Jack looked out at Illium, and the hand in the front pocket of his hoodie tightened. Illium was, supposedly, safer than Omega: clean streets, clean-cut residents, and an actual police force. The only problem, of course, was everything else. On Omega, everything was legal if you had the casse-couilles and the guns, but on Illium, all you needed was the right contract. Jack had only known one man in the Capital who used contracts like that, and he hadn't ponied up all that money to free his servant for nothing - nor had he torn the thing in two the moment it was his for nothing, either.

He shook his head. Miranda had told him plain and simple that all of Cerberus' evidence indicated that it was the Alliance who took the Asari, and they were well outside of Alliance space. More than that, he was in the market for some unique materials, and Illium was, for all of the reasons that it wasn't safe, the right place to find a lot of it. Especially the kind of power cell he would need in the place of a fission battery...

Jack sighed. Up his left sleeve was a paper shank, and a holdout pistol was in a thigh-holster. There was a small switch attached to the inside of his right sleeve that would turn on his shields if (and when) he would need them. And none of that was counting his typical collection of weapons inside his backpack. If anyone came looking for trouble, he'd give it to them, and then a lot more.

But he didn't feel safe as he was let into Illium proper and joined the crowds of shoppers and merchants and mercenaries. He had a vid-call with Morinth tonight, and he very much wanted to make it. The marks she'd left on him were fading, and it had only been a little time, but he positively ached for her. She was a great listener, and she wasn't too nosy, either. She asked some questions, of course, but never anything that crossed a line, and even away from her, he felt a little light-headed when speaking to her. A nice sort of light-headed; the kind that helped him forget some of his worries, even if only for an hour or two. As he stepped into an elevator that connected to a shopping mall, however, his worries were very much on his mind.

That was why he need this. His shotgun and pistol and rifle, those were well and good, but there was one tool that he'd lost a long time ago that he wanted back. If it could punch through Enclave power armor, it could sure as shit punch through the shields and armor of this place.

"Duct tape? Of course, of course! Which brand?" the first merchant he came to asked. Jack chose three of the heavy-duty rolls and went on his way.

"A crutch?" the second merchant asked. "We don't really sell those..."

Jack shook his credit chit at her, however, and the merchant sang a different tune. Jack got fewer looks than he thought carrying it around, so that was something.

He had to go to a few different weapon merchants, but at last he found one willing to sell him the kind of power cell he needed. It ran him an entire week's paycheck, but he'd been saving that credit chit from Freedom's Progress for a reason.

The steam gauge and spikes, however, those took him all day and an overpriced sandwich to find. But by the time he got back to the Normandy, despite the odd look he got from the customs official, he had everything he needed. Jack debated where to build it, but in the end, he decided on his first choice: his room. He didn't want anyone else seeing how he made it - it was one of the few things he could truly call his at this point.

At the end of his shift the next day, Jack took his rifle to the range and put on some music. He smiled very wide when he heard the choo-choo! when it fired. The spike landed true, driving through the target with a loud clang. Jack was leisurely about his shooting, so leisurely that Miranda eventually came up to him and asked what exactly he thought he was doing.

"Just having some fun on the range," Jack shrugged. By this point the two targets had been eaten into by spikes, and Miranda looked at him like he had grown a second head.

She raised an eyebrow. "What is that?"

"I call it the Railway Rifle," Jack said with some pride.

Miranda looked to the spikes, the rifle, and then back to Jack. "Charming."

Jack took in some of the people around them, then shrugged. "I made it myself."

"I can see that."

"I'd run out of microfusion cells," Jack said. "The Brotherhood didn't give me enough to make it to the vault, so, y'know, I improvised."

"You're lucky we're in the terminus systems." Miranda said. "I don't think that thing would be legal in Council space."

"Who cares if some slavers get killed?" Jack said. "I say it's karma."

"Why didn't you find another firearm?" Miranda asked.

"We called them Super Mutants," Jack said. "They were - there's too much to say, really. What matters is that the worst of them only got more pissed when I shot them. So I improvised."

"I can see," Miranda said. "If that thing explodes, however, it's your funeral."

"Oh ye of little faith," Jack grinned. "On our next mission, it'll work wonders."

Miranda hummed. "Now, those 'Super Mutants'..."

Jack's grin faded. "A long story."

Miranda leaned back and crossed her arms. "I have time."

"A long story," Jack said again.

"Then at least give me the abridged version," Miranda said. She turned to the other crew members in the range and snapped her fingers. They promptly left the room, and she turned back to Jack. "There."

Jack sighed. "Look, they're - they're bad. Like, eating people bad."

Miranda cocked an eyebrow.

"Screw you," Jack said. "Look, Super Mutants - they collected shit in bags of gore. They kidnapped people and turned them into more Super Mutants."

"How did they do that?" Miranda asked.

"FEV," Jack said dully. "And no, I'm not explaining that. It was something made before the war, but all it made was Super Mutants."

"I see," Miranda said.

"Don't even think about it," Jack said darkly. "Seriously. They'll rip your arms off, if they don't turn you first."

"They sound like-"

"No," Jack said. "Don't. Don't try. You won't succeed, and even if you do, you'll just create more problems. Also, Super Mutants are sterile. They don't lead anywhere. They're barely good to you dead."

"Alright," Miranda eventually said. "But who sent you after them?"

Jack shook his head. "Not today."

Miranda nodded. "Then I'll leave you to your shooting. Might want to run this weapon by Shepard, however."

Jack looked to the spike in the middle of the target's forehead, then back to Miranda. "Not today, either."

"Jackie," Morinth said. "Can I call you that?"

Jack flushed some. He said to the tablet holding the vid-call, "Um..."

"What are you wearing?" Morinth said with an exaggerated raise of her eyebrows. Jack laughed.

"Subtle," he said.

"What are you doing?" Morinth asked.

"Working on some ammo," Jack said. "I use antiques."

"Antiques?"

"Old guns," Jack said.

"I've come across some of those," Morinth said.

"Not a lot of human ones, I'd imagine," Jack said, picking up an empty shotgun shell. He poured in some gunpowder, and some pellets.

"No," Morinth said. "But I'd love to see some."

Jack took down his pistol and waved it in front of the screen. "How about this one?"

"How old is it?" Morinth asked.

"Over a hundred years," Jack said. "I think it's uh - it's a reproduction. My mom - no, my dad passed it down to me."

"I'd like to handle it one day," Morinth said. Jack shook his head.

"Perv," he said.

"Oh, sure," Morinth said. "I didn't see you saying no, did I?"

Jack chuckled. "No I did not."

"Anyways," Morinth said. "Commander Shepard. What's she like?"

"She's great," Jack said. "A little - I dunno - but she's a good commander. Always has time for us."

"How're things with that Quarian?" Morinth asked. "She still a pain in the ass?"

Jack took a moment longer than he thought to say, "Kind of. We haven't talked much."

"Because you've been avoiding her."

"... yes."

"Hey, I would too," Morinth said. "She sounds very nosy."

"She's on a Cerberus ship," Jack found himself saying.

"She is," Morinth said. "She is."

"We're currently headed back to Omega," Jack ran a hand through his hair. "Picked up this weird Asari on Illium, but she's nice enough. Nowhere near as nice as you, though."

Jack grinned, but Morinth's expression fell into something stony. "An Asari?"

"Um, yeah," Jack said. "What's the big deal?"

"The first chance when you get to Omega, the first chance, I need you to see me." Morinth said.

"Why?" Jack asked.

"Look at me," Morinth said. Jack did, and she looked genuinely frightened. "What is the Asari's name?"

"Her name is Samara, I think," Jack answered.

"Okay," Morinth breathed out. "I know how this might sound, but I promise I'm telling the truth."

Jack nodded slowly. "Uh-huh."

"Samara is trying to kill me," Morinth said.

"What?"

"How much did Shepard tell you about my mother?" Morinth asked.

"She's your mom?"

"What did Shepard tell you?" Morinth asked with more force.

"Not much," Jack said. "But this is getting weird."

"I need your help," Morinth said. "Just come to see me, okay? That's all I ask."

"O... kay."

"Thank you," Morinth said. "Really."

"Sure thing," Jack said.

"Now," Morinth leaned forward, and regained a smirk. "Talk dirty to me."

The next day, at breakfast, Jack watched Samara make herself some sort of Asari tea in the Mess, and Miranda followed his eyeline.

"Interested in our newest crew member?" she asked.

"What happened when Shepard recruited her?" Jack asked. He would've asked Garrus or Tali, considering that they were the ones Shepard brought for the mission, but - actually no, he wouldn't. They didn't like him, and the further he was from Tali, the better. But how to learn?

"Plenty," Miranda said. "But I'm not sure why you're interested, Jack."

"What did she do?" Jack asked. "What even is she? A merc?"

"Closer to a warrior monk," Miranda said. "and from Shepard's report, she's as violent as you."

"Ha," Jack said.

"I'm serious," Miranda said. "And she has about as much respect for the law as well."

Jack hummed. "You said she was violent?"

"Yes, she is," Miranda said. "and she operates with extreme prejudice. I wouldn't bother her if I were you."

Jack got her other meaning. He didn't like it, but he got it. "Understood."

"Good," Miranda said. "Oh, and those forms you asked for," She pulled up her omni tool, tapped at it a few times, and Jack's omni tool glowed to life. "I just gave them to you. Sign on the dotted line and you can let Mordin stick you with needles to your heart's content."

Jack nodded, and he glanced back to Samara as she disappeared around the corner. Then, well, he couldn't help himself and his eyes found Tali, who noticed his gaze and returned it. Jack looked away, embarrassed as a schoolboy. Oh, Susie would laugh at him to see it. Then she would probably get a little jealous He and Miranda finished breakfast and went to their stations.

The day went by slowly. Very slowly. There were too few guns and there was too much quiet for him not to think about how he was slipping up. Even if he told someone other than Miranda everything they probably wouldn't believe him, sure, but loose lips sink ships, and while Cerberus was bad, Jack had little doubt that the Alliance had its blacksites. He was, after all, a scientific marvel - proof for countless theories and an endless source of deeper questions about existence itself. He had to be careful, he had to be, but he couldn't help himself. How was he supposed to pretend that he was from here when everything he encountered reminded him otherwise?

Jack was only brought out of his brooding by Zaeed, and he got some choice looks from Jacob for it, but he spent his lunch hour explaining to the old merc how to make a Nuka-Grenade.

"Who taught you so much about explosives, kid?" he asked.

Jack shrugged. "I found a book."

"If this kills me, I'm coming back to haunt you," Zaeed said. "Now go on and call whatever girl you got laid with last night."

Jack watched Zaeed leave, then said, "Samara is trying to kill her."

"Who?" Zaeed asked.

"The girl I met," Jack said. "Samara is hunting her."

Zaeed took in what he said, then shrugged. "Well, it happens."

Jack watched him leave, and said, quietly, "Yeah. I guess."

Dogmeat was dying, and Jack was going to save him. He didn't care how; he was going to save him.

The poor thing had been picked up by him and Bittercup only a few weeks before. Dogmeat soon fell in love with both of them, and they with him. It was what they needed to reach each other again, nursing the dog, playing with the dog, grooming the dog. They even found a ratty old dog bed in the marketplace at Rivet City for the dog, which they set up in the corner of their hotel room. Considering that they were actually sleeping in the same bed again, however, neither Jack nor Bittercup minded. Bittercup had insisted that Jack take Dogmeat with him, if he was "Going to be stupid and fight all those Super Mutants", and so when he assaulted the Jefferson Memorial, Jack did.

Jack pounded the concrete, running faster than he ever remembered being capable of. He had given Dogmeat a stimpak and bandaged what he could, but the slashes across the dog's stomach was mean and already darkening the bandages. Dogmeat whined, high and pitiful, and it broke Jack's heart. He apologized to the dog all the way to the Rivet City clinic, and was surprised when a few someone joined him in the rush to get Dogmeat to the doctor.

A doctor who looked at Dogmeat and said, "I don't treat animals."

Jack had cursed out quite a few people while getting Dogmeat into the doctor's office, and he found himself bellowing, "You're helping him or so help me God I will rip out your throat!"

Jack glared at the man with hate, and soon enough the doctor acquiesced. Eventually Bittercup found him, sitting in a beaten-up foldout chair. Dogmeat was breathing, but it was labored, and the doctor kept looking back at Jack every few minutes, as if to make sure he hadn't moved.

"What happened?" Bittercup asked. Jack only looked at their dog, and his expression warbled. "Is he okay?"

"He will be," the doctor said. "But we're not, well..." he glanced at Jack nervously. "... no, I'm sure everything will be fine."

Bittercup gave Jack a hug, and asked what happened again.

How to explain it? By the clock, Jack had been up at least 15 hours. The Jefferson Memorial had to be taken room-by-room, corner to corner, one mean little scrap at a time. That, and the place was suffering a rad roach infestation for the ages, which Jack had to take care of after finally sinking a piece of broken pipe into the neck of the Super Mutant master. The roaches were what got to Dogmeat, not the mutants, because two or three hours into the rooting out the radroaches, Jack got sloppy. His fault.

Bittercup had to drag him from the doctor's office, but when Jack laid down on their bed, he was out like a light. When he woke up it was half a day later and Dogmeat still wasn't awake. Bittercup stopped him before he could march into the Doctor's office and make good on his promise.

"Stop," she said. "Jackie, stop."

"If he hasn't-"

"No!" Bittercup said. "You need to chill the fuck out! What's gotten into you?"

"Dogmeat is dying!" Jack shouted.

"Dogmeat is fine!" Bittercup shouted back. "Why are you like this?"

"Why am I like this?" Jack asked incredulously.

"Yes," Bittercup said. "I told you not to go."

"How else was I going to find out where my father went?" Jack demanded. "By asking those freaks nicely?"

"You could accept that he's gone," Bittercup said. "I don't know where my parents are. So what if your dad is dead?"

"You don't know what you're talking about," Jack spat.

"I don't? Really? You're from a Vault! You've been fat and happy all your life while the rest of us have been out here suffering. You don't know shit."

"I know enough."

"Do you?" Bittercup asked.

"Yes," Jack snapped. "I don't give up on family."

"Well sometimes the world doesn't cooperate," Bittercup said. "Sometimes you lose people, and you don't get them back. Sometimes you just have to deal."

"Bullshit." Jack growled.

"Big Town is gone," Bittercup said flatly. "Everyone there is dead or gone and they aren't coming back. You couldn't save them. I couldn't save them."

"I did my best!" Jack protested.

"That doesn't bring them back," Bittercup said. "Face it: your dad is probably dead. You'll go through all this trouble and then he'll die one day anyways. Move on."

"Fuck you." Jack grit out.

"I've been looking around, okay? There's an apartment we can rent. It'll be cheaper than this hotel room, and we can get jobs. Live a normal life. Isn't that what your dad would want for you?"

Jack surged forward, grabbed Bittercup by the throat, and slammed her against the wall.

"SHUT UP!" Jack bellowed. "SHUT UP!." he squeezed tight. "I DO EVERYTHING FOR YOU FUCKS, AND WHAT DO I GET? YOU THINK I'M AN IDIOT? YOU THINK I DON'T KNOW THIS? YOU THINK I WAKE UP EVERYDAY WONDERING IF HE'S STILL ALIVE? DO YOU? HUH?" Jack leaned in close. "YOU'RE ONLY ALIVE BECAUSE OF ME. YOU DON'T GET TO CRITICIZE ME. YOU DON'T GET TO SAY SHIT."

Jack glared at her, full of loathing. "YOU'RE FUCKING MUD PEOPLE. HALF OF YOU CAN'T EVEN READ. BUT HERE I AM, TRYING TO BE A GOOD PERSON, TRYING TO DO THE RIGHT THING, AND WHAT DO I GET FOR IT? HUH?"

Bittercup's eyes were wide, fearful. Jack slammed her against the wall again. She said nothing. Jack glared at her, into her, until he realized what he was doing.

And all of the sudden, the anger was gone. It gave way to shock, then horror, then utter shame. Jack retreated wordlessly. He knew he should apologize, but he was a coward. So, instead, he gathered his things and left. He made a beeline for the doctor's office and collected Dogmeat, heart racing, pulse pounding in his ears. Dogmeat licked his face when he woke up, and Jack wanted to cry. He gave Dogmeat another stimpak, then raced to the market, the mutt hot on his heels, where he traded for more bandages, food, and, feeling as if the whole world was judging him, a gas mask with a polarized visor that would hide his face.

Jack fled into the night, putting on the gas mask as he went.