I've been a bit of a fan of the series since back in 2009 when I first played it on the Xbox 360. I remember I didn't have much to do at the time, so I was like "Why not?" And things went on from here, as I've found new friends, followed communities, and I even got a selfie with my brother and Jennifer Hale herself at a local con. How crazy was that? It was an opportunity of a lifetime, and I won't forget it.

Anyway, the way this chapter began was a flashback I liked. I didn't have any idea what to do with it nor where to put it in my fic, and I didn't want to put it to waste.

Chapter Seven: Boston

Year: 2012
Location: Boston, Massachusetts

Christmas Day; that time of the year again. Instead of Eric and his family going over to New York upstate to visit his uncle Seth, many of his relatives on both sides of his family came over to his place instead. To his disappointment, he couldn't find his father anywhere. He knew his dad was redeployed, but he couldn't help but have this sense of incompleteness, with his mother taking up most of the slack on taking everyone here.

Deep down, he feared it was going to be some sort of clash or something, where some idiot would get drunk and rowdy, leading to a brawl, and someone would call the police. Much to his relief, none of that happened. Maybe he was in a pretty bad mood lately.

With all the gift-exchanging and the constant chatter and the like, it started to wear him down a little.

"Why don't you say hi, Eric? Hi, Eric! This is your new cousin, Juan!" his aunt Lila cooed rather excitedly at one moment, waving the newborn's delicate arm.

"Wow, I beat you? That's a first," Garcia remarked while playing a game of Mario Party on the Wii.

"Hey, Eric! Did I give you that smartphone already?" Seth called out another point.

Now it was too much for him to bear. Right now, he'd rather watch through the window behind the couch, hoping to see some snowfall. That would be entertaining.

Come to think of it, did he get anyone a gift for this year?

"Eric? Why aren't you playing Mario with your cousins?"

Eric jolted a little. He turned to his left, seeing his grandmother Carol sitting next to him. Like every time he saw her, she always wore a fluffy sweater, this time a green and red-rimmed one with a Christmas tree in the middle.

"Oh… hey, Abuela," Eric sighed and settled on the couch, looking at the TV mounted on an old, brown leather stand as his cousins continued playing Mario Party. The screen showed a part of a large, colorful, and crowded board, with Mario skipping across each large blue dot before stepping on a pink dot. "I think they're good. They already got enough people to play as it is. They seemed happy enough."

"They take turns, your sister included," she pointed out.

Eric said nothing, only rolling his eyes as he groaned in disgust.

It was then his grandmother noticed something about him, judging by the concerned look on her face. "Are you okay, Eric?" she asked, her hand on his.

"I'm okay, Abuela," he insisted, looking away from her.

Her face made more wrinkles when she frowned, all mirth disappearing. "But aren't you having a good time?"

"Well…"

"Well, that's just rude!" she retorted with wide eyes. "It's Christmas, for goodness sake! I doubt you'll get another chance to spend time in person for a while, aren't you?"

Eric doesn't want to argue with her. She was her grandmother, and it was Christmas day. Why would he ruin it for everyone else?

He hung his head forward with his hands together. "You know what?" He puffed his cheeks before pressing his lips together. "You're right. I'll do my best for your sake."

His grandmother's frown turned upside down, a warm smile traveling across her face. She seemed pleased with Eric's answer. "That's the spirit!" she said, giving Eric a small and brief hug.

"Thank you, Abuela." He smiled in return, but he couldn't help but notice her arms were shaking.

His grandmother sat up. "Now, I need to go outside for a bit for a smoke."

"Wait, that stuff…" he tried to protest. He wanted to.

Her head dropped in shame. "I know, Eric. I'm trying. I'm doing my best for your madre's sake." With that, she sauntered out of the living room and onto the porch outside, closing the front door behind her.

Eric looked back at the window and saw it was nighttime already. Time sure passed by quickly.

His mother walked out of the kitchen and stopped in between the dining area and the living room. "Okay, everyone!" She clapped her hands together to get everyone's attention. "Dinner's ready!"

In a span of a minute, many gathered in the dining area. There were two tables, one taller than the other. The taller and longer one, made of oak, had several empty plates surrounding a stuffed turkey. Near the edge of the room, by the rather large window looking out to the neighborhood, was the short plastic table with plastic chairs, suitable for small children.

"Did we get everyone, Felicia?" Eric's grandfather, Arturo, asked. He wore the same sweater as his grandmother. Also, he sat down next to Eric after the latter gathered a plateful of sliced turkey and black olives.

Eric's mother looked around at a hurried pace before her face fell into a scowl. Eric looked around as well. Realization dawned on Eric that he hadn't seen his brother since earlier today when he gave his brother Halo 4. With his birthday money, no doubt.

"Dios mío, ¿dónde está ese muchacho idiota?" His mother rolled her eyes before turning toward him. "Eric, could you go out and get your brother? Tell him dinner's ready."

Eric nodded. He didn't like being around that many people, anyway. He squeezed out of his chair in haste and sauntered out of the kitchen, leaving his dinner untouched.

He went up the stairs by the living room, the woodwork creaking after each step. Soft and quiet, he passed by each framed picture after he flipped the lights on. A sense of nostalgia filled the air as he slowed his pace.

Some either depicted him, his relatives, or both, like the one where his two-year-old self and his mother at the time played around in the kiddie pool. Another was showing his sister from ten years ago, showing her blue Tamogatchi in broad daylight. Other pictures were old, some with faded colors while others black and white.

On the tenth step, he stopped when he saw a picture of his father wearing his military uniform before he went out on his first tour. The picture had him standing straight, a blank expression on his face. Eric knew why he left earlier this year, but he lowered his head and looked away, frowning. Every time he called his father, sent him a message on Facebook, emailed him, and even tried doing a voice chat on Skype, his father always said he was busy.

At the top of the stairs was where a cross would be, with dust gathering around its spot. Eric looked away, a mixed feeling of embarrassment and disgust lingering in him. He didn't want to be reminded of what happened years ago.

He blinked, shaking off his thoughts as the sounds of Alfonso playing a video game grew louder as he approached a door across the room from the stairs. Judging by the simulated gunfire, Alfonso was playing Halo 4.

He knocked on the door. "Hey, it's Eric. Mamá sent me to get you. Dinner's ready."

"I'm in the middle of something!" Alfonso replied behind the door.

Eric frowned. "Want me to bring Garcia? You know having dinner with family is more important than playing that game I got you."

"I'm playing Mass Effect right now!"

Eric frowned. "What?" He did not just hear his brother say that.

"Hey, don't freak out like that! I'll get to Halo eventually."

"Look, quit messing around and—" Eric stopped himself as he barged in, the door swung open.

The room was small and an absolute mess at that. It was well-lit by a lamp on the desk to his right. The carpet floor was littered with garbage, most of them candy wrappings and chip bags. The bed was a mess, and a pile of clothes had squashed up next to Alfonso. On the desk was a copy of Halo 4, still wrapped in plastic. Across from the desk was a small TV on top of a drawer, with the Xbox 360 standing next to it.

And there was his brother, sitting on the bed with the controller on his lap. "What the hell, man?" he called out, giving him a dirty look.

Eric crossed his arms. He eyed the unwrapped game before gazing at Al's TV, showing the Xbox blue-and-white interface, the picture behind it darkened. A dark-haired man in blue armor stood next to a large glowing terminal, his hand over a flashing red button with a red star appearing at the corner of the screen.

"So that's Mass Effect?" he asked, unfolding his arms.

Alfonso nodded. "Yep. Third game in the series. That's the Omega DLC, by the way."

"What about Halo? You were pretty excited about that," Eric pointed out, all his frustration receding.

His brother rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but I have to catch up. I didn't even look up some spoilers online."

"But… why?"

Alfonso smirked. "What do you think?"

Eric knew a little about the series, but since his brother wouldn't shut up about it, he lost interest. Right now, he had more pressing concerns like not pissing his mother off.

"You know what?" Alfonso asked as he sat up with a grunt. "I'm starvin'. We better get downstairs before Mom kills us. Or lecture us in front of everyone."

"Just like that?" Eric asked, surprised at the sudden turn of events.

"Just like that. C'mon," Alfonso replied.

Eric nodded and followed his brother as they left the room.

Now he thought about it, the series had some interesting concepts like an exotic material that released dark energy in addition to pursuing a romance with a character of the same sex. If only he hadn't had so much homework to do…

"Wait, about Mass Effect…" he started.

"Yeah?" Alfonso asked as he looked back at Eric.

"So when can I try them out?"

"Oh, so now you're interested?" Alfonso asked while going down the stairs. "Maybe after dinner, okay? I'll let you play in my room, but you'll have to start playing games with me like you promised, and that includes the one you're not into. And if you want the full experience, start with the first game. Deal?"

Eric considered Alfonso's offer before smiling. What was the worse could have happened, anyway? "It's a deal."

Year: 2182
Location: Angkor Wat, Earth

On the walls of the passageway, the white paint had faded from centuries worth of wear and tear, more so than his last visit. They were decorated with carvings, detailing large-scale battles like the Battle of Lanka and various aspects of Hindu mythology. Once again, Eric was so entrenched by the level of detail and the stories of people and powerful beings that he lost track of time.

But he stopped and gathered his bearings. Wasn't that what led him to the orb in the first place? He walked past the bystanders. Most ignored him while a few of them he bumped into were polite enough to either apologize or say, "excuse me." At least the temple wasn't crowded.

He wandered around aimlessly and saw a few daring teenagers climb up the steep stairs of the smaller towers as his siblings had done beforehand. He wondered how things would have been different if his father had bothered to come with them to Thailand. Maybe he would've told himself to be mindful. Maybe he would've been a bit more grateful for his son.

Eric sighed deeply, unclenching his fists as he shivered a little. He saw his breath coming out of his mouth only to disappear a second later. It was a good thing he was wearing a hat and a jacket. It was freezing out here!

He returned to his thoughts and realized anger was welling up inside him. He knew it was probably more complicated than that. It wasn't like anyone, not even his father, would see him whisked away to another universe. His father loved him, but looking back, his military service wasn't the only thing that changed him.

Year: 2013
Location: Boston, Massachusetts

Eric tapped his mechanical pencil on his desk. He was in the middle of doing his homework, but he found himself drawing a blank. His nostrils flared up, irritated that somehow, he lost his train of thought on an essay question from his AP Physics textbook downloaded on his laptop. It was supposed to be an easy question for him, but did he forget something?

He rubbed his temples to fight against the throbbing pain in his head. He had been looking at the screen for too long. He scrolled back up a few pages to re-read a section. A minute later, he had the answer.

Just as he started to write down the answer on the notepad, he looked up to the window in front of him. It was the afternoon, though rather cold according to the weatherman. It was rather sunny, the sunlight giving his small room plenty of light. Outside were rows and rows of houses and apartments lying by a large body of water he could barely see. Given the weather and the time of day, there were plenty of birds in the sky and he could hear the roar of an airplane overhead.

He sighed. His brother and father went to the Marathon. Alfonso wanted to join in the race, but his father objected. Eric wished he would've come along, but he had homework to do.

He looked up and stared out the window. It would have been nothing out of the ordinary, if not for a trial of smoke rising southwest from his home.

With widening eyes, Eric gasped. His father and brother were there, at Copley Square. Boylston Street. That was where the Marathon took place.

His mind swam in a never-ending stream of thoughts and questions. What happened? Was there a fire over there? Was anyone okay?

He sat in his chair, doing nothing, saying nothing. Seconds stretched on, turning into an eternity. He wasn't sure what to do, how to react to this, or anything, really.

A faint boom and another trial of smoke rose near the same spot. This was never a fire.

Footsteps came rushing to his room, and the door swung open behind him. Eric jolted up and turned around, seeing his sister. Her hand on the handle, her eyes were wide with the same kind of terror he had.

"Garcia, what's going on?" he asked.

"You need to see what's on the news right now," his sister answered.

Eric sat up and rushed out of his room and down the stairs with her. "What about Al? And Papá?"

"Couldn't get a hold of either of them," Garcia answered quickly.

They entered the living room. The TV showed police officers and soldiers in uniform urging people to get to safety. It was hard to make out what was going on, with smoke concealing much of the scene and the camera shaking every several seconds. He stared silently, his welling eyes glued to the screen as he approached and sank to the couch.

"Let me see if I can try getting a hold of them again," Garcia spoke, and she went back upstairs.

Sirens wailed outside, getting louder while passing by the house. It was the ambulance, he theorized. His heart sank as the implications began to set in. He could hope, perhaps even pray, that his brother and father would be alright, along with everyone else in the city.

He looked up to see his mother sitting next to him. A mix of worry and horror was marked all over her face. Her hands were over her mouth.

"Hey…" Eric croaked.

His mother said nothing, her eyes focused on the TV as a correspondent talked and recapped what was going on.

"I…" he began. He was at a loss for words. "Someone left a bomb at... Why would someone do that?"

"I don't know." Her voice began to crack. "I don't know how to answer that. I'm not God. I can't read people's thoughts." She paused for a moment. "Maybe there's… there's something wrong going on in their head. Maybe they just want to hurt others and make them suffer for it."

"That's a pretty messed up view of the world," Eric replied.

"Yeah," his mother agreed.

Neither of them said anything else, even with more breaking news unfolding.

"Can I tell you something?" he asked.

"Anything," her mother answered.

"I want to help out."

It was then his mother shot him that look, all grave and disapproving. "I'm sorry, but no."

"Wha…?" Eric found himself confused. "But…"

"No," she repeated. Her tone was harsh. To be honest, it was surprising to see her like that, let alone hear her like that.

Eric sat up and turned to see her. With narrowed eyebrows, he crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Don't you start…" she frowned.

"Why not?"

"Because it's too dangerous out there," she answered, not breaking her eye contact with her son. "For all we know, whoever has set up these bombs could still be out there. I don't want you getting hurt!"

"I still want to come," he insisted. "You're a nurse. You're supposed to help people. Besides, it's not that far from Copley Square. I'll be safe with other people. Hell, I can even get there on foot."

"No. It'll take too long to get there."

"Well, I can take the car and—"

"You are not taking the car," she shot back, her voice beginning to rise. Despite this, she never showed any other signs of anger.

Eric frowned, unfolding his arms as his nostrils flared up. "Look, I'm not that worried about myself. I'm more worried about the others, okay?" He pointed at the TV showing a bunch of people carrying another person on a stretcher to an ambulance, blood staining his clothes. "Everyone's out there trying to help! Maybe even risking their lives doing so?" His arm lowered. "What about Al? What about Papá? Huh? How would you feel if either of them gets hurt? What about both?!"

"So am I, mi hijo. I know you want to help," his mother replied, her voice lowering. "But I pray to God it'll be taken care of. The authorities will be looking for whoever has done this, and I'm sure your hermano and papá will be safe and sound. They'll be home soon. I know it."

Eric wanted to speak out. He wanted to do something and make a difference, no matter how small that might be. He didn't want anyone else to suffer. He wanted to be a good person for once. Hell, he could just walk out of here. But he stopped and wondered to himself, would he really do that to his mother, making her worry like Alfonso did when he was late home from school? He would get a scolding from her, and a worse one from his father. He wasn't ready for it. Not yet. No one wanted to have their child hurt or worse.

"I don't think there's anything you can do now, Eric," she continued, doleful.

"What about later?"

"I don't know." His mother grabbed the remote and turned the TV off. At least Eric was thankful for that; they had enough of this bullshit. "Please, just… just stay here. It's for your own good."

She said nothing else as she sat up and left the living room, and Eric stood there all by himself in the living room.

With slumped shoulders and a lowered head, he left the living room as well.

It's for your own good.

That hit him right in the gut like a bulldozer had gone through the wall and ran him over for good measure as he walked up the stairs. Sure, she was his mother and she truly cared for and loved him. With his father always busy with work, she had to double her efforts and pick up the slack he left behind. But to Eric, it was nothing short of condescension, no matter how she spun it.

When he reached the top of the stairs, his pacing slowed as he passed by the door to his sister's bedroom. He leaned against the door, and he could tell she was inside, judging by the soft sobs.

He knocked on the door. He waited. The sobs went silent.

"Garcia?" Eric called out.

There was no answer. Eric knocked on the door again.

"Hey, it's Eric. You don't sound so good."

Again, no answer came from inside her room.

Slowly and cautiously, Eric creaked the door open enough for him to peek inside.

The room was slightly larger than his. Her golden-yellow bed with a willow frame and lily pillows was packed in a corner by his left, the walls painted a bright red.

His sister was on the bed, all curled up in a fetal position. Her back had turned against the wall.

He hesitated. Maybe I shouldn't barge in if she didn't answer.

He was about to leave and go to his room, but she shifted and tossed around, seeing him just as he stepped out. "Eric?"

Eric stopped and looked back. "Oh. Hey, Garcia. I thought I should check up on you. Doing alright?"

She sat up before shaking her head. Dried tears trailed down her cheeks, her face was red with sadness. "No. I'm not doing so good."

"Me neither." Eric stepped into the room nervously. "Um, mind if I—"

"It's fine. Go ahead."

Eric said nothing as he sat down in her office chair by her bed. "I couldn't help it either." He lowered his head. He curled his lips. "So, about Papá and Al…"

"No. I still couldn't get a hold of either of them," Garcia answered. "I left them some texts and voicemails. I hope that'll work out."

"Yeah, me too." He sighed and looked up at her. He wanted to try something different so they could take their minds from what seemed like the end of the world.

"Hey, you remember the time Al dared you to eat one of those Naga Viper peppers? You were on the floor at Simon's place, screaming like crazy." He nearly broke into a chuckle. "Like, your face was all red and stuff."

Garcia puffed her cheeks to stop herself from smiling. "Oh, fuck off, Eric! At least he ate one himself. Serves him right if you ask me."

"Yeah," he smiled. "He was happy about it."

"Well, let's see…" Garcia fell into deep thought for a moment, trying to remember another thing they could reminisce about. "What about the time Papá managed to beat you and Al in Super Smash Bros.? He never played a video game before."

"Hey! I was six! And Al was nine!" Eric shot back playfully. "You can't blame both of us for that!"

"You and Al have been playing games a lot longer than he has," she pointed out, finally breaking into a smile.

"Can't argue with that." Come to think of it, he realized he hadn't played much before playing the Mass Effect series. Maybe he should catch up. He did promise to Al that he would play with him. "It'll be nice for Papá to, uh, take a break."

Garcia rolled her eyes and rested her hands on the mattress. "Don't think that's likely."

"I know. I just wanted to say it." Eric pressed his lips together. "And… I kinda wish Mamá would let me out of the house."

This made his sister confused. "What for?" she asked with arched eyebrows.

"She says it's for my own good." Eric clenched his knees, anger and frustration welling up inside him as his nostrils flared up. "I just want to help and maybe find Al and Papá as well."

"Same. I'm planning on volunteering. A lot of people got hurt, and they need help. They need blood donations, medical supplies, stuff like that. It's not gonna die down anytime soon."

Eric nodded. He wished he could donate blood as well. "That's nice. But it doesn't explain why Mamá treated me that way."

Garcia let out a deep sigh as she closed her eyes for a moment. The struggle to find the words to say was palpable on her face. "She's taking it pretty badly, you know. She didn't want you hurt or missing or worse."

"I know."

"But it's not right for her to treat you like that." She paused thoughtfully before continuing. "Have you heard of the Serenity Prayer?"

Eric heard about it before. God granted me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. That was how he remembered it. But he didn't want to accept that this would be a part of his life, and at the same time, he never felt so powerless in his life.

He said nothing.

Footsteps came up the stairs, then to the hallway, louder as they went closer to Garcia's room. The sudden noise brought their attention to their mother stopping at the door. There was that overjoyed and, more importantly, relieved look on his mother's face. "It's your hermano. He just called. Your hermano and papá are alright!"

It was dusk, the sun setting behind the many buildings in Copley Square. Someone placed a handheld radio near the fountain with the two obelisks. The stranger inserted a CD into the radio and hit the play button. People started to gather around the site to memorialize the victims of the attack. Three people perished, and hundreds were injured.

In restless dreams I walked alone

Narrow streets of cobblestone

'Neath the halo of a streetlamp

I turned my collar to the cold and damp

When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light

That split the night

And touched the sound of silence

The crowd continued singing in unison as more gathered to join in, some to bring lit candles, pictures of loved ones, well-wishing cards, and other small objects. All of them gathered around a large, decorated poster that read, BOSTON STRONG in green marker

Eric was among many others. He only brought a bag of flowers his mother bought. Even as people sang, he only stood silent. He couldn't bring himself to go along with the others. Neither could his brother.

It had been days since the bombing. The authorities, the FBI, and a few police departments were on the lookout for the suspects involved. It was a terrorist attack, they said. They told the public to keep out and report any suspicious activities. People started up efforts to aid the victims, helping them provide a speedy recovery. Various organizations and companies set up ways to find any missing persons. That was how Alfonso and his father were found.

A sharp tap on his shoulder brought Eric's attention to his brother. On the surface. Alfonso looked fine. He wore an anime-themed t-shirt to go along with his khaki pants and gray sneakers. His hair had been growing ever since late last year. Inside, however, was a whole different story.

Eric noticed him shiver if only just a little. "C'mon, let's get out of here," his brother urged him. "This place is starting to feel like a ghost town."

He blinked in confusion. It took him a moment to realize his brother and his father were close to the site of the bombing. That could shake anyone to the core, literally in this case.

"Okay," he nodded and followed closely behind his brother as they left the park behind, sauntering past the others in the crowd as they all chanted, "Boston Strong!"

Their car wasn't far away; it was down Boylston Street at a large yet unassuming parking lot. Neither Eric nor Alfonso said anything, even as they arrived at the parking lot. There were a lot more cars after they parked.

The silence made Eric more than a little uncomfortable. He wanted to say something, but he wasn't sure about what words he should pick. Should he comfort his brother? Ask about how he was doing? What about their father? The mere thought of his father spending time in the hospital troubled him. On one hand, it was the plan to give him a visit after stopping at Copley Square. On the other hand, he was hardly a fan of hospitals.

It took them a few minutes before they finally found it: a blue Honda car parked near the center.

"How are you holding up, Al?" Eric asked, breaking the silence.

Alfonso let out a confident smirk. He dug the keys out of his pocket, with a press of a button on the keychain, unlocked the door. "You know me. Getting by, as usual," he answered. "The doctors said I'm fine for the most part. Physically healthy and all that. No concussions, continuing ringing in my head, nor any signs of any internal injury."

"What about Papá?" Eric asked.

Alfonso opened the door. "I'm not sure," he answered, pausing before entering the car after Eric sat in the front passenger's seat.

"I mean, is he going to be alright?" Eric buckled up and made himself comfortable.

For a moment, his brother said nothing as he started the car and, with a few motions, carefully drove the vehicle out of the parking lot. He looked at him just before to make sure he wouldn't hit anything.

"Al?" Eric looked at him, concerned.

"You know how well I was even after the blast?" Alfonso finally asked as he drove the car down the road, joining with a stream of trucks and other cars.

Eric said nothing, his eyes on the road.

"Papá wasn't as lucky as I am. Getting a concussive blast can sure mess up your body. I mean, it rattles your organs and bursts your eardrums…"

Eric frowned and gave his brother a dirty look. "Quit being a dick, Al. That's not funny." He knew Alfonso was trying to light up a dark situation, but it didn't help.

His brother sighed. "Sorry. The doctors called Mamá earlier. She told me he's going to be alright, so I'm sure his ears haven't ruptured or something. He just needed to spend a little bit of time in the hospital."

Eric let out a relieved sigh. That was what he wanted to hear. "It's just… I can't really get this stuff out of my mind any more than to forget that this car is en coche," He knew it wouldn't be enough for him.

Alfonso smirked. "Doesn't make sense but took you long enough to see that." He sure was proud of his superior Spanish skills.

"I've studied Spanish back in junior high. I wanna make Mamá proud. You can't blame me for being a little rusty," Eric shot back.

"Yeah right."

"I'm serious."

"Sure you are."

Eric's nostrils flared up as he turned to his brother. "What about you? I don't see you speaking in Spanish."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Alfonso smirked.

"You know what I'm talking about."

His brother chuckled. The car slowed and stopped at a stoplight. He turned to Eric, his smirk turning into a warm, happy grin. "Hey. Boston Strong, man."

Eric nodded. "Yeah. Boston Strong," he repeated.

Year: 2182
Location: Angkor Wat, Earth

Eric remembered his father was fine. It took him several days to recover. While physical injuries can heal with time, the trauma his father experienced would remain. For how long, he doesn't know. It was tempting to apologize to his father for the crap he gave him, but would he do it since his father had laid a hand over his mother? Especially over his behavior?

He sat on the floor, leaning against the wall, and staring pensively at the other end of the room. His earbuds played the song he heard back last year. Last year in his universe, anyway. Sighing, he rubbed down his face to fight against the tears welling up in his eyes. He couldn't help it.

The room was small and circular, empty save for him and him alone. The ceiling above him had no openings, no signs of erosion, and the walls were made of sandstone. That fresh smell of recent restoration efforts lingered in the air. The only source of light was the light lights hanging from the ceiling.

He remembered, back at the hospital on the Citadel, that he wanted to just make a run for it and find a way back home. Now he was here, what was he supposed to do next? Stick around and have the orb pop out of nowhere and take him away, bring him back to his home universe? Or take him someplace else, he realized. Not only that, but wormholes tend to consume a lot of energy and annihilate the temple and anyone unlucky enough to be near it. If it was a wormhole, in theory.

He also realized he really didn't think things through.

"Eric!" The voice of his boyfriend called out, echoing in the hallways outside.

Eric stopped the music and removed the earbuds. He wiped away his tears and stood up, exiting the room behind him. Garrett was waiting for him, standing in the middle of the corridor. He was more than relieved to see him. Behind Garrett were Luke and Natalie, their worried expressions also turned into relief mixed with confusion.

"You made us worried, Eric. You just… wandered off on us," said Natalie, letting out a sigh through her nostrils. "Is everything alright?"

A humming sound rang in his ears. He looked back to that small, circular room. For a second, he saw what seemed like something taking on a blue hue, just out of the corner of his eye. He blinked, and it vanished. Was that his imagination, or did he miss his chance with the orb?

"Eric?" Luke asked.

It took quite a bit of willpower to turn his head around, however slowly, to see Luke. It took some more for him to come up with something to say, betraying the blank look on his face." Yeah?"

"The temple's about to close up for the night. You sure you want to get in trouble?"

"What?" Eric tilted his head, a mixture of surprise and confusion palpable on his face. He peeked out and saw the sky was a darker shade of blue. It was also getting colder, the mist escaping his mouth intensifying. "Oh… I'm sorry. It won't happen again." With that, he and the others joined the crowd, following down another corridor and heading out for the exit.

"Hey, Eric? You look like you had a lot on your mind. What's up?" Garrett asked.

"Just some old habits, Garrett," Eric answered.

"Really?" Garrett's eyebrows furrowed after looking around for no reason.

"Yeah. Nothing bad about it."

The rest of the conversation carried on like nothing strange had happened. Garrett was on about a game tie-in to Wild Dagger, while Natalie and Luke were talking about preparing for their kids' birth. Things to buy, a baby shower for Natalie, the works.

Eric's mind wandered for a moment, drowning out the chatter. It was crazy for him to be here with people he wouldn't think to be with. He assumed he would have no one to connect to and no way to get back home. But now? He knew what would happen next. The war against Cerberus and the Reapers would happen and it would claim the lives of billions. He would be as capable of dying as everyone else. He reminded himself there were still the geth and the Collector invasions. These hung over him like a dark cloud.

But his old life, his universe? It was time for him to move on.

Years ago, 4Ferelden and I were working on the fic's plotline. When I suggested this plot point, he was against the idea since it was fresh on everybody's minds at the time. I can understand that. Well, time heals all wounds as they say, and I feel it was appropriate to write this event from Eric's perspective.

I intend to portray this as one story among many, exploring the personal impact the Boston Marathon Bombing would have on someone like Eric and his family. I believe this would be the best approach to it.