "I'm sorry, I have to take care of this, but I'll be back soon. I promise." Before the Spectre could answer, the researcher had placed a kiss on her forehead and headed out the door.

Lakota looked at the woman standing next to the bed, her eyebrow raised inquisitively.

As she continued to add information into the console, Miranda commented, "Liara couldn't continue to work out of the Normandy, so her equipment was moved to a secure, non-Alliance, location."

"I assume you helped her."

The ex-Cerberus officer shrugged her shoulders noncommittally. "Liara and I may not see eye to eye on many things, Shepard, but even I know her… network… needs to remain independent from government and military intervention."

"Agreed."

Miranda stopped entering data and stared intently at the Spectre. "Admittedly, I'm a little surprised. I thought you'd want the Alliance to have more… influence."

Lakota shook her head. "Not when it comes to Liara's current occupation. More good can be done if she stays independent." Smiling, she added, "And working from the shadows."

Finishing her work, Miranda spun on her foot, turning her full attention to the woman lying in bed. "You said you were hungry. Is there anything you'd like me to bring you before you rest?"

Pinching the bridge of her nose between her forefinger and thumb, Lakota requested, "How about something to get rid of this migraine?"

"Look at me," stated Miranda as she pulled out a small penlight and stepped next to the bed.

The Spectre dropped her right hand to her side and then turned her head. "You say the sweetest things," she teased.

Miranda ignored the playful ribbing, her left hand gently touching Lakota's cheek and neck, steadying them as she shined the light into her eyes one at a time. "Everything looks okay. Your body is probably in need of some solid nutrition."

Sighing heavily, Lakota's head sank back into her pillow as exhaustion began to settle throughout her body. She attempted to stretch from head to toe, which proved difficult because every inch felt stiff and lethargic, while she debated whether or not she was truly hungry or just bored out of her mind.

Making an executive decision, Miranda said, "I'll go get you something to eat, then you can rest."

"Okay," said the Spectre, the lack of argument was a key indicator as to how uncomfortable the headache had become.

When Miranda reached the door, she heard her named called and turned to look back at the prone woman.

From across the room their eyes met, quietly holding the leisurely moment until Lakota broke the silence. "Thank you. For your friendship. For finding me. For saving my life... a second time."

"It wasn't just me," said the ex-Cerberus officer, shaking her head slightly, "I had help." Her blue eyes sparkled with unbridled intensity. "You have a lot of people who care about you, Shepard."

Nodding in agreement, Lakota said, "I'm very fortunate." She tilted her head to the side as though contemplating that thought, her gaze never dropping from Miranda's. "But still, thank you for all that you did. For all that you are doing. Thanks… for everything."

"You're welcome. And before you get too maudlin and sentimental, let me just say, it was my pleasure. I'm glad I could help you this time around."

"As am I."