Events of the chapter: Shepard is trapped in the rubble of the Citadel, the crew of the Normandy debate the best course of action
Author's note: This chapter was updated on 04/15/2023. Updated for prose and POV inconsistencies, story and most dialogue remains unchanged.
PART I
Chapter 4: Air, Light, Water
3 days after the end of the Reaper War
The Citadel
A reedy whine filled Shepard's ears. She parted her chapped lips to speak, but no sound came out. Was there even anyone to listen? She wasn't sure when she had last seen anything beyond her own body or the ruins of the Citadel. Time expanded and contracted as she floated in and out of consciousness; she feared she would be buried in this shadowy sepulchre forever.
A light skated along the rubble, at the edge of her vision. The orb bobbed up and down as it moved closer. Unsure of herself, Shepard unfurled her fingers, encrusted in dry blood, and lifted her hand to reach toward the orb. But her eyes closed again, her throat burning with thirst.
SSV Normandy
The morning after their unexpected layover, some of the crew had assembled in the mess for breakfast. James, at work as a temporary cook, shook a pan and slid a sodden clod of eggs onto his tray.
"This reconstituted crap just isn't the same. I would kill for some real eggs. But they'll be pretty hard to come by now."
"Yeah? Try being a dextro living on a human ship for a year. At least you all get variety," Garrus replied.
"Oh, you want to have a misery competition, Garrus?" Tali shoved her feeding tube through her rations packet and took a long, intense slurp. "Mmmmm, nutritional paste, yummy..."
"Point taken," Garrus replied.
Liara—who had been holed up in her cabin since the end of the crew meeting—finally emerged, quietly crossing the deck and making a beeline toward Kaidan.
"Kaidan, I think you'll want to see this." Liara stood at the table and handed him a datapad. "It's information from a maintenance drone that was still operational on the Citadel right before the Crucible was activated. It appears to have logged the presence of someone in the ring section of the Citadel, right below the tower." Liara pointed to the area on the map. "This section of the Citadel isn't normally accessible to just anyone."
"Do you think it's her?" Kaidan asked, hope threaded through his words.
Garrus set his mug down with an abrupt thud. He whipped his head around to look at Liara, who was still fixated on the flickering datapad in Kaidan's hand.
"We can't be sure right now. But it's the best piece of information I could find. There are no biosignatures or other identifying data," said Liara.
"We have to go back to the Citadel." Garrus' heart had dropped out of his chest and fallen somewhere below the engineering deck—in the shuttle bay, ready to board the Kodiak. If there was any chance she had survived, he was going to find her himself.
Kaidan looked up. "Not so fast. We don't know what could be waiting for us there. How do we know all the Reapers are dead? We're incommunicado, there's no way to know. And we aren't even sure it's her."
"You're going to risk leaving Shepard behind because you're not sure? This is the woman who tried to warn everyone about the Reapers and no one believed her. She saved the whole damned galaxy! She deserves more than that from her own crew."
"Of course, I know that. I was there too Garrus," Kaidan said in a steady voice.
Garrus knew he wasn't in his right mind, but he bit anyway. "Yeah, you were there. Then you ran—you abandoned her when you thought she might be working for Cerberus. The woman came back from the dead, but you were so wrapped up in being a good Alliance boy you couldn't be bothered to understand. Hell, you didn't even trust that she was really Shepard!" In a rare show of malice, Garrus opened his mouth slightly and bared his sharp teeth, the pointed tip of his tongue taut and full of ire.
"Hey, that's not fair—" Kaidan began.
James appeared from the kitchen to add a voice of reason. "Hey, hey fellas, let's chill. We can agree that everyone here wants Shepard to be alright, right? Besides, what would the Commander do?"
Regretting his agitated outburst, Garrus gazed down into his empty mug. "I knew it was her. The moment she crossed the bridge on Omega and sent those freelancers flying into the air. I watched her through the scope. She was alive. It was Shepard—there was no mistaking it." He turned to Kaidan. "Just like I know she's alive right now. She's alive, I'm certain of it."
Tali, who was sitting next to him, put her hand on his shoulder. "Oh Garrus..."
"I'm sorry," said Garrus. "You're right, it's not fair. You're here now. I don't know why I said it. Spirits, Shepard would give me a mouthful for what I just said..."
"Well, I won't tell if you don't," interrupted Liara.
"Hah, me too," uttered Tali. "As entertaining as it would be, I don't wish to see you tortured, Garrus. I've grown rather fond of you."
Kaidan nodded. "Look, I understand where you're coming from. But we don't even have the ship running yet. First thing's first, we need to get back to the rendezvous point. Or at least re-establish communications with the Alliance, or anyone for that matter."
"Any updates on our status, Major?" asked James.
"Adams thinks the engine will be online in the next 24 hours. We'll have to play it by ear after that."
"And Shepard?" asked Garrus.
"We'll go back to the Citadel as soon as we know it's safe," Kaidan replied.
"Understood." Garrus rose from his chair and gathered the remaining dishes on the table, including Kaidan's. "Let me wash these for you. No hard feelings."
The Citadel
Shepard came to again, certain she had imagined the white orb. It had been at least two or three days since her last sip of water, judging by the state of her painfully cracked lips and parched throat. Longer for food. Injury and lack of nourishment had impaired her perception; she had been having vivid visions, some pleasant, others not, and they all felt real.
During one of her hypnagogic states, Admiral Anderson—dressed in his finest formal uniform—watched over her and smiled. He looked younger, his deep brow lines and malar bags burnished to soft contours. He knelt down on one knee, his hands resting atop it.
He whispered, "You've grown, child. But you still have a long way to go. Dig deep. Don't forget."
"Don't forget what?" she wanted to ask, but he vanished as soon as she began to speak.
The vision left Shepard bereft. The hope that it had inspired faded into a desperate desire for fresh air. But the air around her was pale and stagnant. Summoning a shred of comfort, she began to recall her mother's face—the way her hazel eyes would narrow to glinting slashes whenever young Shepard stomped into the house painted in mud—but her features remained nebulous and impenetrable. Shepard wished she could see her mom, just once.
Her reverie was interrupted by another visitor. A pair of unnatural blue irises shone through the dark. Shepard scratched at the ground, trying to sit up straighter as the Illusive Man—who had killed himself days earlier—materialized. He fixed his gaze upon hers. A hot, stabbing pain shot through her eyes. He offered his hand in a helping gesture, but the gesture was a pretense for harm; the tips of his fingers pierced her forehead. Thrusting his hand in further, he clenched at the folds of her brain. His stony face was still as he squeezed mercilessly, over and over as if wringing out a sponge, and he rattled the biotic implant he had been responsible for replacing. Aching to scream out in pain, Shepard could only squeal when he finally let go. She gasped for air as he retreated into the shadows.
When the awful throbbing in her head subsided, a strange sensation washed over her body. Her senses were blunted. Her limbs had become dense and inert, as if severed from the whole. Her thoughts began to unravel. The whole of the war—the fight for the galaxy and the many lives that depended on her—felt far away.
The white orb from earlier was back, this time much closer—within arms reach. Her vision was blurry, but she could make out the shapes of people running towards her. They were shouting; rubble crumbled beneath their feet as they scrambled up and down hills of debris. A glaring ray of light hit Shepard's face.
"YOON! WE'VE GOT A SURVIOR HERE! BRING THE CRUSH KIT!" a disembodied voice rang out.
The sound of steps grew louder as a face came into focus.
"Commander Shepard...Commander Shepard! It's alright, we've found you. You're going to be ok. You're going to get some help. Hang in there, Commander," the kind face said.
Shepard felt a warm hand on hers. This person is really here, I'm not alone.
Song: "Not Alone" – Ólafur Arnalds (instrumental)
