It was a seriously nice day out in the courtyard, sunny and without the faintest bit of breeze. I had my guitar, and I was strumming along a nonsense melody with just a few simple chords, sitting on the grass by the main Science building in campus. That tends to attract some attention, and I've gotten a few very nice jam sessions with other students starting that way.
I looked down at the guitar and strummed along again, the sounds coming out almost effortlessly. I wasn't even thinking of what I was strumming.
"That's cool," another voice said, and I looked up to see a man sitting down next to me. I thought to myself that I knew that man. He had a guitar too, and started playing a different piece. I tried to follow, but I wasn't managing to make any sounds.
I looked at the strings, and they were just sitting there. There were... I couldn't count them. That's something that I should pay attention to, I thought, but I was distracted by screams.
Screams everywhere. The sound of guns. Armored figures were moving through the buildings, shooting people left and right. There were screams, but I couldn't see anyone actually screaming. All the people just stood there, letting the figures shoot them. So much blood. I couldn't stand up. One of the figures walked to me slowly, a rifle held to his shoulder. Four eyes were staring at me mercilessly. The man next to me was dead, and I didn't even see who shot him.
When he pressed the trigger, I opened my eyes. My heart was beating furiously inside my chest, and for a moment I couldn't tell where I was.
"GET AWAY FROM ME!"
The scream made me bounce on my bed like nothing else. I knew that voice. The redheaded girl on the bed next to me was struggling against two people in white armor. Without thinking, I bounced off my feet and crashed on the nearest armored person. I caught him completely by surprise, because he let go of the girl and came down to the ground with me. I didn't fight him, the girl was still screaming, and I just had this thought that I had to help her.
When I got back to my feet, the other armored person had backed off, and was trying to say something.
"Calm down! You're safe!" He shouted. "We're not going to hurt you," he finished, trying to sound as soothing as possible.
My addled brain was finally kicking into gear, and I recognized where we are. The hospital. Shepard was still swinging wildly with her hand, sitting on the bed and trying to keep the man at bay. Field doctor? He was in full armor, and-
Oh crap, I just knocked a doctor down?
Deciding quickly what was most important, I tried to stop Shepard. As soon as I got near, she turned to me and swung her fist at me. It was a clumsy effort, even for my freshly-awaken self. I managed to catch the swinging hand with my own, and the back of my mind was surprised at how much her puny punch fucking hurt.
I still didn't let her hand go.
"Shepard!" No, not Shepard. "Aliana! It's me. It's Roy. It's okay, remember me? It's okay."
She looked at me for what seemed like an eternity, and her fear slowly melted away.
"Roy? You... where..." I wondered if she was drugged, because she looked very confused now. Maybe she was sleeping, same as I was.
What was I dreaming about?
I couldn't remember, it didn't matter. Shepard's confusion was gone very quickly, and now she was settling down. Then she looked at my hand, which was holding hers, and gasped.
When I looked at it, I realized what she had done, and why the two armored medics were trying to restrain her. She had taken hold of a scalpel, and when I stopped her punch, it had gone clean through my hand. And now that I was looking at it, the pain and the slightly sickening feeling were damn near unbearable.
She let go of the scalpel like it was poisoned, and put both hands over her mouth.
"Oh my... I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." She kept repeating it over and over, her voice muffled by her hands.
"It's okay," I tried to sound chirper than I was actually feeling. "A little medigel and I'll be good as new."
"Damn son," the man I had knocked over muttered, getting up.
"Yeah, sorry about that," I said, looking at him for a moment before looking down. "I... I just got up, and... Sorry, I wasn't thinking."
"You shouldn't be up at all," he retorted, and pushed me back in bed, not too roughly, but forcefully enough. He pulled some gauzes out of the small table between beds, and started fussing over my hand.
"What happened anyway?" I said, and looked at Shepard.
"Martin was putting her under for surgery," the medic replied when she didn't answer. He didn't look up, and I didn't realize the pause in his speech meant he was about to pull the scalpel off. I grunted in pain and surprise when he did, but managed not to scream. "Almost cut my damn arm."
"Is that true?" I said.
"Sorry," Shepard muttered, looking away. She didn't look sorry, she looked like she said that because she thought she was supposed to.
"Sh- Aliana," I said. She didn't look. "Ali." She finally looked up. "They are going to help you. I'll be right here the whole time, okay? Don't worry."
After a short pause, she spoke again. "You... Will you..."
"The whole time. Promise."
She nodded, and to my relief, she didn't do anything when the doctors came to fuss over her again. My hand was killing me, but after the doctor put some medi-gel in it – literally in it, as the whole went clean through – I was feeling a lot better.
Come to think of it, my arm was feeling a lot better too. And the broken fingers, well, those still hurt, but it may be the scalpel that just went through it.
"Didn't hit any nerves or big blood vessels," the doctor said, and now that he was just standing there I could see the nametag on his armor. Jones.
Doctor Jones. Really?
That put a smile on my face. "Thanks doctor Jones," I said, and he just nodded and left me there.
On the other bed, they were fussing over Shepard, which reminded me about the surgery bit.
"Doc, what's wrong with her?" I said. Stupid question, unless I was more specific. "I mean, the surgery?"
"She's fine, just need to open the leg wound and clean it properly, she's got some debris in there."
"Oh, okay." He was about to pull the little privacy curtain around her bed, so I stopped him. "Can you leave that open? I said I'd be here and-"
"Fine," he interrupted. He didn't sound angry, but he was a bit short. If he was the one Shepard got with the scalpel I could understand it. I looked at her, and she looked like she was just peacefully sleeping. I thought of asking why they needed to put her under for a minor surgery, but decided against it. The last thing the doctor probably wanted was to answer fifty questions while he operated.
The tent was still as empty as ever. There were even fewer marines taking up bed space, and I could see no other civilians at all. I checked my watch, but since I hadn't checked it before going to sleep, I had no idea how long it had been.
"That's a very nice antique."
I turned to the voice to see a woman sitting on the next bed to my right. Huh, I hadn't heard her coming. She had long black hair (unusual for the military, I thought), a narrow face, narrow eyes... All her features looked rather sharp, if I could put it that way. She was wearing a very light set of armor, but it wasn't white like the doctors'.
"I'm Marie," she said, and offered her hand. I shook it tentatively, not really ready to say anything. I wasn't sure where this wariness had come from, but I tend to trust my instincts when that happens. "How are you feeling?"
I shook my head, turned to look at Shepard, and sighed. "Fine. Better than her."
"You don't have to worry, her leg is just a minor problem. She'll be up and running in no time."
"That's not what I mean," I said, and when I looked at Marie, I thought she knew that wasn't what I meant. I took a deep breath and tried to remain calm. Why is she annoying me?
"I know. I tried to speak with her but... She's lost her whole family, except you."
Wait, what?
"I'm not family," I said, a little too quickly.
"Maybe not, but you may as well be now. You care about her, don't you?"
There is a familiar uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, warning me that the conversation is going to a place where I don't want to go. "What do you want?"
She didn't sigh, but looked like she wanted to. "I want to help you, Roy. Both of you. You have been through a very traumatic experience."
"So you're a shrink?" My head was already sorting through the conversation. Anything I said would be analyzed, dissected, and probably thrown back at me in the form of a question. I really wasn't in the mood to answer twenty questions and share how I felt about being asked how I felt.
"Yes."
"Why didn't you say so?"
"I wanted you to relax. I'm not here to judge you, Roy. Just tell me what happened."
I looked at Shepard. She was still under, all I could see was her face, the rest hidden behind the curtain. I didn't mind them covering the surgery, no matter how minor. I just wanted to see her face. "You said it already, she lost her whole family. What else do you want me to say?"
"Who did you lose?"
"Nobody," I said, and looked back at her.
"Nobody? No family?"
"Nope," I replied evenly. I hadn't thought about it. No family, they were all back in the twenty-first century. Well, it wasn't too different from them being halfway across the world anyway. Only difference they couldn't bother me by phone or mail now.
As I said, I hadn't really thought about it, and in truth, it didn't seem to make much difference. I had already done the good fucking riddance dance when I moved, so really, this was just a little bit extra.
"I see." Dammit, she probably caught that I was thinking there. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked cautiously.
"Not really," I said, and shrugged. Maybe it was a big deal, but at the time, it just didn't seem that relevant.
Our conversation was interrupted with a hubhub of activity coming from the landing area. A shuttle had dropped a whole bunch of wounded marines, and they were being hastily brought to the hospital. The doctor was already directing his staff, prioritizing the wounded and filling the ranks of beds. Despite the new arrivals, the whole place was still eerily empty.
Marie must have caught my gaze, because she was already asking questions.
"What is it?"
"This place," I replied, and paused to think about what I was about to say. I was going through possible answers, second answers, follow-up questions, and running the whole conversation in my head. It rarely worked, but I couldn't help it. "It's so empty. Like you were expecting a lot more wounded."
"We were." The way she looked at me, with that sadness in her eyes, I couldn't tell whether it was genuine or a well-practiced mask. I always sucked at reading people, so the fact that she was showing so much how she felt put my guard up immediately. Was it genuine, or just an act to get me to lower my guard? "There are a lot more batarians than we thought. Reinforcements are on their way, but... It may be a day or two before they arrive."
"I thought the batarians were gone."
"From this area, yes. There's a lot more in the city."
Her eyes lingered, looking at the incoming crew, until the last soldier came out of the shuttle. She closed her eyes, sighed, and then turned to me.
"Something wrong?" I said.
She didn't answer immediately. For what I could see, she was thinking about her answer, which would have made me put my guard up if it wasn't already.
"No civilians," she said, shaking her head.
"Oh."
"Anyway. Roy. Why don't you tell me what happened?"
"Because it sucked?"
She made a small smile. Not too open, that would have sent the wrong message. Just a small gesture to tell me she knew what I had done, and the she knew I knew what she meant.
"Fine," I muttered.
It took me a while to get started. I didn't know how to start really, I was in New Zealand circa early twenty-first century and now I'm over here, and it's probably some kind of parallel universe? That wouldn't really work. So I started by saying I was lost in the forest, and ended up in the farmstead. I paused to look at her, and she didn't ask anything, she just nodded for me to continue.
Damn I was glad about that.
So I continued. The batarian with the shotgun, and how I buried my knife in his throat. How I had caught both of them completely by surprise.
"It was just... so surreal. I just thought it was all a dream. Batarians attacking? I was sure it was a dream. I was so sure I didn't hesitate. If... If I hadn't..."
"Denial is not an unusual reaction." Specially if this was all supposed to be a fictional universe in a videogame. I didn't say that, I just nodded. "Does it still feel like a dream?"
"Kinda..."
I was expecting a lecture of some sort about how I had to face my fears and accept what had happened to me, but nothing of the sort came. She just repeated the nod I gave her, inviting me to continue.
"After I patched myself up, I ran towards the house, where the other batarians had gone."
"That was very brave of you."
"Or just stupid. This was all a dream, remember?"
"Even after the first fight?"
"Yeah..." Meaning "not really".
Again, no quip or judgement, or telling me I was full of crap, just a nod. It was starting to become very unsettling, I didn't know what was worse, her silent nods or her stupid questions. Maybe I should stop talking, I thought. The temptation was there, to just give monosyllabic answers or short, pointless ones until she went away. I've done it before. It works, eventually they get bored and leave you alone.
As the silence dragged on, she prompted me again. "What happened in the house?"
I opened my mouth, but other than a few nonsensical noises, nothing came out. Her mentioning the house had brought back the image of Shepard's family. Not the batarians shooting at me, or the one that probably would have killed me if not for Shepard's timely intervention, but the image of the little boy with a hole through his chest, eyes fixed to the ceiling with that... surprised expression.
A sudden contact on my shoulder brought me out of my reverie, and by instinct, I immediately recoiled, nearly falling off the bed, and snapping my head towards whoever had touched me. I don't know what face I had, because Marie took a step back immediately, looking very surprised. By then my every instinct was screaming at me that I had screwed up big time. To get up and run as far as possible. That I had shown weakness and now I was going to pay for it.
Slowly, very slowly, showing me every step of the way what she was doing, Marie came closer and put her hand on my shoulder. I flinched a little, very uncomfortable.
"It's fine. Whatever happened in there, you did it to stay alive," she said.
Oh how wrong she was. My voice was a little hoarse when I spoke, my body's way of telling me to shut up, but I had to correct her. "I didn't... I couldn't save anyone."
"You tried."
"I didn't," I said. "I... shot a batarian. At the door, caught him by surprise. After he shot her mom. Then... Then I couldn't go in. I threw up, I couldn't walk... I... I only went inside when I heard the shots. It was too late. Too l..."
My vision blurred, and without warning, I started crying. I clamped my eyes shut hard, bringing my hand to pinch the bridge of my nose between them. I kept quiet, but the tears wouldn't stop. And all the while, Marie kept her hand on my shoulder. I was expecting her to say something, dreading it even, but she didn't. She waited patiently for me to pull myself together.
When I finally did, opening my eyes and taking a deep, trembling breath, she sat down at the edge of my bed. Too close, too damn close, that's all I could think, even though she was keeping an arm's length distance between us.
"This was your first time in combat," she said, and it wasn't a question. "And you have no training. You shouldn't blame yourself, you couldn't control how you would react to that."
"How would you know?" I said with a venomous tone. Now I was angry at her, she was just a paper pusher, she couldn't know.
"I did three tours myself, light infantry," she replied, not at all fazed by my response. It didn't sound like a boast, or a reproach. It just was. I looked at her, and wondered. She must have signed up young for that. I didn't know how long a tour was though, so I couldn't quite tell. Seeing as I was silent, she continued. "I spent most of the time patrolling the Terminus border, or fighting groundside with pirates and raiders. After three years of that, I was ready to get out."
The silence hung for a few seconds. If only I could keep her talking, maybe she wouldn't ask me any more questions. It was a stupid thought, but I wasn't all there at the time.
"Was it this bad?" I said.
"No. Not any one op was like this," she said, looking around at the empty beds. "But over time, three years of death and misery, it all added up. My first bad fight left me a mess, so many people died..." She shook her head, and turned to face me. Despite the somber look, her face lit up slightly with a smile. "I got help, and dug myself out of the hole. I found helping others helped myself, too."
I nodded, but before I could think of anything else, she resumed her barrage of questions.
"Tell me about the house, Roy," she said. Her voice was low and calm, making the request a comforting thought. That raised my guard again, too comfortable. I couldn't help but think it was all just an act, that she was planning something. "You'll feel better. Trust me."
Trust you, I thought. Tall order.
I sighed. There was no point delaying it. "When I got in, I followed the noise to the kitchen. The batarian inside almost blew my head off," I said, and pointed at my shoulder. "And... We both got in cover, and kinda became a stalemate. I didn't know what to do, and he was just waiting for me to make a move. I didn't have any shields or armor, and he had both. So the only thing I could think of was to drag the batarian I had killed to the door, and kinda drop him there."
Marie raised her eyebrows at that, but didn't say anything, so I continued.
"That got the other one by surprise, and gave me a chance to shoot him. It was probably stupid, but it worked. And then..."
And then I stopped talking. There it was, the image of the kid – Jimmy? Was his name Jimmy? I can't remember – staring with empty eyes at the ceiling.
"What do you see?" Marie said, very very softly. She was asking in present tense. What was in my mind right then.
"It's... Jimmy. I think his name is Jimmy. He's just... He has this hole in his chest, and is staring at the ceiling. He just looks so surprised. Like his eyes are so wide, and his mouth is hanging open. Just... Just surprised."
"What else was there? Was there anyone else in the kitchen?"
I forced my thoughts away from the boy. There was someone else. Oh yeah, there was.
"Her dad. He was on the floor too, he... God, so much blood. There was so much blood. But... But he was alive, he couldn't speak. Then we heard this scream, and he looked at me." I paused to swallow hard, and Marie handed me a glass of water. My hands weren't exactly steady, but I managed a few sips before giving it back. "He looked at me, and it was like he told me to go help her. To leave him and help Sh- help Aliana. And I did. I just left him there."
I had to stop at that point, swallowing hard again. The boy's – Jimmy! – face was bad enough. His father's face, pleading for me to leave him to die... That was something else.
"And you saved her, don't you think that he'd be happy about that?"
I wanted to say no. That I should have stayed behind. That I should have helped him. Shepard would have gotten herself out of trouble, I knew it; that's how it happens in the game. She escaped. Somehow. She's Shepard, for crying out loud!
But then again, the game be damned. I was there. It was real.
I turned to look at Shepard and, to my infinite surprise, her eyes were open, and she was looking at me. How long had we been talking? The curtains were gone, the doctors were gone...
Shit. Shit!
"Shepard. I'm sorry. I'm..."
She turned away as I spoke, closing her eyes and burying her head deeply on the pillow. But just before she turned I saw such a pained expression that I couldn't even keep talking.
I was about to get up, but Marie stopped me, put a hand on my shoulder and shook her head when I looked at her. Why was she stopping me? I had to tell her something.
"You didn't do anything wrong, Roy," she said, keeping her voice down. "You did the best you could. That's all anyone can ask of you."
With a couple of gentle taps, she left my speechless self and went to talk with Shepard. I couldn't hear what they were saying, or rather, what Marie was saying. And truth to be told, I didn't want to know. It wasn't my place to butt in, much as I wanted to. I could wait. I wasn't going anywhere.
Author's Notes: Well, the aftermath of something like the Batarian rain of Mindoir can't be easy, specially if that's where your family was killed. So I'm not sure if I managed to put through just how bad it was. Of course, it's not like it's over. We know from in-game that it hit hard not just the (very) few survivors, but also the people who fought there.
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