So here we are again after a multi-year delay.

I wish I could say that I was getting my free time back; I'm not, really. I've got two kids running around the house (the 2.5 year old has been frequently called Monster Boy recently) demanding attention from Mommy. What I am getting is a bit more mental clarity since my sleep is not quite so interrupted these days. Plus I'm at a job that I actually LIKE instead of one that was ... blah.

I've still got a lot more plotted out and, of course, the next bit is going to be heavy on the action as the Suicide Mission begins in earnest.

Continued thanks to everyone who's given me feedback.

2185
Normandy SR-2
Near the Omega-4 Relay

Tali floated in and out of consciousness for what felt like an eternity, getting only fleeting impressions. She was lying on something cold and hard, and then it all snapped back into place.

Legion. The mission to deal with the heretic geth.

The deep voice of the heretic Prime.

Creator.

Tali tried to bring her hands up to pat at her suit, but she was too weak. Panic rose in her chest. The rocket blast seemed to echo through her body. She had no idea where she was, or how badly she was hurt -

"Please remain still, Creator Tali'Zorah."

If she wasn't so weak, she would have laughed at the relief she felt. She was relieved to hear the voice of a geth. One very specific geth, but still, a geth.

"Legion?"

"Please remain still. You are in the AI Core. It was the only area that could be made sterile on short notice." Another oddity: Tali could have sworn that Legion sounded relieved.

"Which means that you're my nurse."

"Affirmative." There was a long pause, and then Legion spoke again. "We can request that Shepard-Commander speak to you to explain the situation."

"No, Legion." The words spilled out without conscious thought. Tali took as deep a breath as she could manage and tried to work it out, because -

Because somewhere along the line, she'd recognized the same thing that Shepard had. Legion was different. Legion could be trusted.

"I know what she'd say." Tali opened her eyes with an effort and looked over at Legion. "And I agree. I'm sorry, Legion. I'm sorry that you had to make that choice - for the heretics. I'm sorry for what my people have done to yours."

Legion stared at her, then dropped its head. "The same could be said for the geth and Creators."

She was supposed to gain perspective on her Pilgrimage, to find something new to bring back to benefit the quarians as a whole. She had. Now she was thinking that what she'd gained with this second tour on the Normandy was far more important.

The quarians had to make peace with the geth.

How, exactly, she was going to accomplish that - she had no idea. She just knew she had to try.

Tali shut her eyes once more, trusting Legion to watch over her.

"Still don't see why I have to be here," Joker grumbled, leaning heavily on his crutches as he watched the Doctor going in and out of the ridiculous blue box that he - somehow - used to get around.

"To get you out of the Infirmary so that Mordin can do his job, of course," the Doctor replied. He flicked the hand holding his absolutely ridiculous Sonic Screwdriver (which sounded more like the name of a drink at Afterlife than anything else), a green glow starting from the end. "Ah. There you are, EDI."

"I am the Normandy now," came EDI's voice from the pedestal. "I am everywhere."

"That's not creepy," Joker muttered, resisting the urge to hunch over.

"Quiet. Trying to concentrate." The Doctor raised his hand higher, and that weird whining sound emanated from his green screwdriver.

"I am sorry if that caused you distress, Jeff," EDI said to him. "I am merely stating facts."

"I - I know, EDI. It's just been a lot, okay?" Joker gave in and sat down on one of the boxes. "The attack, and then Chakwas and Tali, and…"

The geth - the other geth, not Legion - walked out of the blue box and extended a hand towards EDI, saying something in its incomprehensible geth clicking.

"And that," Joker said, waving his hand. What had the Doctor named it again? Like it was a pet he had brought back to the Normandy. A pet geth.

"Ace," the Doctor said. "Its name is Ace."

"Ace, fine." Joker sighed and dropped his head. "EDI, can you -"

"There has been no change in Dr. Chakwas since you last asked."

"Fine. I'll just sit here and do nothing then." He was sulking, he knew it, and he wasn't going to do a damn thing to get out of the sulk.

"Jeff." EDI's voice was far gentler than he'd ever heard it before. It didn't scare him anymore. Why didn't it scare him? "None of this was your fault."

"I know," he said, hoping it was too quiet for anyone else to have heard. "I know."

"You're an ass, Jacob."

Well, that was not what he'd been expecting to hear. Jacob Taylor raised his head and frowned at Miranda.

"Nice to see you too." He was never sure what she wanted him to call her - Miranda, or Lawson, or even Specialist Lawson, so he'd taken to avoiding it when possible. Come to think of it, not being sure about what Miranda really wanted had been the defining characteristic of their time together. Oh, and avoiding the thorny questions. Couldn't forget that. Couldn't forget how he'd conveniently overlooked a lot of problematic aspects of Cerberus under the idea that they were doing good overall.

Miranda folded her arms across her chest and stared him down. "You should have let me take the shot."

"Back to this? Shepard already tore me a new one." Jacob turned back to the weapon that didn't really need the cleaning and check-over he was giving it.

"Niket was -"

"I get it, Miranda," Jacob snapped, no longer caring what she wanted from him. "You do everything. You decide everything. That's how it's always been and that's how it's always going to be."

Arms still folded, her stare turned to a glare. "You are the one who decided we were over. Not me. You didn't even give me a chance. You just … left."

"Yeah. I did."

The silence that stretched out between them was long, and uncomfortable, and thick with all the things they had been leaving unsaid.

Jacob broke first. "I'm sorry."

Miranda tilted her head to the side. "For?"

He waved a hand expansively. "Take your pick."

Silence again. Then - "I'm sorry, too."

He let out a long breath. "Well. Good we've cleared that up, since we might be heading to our deaths, and all."

"Not quite."

It was his turn to raise an eyebrow. "What hasn't been cleared up, exactly?"

In response, she closed the distance between them, one arm snaking around the back of his neck to pull his face to hers.

"That takes care of that," she said a few minutes later. "And, as you said, we might be heading to our deaths." She smiled - the soft smile that so few people saw, that he'd felt so lucky to see during their time together. "Last chance to make a few more mistakes."

"Are you saying I'm a mistake?"

"Generally, getting back with your ex for a one-night stand is a mistake."

It took him too long to understand what she was saying. But it took no time to decide to kiss her again.

The Doctor came out of the blue box for what felt like the hundredth time since Joker had taken his seat.

"It is fascinating, watching him work," Samara said from her perch on another box nearby.

"That's one word for it," Joker said dryly. He'd asked Mordin if he could go back to the Infirmary and the answer had been a most emphatic no. For a second, he'd been tempted to go ask Shepard to override Mordin's decision. He'd decided against it on two counts: one, she'd almost certainly tell him no; two, she was almost certainly with Garrus and would hate being interrupted.

Joker sniggered as he thought of the pair of them together. They'd been the last ones to realize it, of course, and he'd probably never stop giving Shepard grief about it. Assuming they lived through what was coming. The thought sobered him. He looked at what the Doctor was doing with a new eye. They needed every advantage if they were going to survive this trip through the Omega-4 Relay. So, maybe this whole time travel thing wasn't so outlandish after all.

"The data you have given me is not formatted correctly," EDI said, her voice holding a hint of annoyance.

"It's not data, it's history, it's everywhere she's been," the Doctor said, waving a hand at the TARDIS.

"History is data."

"Yes, fine, whatever you say, but the formatting doesn't matter."

"It is if you wish me to find the similarities."

"I thought you were already doing that."

"I am, Doctor, but I need more processing power if we are to finish in time."

Samara rose from her seat, graceful as always. "Will I do?"

Everyone in the cargo hold stared at her for a long moment. "You're -" the Doctor began.

"I have linked with the TARDIS before, as you well know. Asari are adept at the mind meld. I am also the oldest one on this ship. My history in this universe will help."

"You don't know that," the Doctor said, his face unusually soft.

So he does care about her, Joker thought. It still seemed weird, but he tried not to judge. And didn't always succeed, if he was being honest with himself.

"As EDI said, you need more processing power if you are to finish in time. You have EDI, Legion, and Ace already. I am the next best option." She walked over and held out her hand to him. "Use me."

"Samara's logic is sound," EDI said. "She may be the last piece we need."

The Doctor threw his hands in the air. "Fine, get yourself killed before the big battle."

"I will not die," Samara replied, taking the Doctor's face in her hands. "You will make sure of it."

She was right. The Doctor should have known. Women like Samara and River had this annoying tendency to be right when he didn't want them to be.

He felt the atmosphere shift, when Samara joined with the TARDIS, when she added her own power and experience to the complex calculations that EDI was performing. He felt the welcome the TARDIS sang, felt Samara's mind slipping effortlessly into the group that had previously been a synthetics only party.

He closed his eyes and let his entire focus turn to that group, feeling the life in all of them. Ace, who had chosen to follow him. Legion, who believed in a better future for its kind. EDI, newly freed, choosing to aid the people that had become her friends.

Samara. Ancient. Powerful. Beautiful.

It would be so easy to love her. He loved too easily, he knew that. Took too many people into his heart, let them be his nearest and dearest when he knew they would inevitably leave. He brought them into danger and peril when they would have been safer, perhaps even happier, without him.

The Doctor pulled himself back as the heart of the TARDIS began to shine, the walls flickering. The group dissolved back into its individual participants.

It was time.

Shepard glared at the Doctor as he, once again, let himself in her quarters when she had been getting some quality time with Garrus. "I hope you have a good reason for barging in like this," she said, pulling the sheet tighter across her body.

The Doctor, completely unmoved by her disapproval as always, merely grinned back at her. "How would you like to go home?"

"I don't understand."

"EDI cracked it. Let's double check her work." His grin grew wider. "Besides, I want to see what Manhattan looks like in this universe."

She understood, then, what he was offering. She looked over at Garrus. "You can't come," she said, knowing they both hated that idea.

He nodded. "It's all right, Shepard. Besides, you'll be back soon enough."

"Almost before you know it," the Doctor said. "Get dressed, Shepard. I hope you have something appropriate for the times."

2153

The TARDIS
New York City
Whirr. Whirr. Whirr.

THUNK.

Hands shaking, Shepard walked towards the door of the TARDIS. It had felt no different than when he'd taken them to Heretic Station. She still couldn't quite bring herself to believe that they had traveled in time. It was impossible.

Except that relay travel was a form of time travel, as she'd heard the Doctor explain, getting you from here to there in an instant, so that you arrived before you left.

Shepard took a breath to steady herself and stepped out onto the streets of the New York City that she'd been born in. Before that, even; she'd asked for six months or more before her birthday. She didn't exist in this world, but her parents did.

The Doctor was close behind her as she walked into the bustling streets. She remembered this neighborhood - it wasn't as run down as it would be in another decade or so, when gang wars spread that far, sparking the violence that would leave her an orphan with no choice but to join up.

The condition of her old neighborhood wasn't the only thing that was viscerally different. She saw no aliens, no sign of the technology that had come in from other planets and changed Earth. The Charon relay had been discovered, but they were still a few years away from the First Contact War. In her time, New York City was still the tourist hub it had always been, even if many of the historic landmarks were somewhat worse for wear. Aliens flocked to Times Square and the Empire State Building as much as humans always had.

"I can't believe it," she whispered, taking in the sights, old memories coming up from the deepest recesses of her mind. She'd played on that step with other kids; she'd gotten shot for the first time in that alley.

She'd grown up in that house, the one with the green door, the paint still fresh and vibrant. The one whose door was opening right at that moment.

Startled, Shepard stepped back, earning a curse from the person she bumped into. She mumbled a half apology and kept backing up. She didn't want any chance of them seeing her. She didn't want her parents to look at her and think she looked too familiar.

"Is that them?" the Doctor asked, coming to stand beside her. Having told her to wear something appropriate for the times, he had then failed to take his own advice, and stood out like the proverbial sore thumb.

Shepard nodded. "Yeah. That's them."

"What happens? To them, and you?"

She sighed. "My mother died in a drive-by. Random. Senseless. My father couldn't cope. He said he'd pay them back if it was the last thing he ever did. And, well, it was. The gangs took them both, and then they took me, because I didn't have anywhere else to go. I got out through enlisting in the Systems Alliance military." She went quiet, staring at the sidewalk. "I haven't been back here since," she confessed, feeling suddenly guilty about it. "It's … it's not me anymore."

"I know that feeling," the Doctor replied.

The crowd drifted past them as they stood there, two odd people in the middle of a city that had always been a magnet for the weird. The ebb and flow of the city was somehow comforting in spite of it being so different from the Normandy.

People walked, or ran, or stopped, and Shepard got a glimpse of the couple who had come out of the house with the green door.

The woman was just beginning to show her pregnancy, her long red hair flowing loose down her back. She batted away the solicitous arm of the man, who was taller and had darker brown hair. The woman laughed, her smile an echo of the one that Shepard so often wore these days. The man's eyes crinkled in reply, the same shade of green as Shepard's.

Her chest aching, Andrea Shepard watched Nathan and Hannah Shepard walk away from their house. She closed her eyes, inhaling and trying to push back the tears that threatened to spill.

"They look happy," the Doctor said quietly.

She nodded. "Yeah. They were."

The Doctor put a hand on her shoulder. "Do you want to stay a little longer?"

Shepard considered it. "No. There's … nothing else for me here. I'm glad we came, but …"

"It's not you," he said, echoing what she'd said earlier. "Not anymore."