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A Dream Within a Dream

Part 1

Chapter 13

Shepard blinked, the pure whiteness of the Codex illuminating the strange array of technology suddenly laid out before her.

"What is all this?" She asked, stepping up beside Garrus as he checked his weapons. Nearly all the crew was assembled as they readied themselves, and Tali flitted from device to device, checking that everything was correct and working.

"Don't you recognize it all?" he asked bemusedly as he looked at her with a quirked brow plate, and she looked back at him with a shake of her head.

"No, should I?"

"It's the same equipment we used when we unplugged you," he stated with a half smile, and Shepard's eyes widened as she looked back at it all with dawning understanding. It had all seemed vaguely familiar, but her focus that day had been far from the technology used to accomplish the feat that had changed her life irreparably.

"So Liara just loads it all here, and we take it with us into the Citadel?"

"Yeah, essentially. They're nothing more than our own special codes. This," he gestured to everything before them again, "is just the visualization of the tools we use to accomplish the numerous hacks required in order to unplug someone."

"Huh," Shepard mused as she inspected a particularly odd looking console. "And Miranda says that Jack is willing?"

"From the sound of it. We'll upload to the Citadel in a few minutes once we've checked that everything is functioning, and then we'll get it all hooked up once we're on site. When Miranda arrives with Jack, we'll get started. It will be just like when you were unplugged."

Memories washed over her unbidden, and the muscles in her neck and back tightened as she shivered. "I see." She hadn't had any interaction with Jack yet beside following her that morning, and yet she was suddenly overwhelmed with the strangest mixture of relief and pity for the other woman.

Garrus must have seen her thoughts reflected on her face because after a moment, she felt the pressure of his hand on her shoulder. "It's never easy to watch. But it's for the best. She'll be free after this."

"Yeah. I know."

Freedom. It came at a cost. One she would pay over and over again if she had to.

Her eyes fell on the large glass tube not far away, but they slid off a moment later as she tried not to wince.

It was worth the cost, but the cost was steep.

Even though the warehouse they set up in was an entirely different building on an entirely different ward of the Citadel, it looked almost identical to the room they'd brought Shepard to during her unplugging. Perhaps the floor was a different material, and perhaps the walls were a different color, but those details were lost on her as she watched the team setting the equipment up in the exact same configuration as last time.

There wasn't much for her to do other than watch and listen as Garrus and Tali talked her through what every part was for and how configured, though in actuality, she wasn't entirely sure they even completely understood how the process worked themselves. She hid a smile as Garrus glossed over some particularly complicated bits.

"Okay, sounds like they'll be here soon!" Vega called out as he looked up from his omni-tool, and there was a chorus of acknowledgments from the various stations. Jacob and Sidonis took up positions nearby as Garrus began typing at his console, lines of text scrolling down the screen. Anderson stepped out, heading down to the garage to greet them as everyone continued preparing.

Shepard could feel the anticipation building in the air, unsure if it was just her, or if everyone felt equally unsettled. They all must have experienced this from the other side as well, each of them having been unplugged at one point or another. The only crew members that hadn't were Joker and Liara, having been born amongst the Migrant Fleet instead. Everyone else must have the same horrific memories she did of that moment, standing in that tube, the warm water beginning to rise as it licked at her ankles, terror building in her chest as she banged her fists against the glass, her heart thudding a furious rhythm through her veins-

"You okay, Shepard?" She looked up to see Garrus watching her, and she let her breath out in a quiet huff. She'd thought she'd kept her face blank. Had it been that obvious?

"Yeah, of course," she muttered, looking around for something to do with her hands. He watched her for a moment before gesturing to a few cables that needed to be attached and walked her through the correct configuration.

She just got the last two clipped together when the door opened, and she stood to see Anderson stride into the room, Jack and Miranda trailing after him. She wasn't sure what she'd expected, but Jack's unamused sneer hadn't been it.

"What the fuck is all this?" Jack grunted as her hard gaze landed on each of them in turn before straying to the impressive array of mismatched technology before them. "I swear, if this is some sort of trap…" She trailed off, anger and suspicion written clear across her face, and Miranda rolled her eyes as she crossed her arms.

"As if we'd waste our time trying to lure you in under false pretenses. Either you want answers or you don't," she scoffed in an uninterested voice leveled just loud enough to carry. Jack stiffened at the words before shooting her a heated glare.

"Watch it, Cheerleader. I don't care what you say about this clown and the rest of his freak squad. I can turn and leave whenever I want, and you couldn't stop me even if you tried." Miranda snorted before opening her mouth to reply, but Anderson raised a hand and she shut it again with a snap.

"Enough, please. Jack, if you're ready to learn the truth, then we must hurry. Time is never our friend, and we need to be long gone before they arrive." He lifted two fingers to his ear as his eyes dropped. "Joker, do we have a connection?"

"Yep, a nice solid one. There shouldn't be any issues." Joker's voice came through the comm clearly, and Anderson nodded curtly. There was a flurry of movement as Jacob began typing nearby and Tali flitted between consoles, graphs and charts popping up on various screens.

Turning suddenly, Tali hurried over to Jack, her hands full of sensors and small pads. Shepard watched awkwardly, unsure how to help or what to do as everyone got to work performing tasks as she stood off to the side watching.

"Jacob, how is the connection on our end?" Anderson called out, and the other man looked up briefly.

"Stable and secure. Everything is good to go."

"Perfect. Garrus?"

"Ready when you are," Garrus called out before turning to Shepard. "Here, bring this to Anderson while I finish up here." He held out a small, prepared syringe, and Shepard took it gingerly as she nodded. Turning, she walked around the table to where the others stood. Anderson held his hand out to her, and she handed it over before taking a half step back to watch.

"Jack, if you'll hold your arm out," he held up the syringe, the cap now removed and the needle glinting in the harsh lights above.

"Hold up." Jack's eyes landed on the needle, and she drew back as storm clouds gathered in her face. "What the fuck is this? You trying to drug me or some shit? Oh, hell no! I knew you guys were a bunch of sick fucks! If you think I'm going to just stand here and let you-" Jack's voice rose in anger and she took a menacing step toward Anderson, her hands raised to push. Shepard moved in an instant, stepping between them as her expression hardened.

"Back off," Shepard hissed as her eyes narrowed, her hand lifted in warning between them. Jack paused, a snarl on her face as she took Shepard in.

"Get the fuck out of my way! And don't you dare look down your nose at me, Princess!" she yelled as she raised her fist, and Shepard moved before she could think. Catching the fist, her body flowed almost of its own accord, training kicking in before she could process it. Jack hit the floor hard, the air escaping in a harsh gasp, her eyes wide. Shepard straightened, keeping her face blank as she tamped down her own surprise.

"Then don't fuck with Anderson, and I won't need to," she stated calmly, her voice cool and detached. She felt a pressure on her shoulder, and she turned to see Anderson, a small, amused half smile on his lips.

"It's okay, Shepard. Thank you, but I'll take it from here." She nodded and stepped out from between them. Despite his words, she remained close, unwilling to stray too far from the tattooed woman who was coming to resemble a rabid dog more and more by the moment.

"Jack," Anderson continued as he turned to her, his voice gentle and calm, "no one here wants to harm you. Indeed, quite the opposite. We're here to help you, and this is a necessary step in the process. The shot won't hurt, and it has no side effects. But it is necessary if you want to discover the truth that has eaten at you for so many months."

Jack glared at him, but hesitated, appearing to turn his words over in her mind. Her eyes were sharp as they darted between his, reading whatever it was that she could see in his face. Finally, apparently mollified by whatever she found there, she held out her bare arm.

"Fine. But if this turns out to be a trap—if you're lying to me, Old Man—then there will be no end to the world of hurt I'll bring down on your head." The words were pointed and sharp, their honest threat bold and unapologetic. Anderson smiled at her as he brought up the syringe.

"That's fair. I would expect no less," he said with a chuckle before administering the dose. Shepard watched as he ushered Jack over to the glass tube, and she stepped back to rejoin Garrus.

"What is the point of the shot?" She asked quietly as Jack and Anderson spoke, and Garrus bent down to whisper in her ear.

"It triggers the unplugging, as long as we maintain a connection between the Citadel and the Normandy. In truth, it's nothing but some lines of code, but this is the only way we're able to hack into the protections surrounding those still plugged in."

There was a scream of rage from across the room, and they both looked up to see Jack smashing her hands against the glass, the first trickles of water inching up her boots. Shepard turned away, her stomach churning as she tasted bile.

"The water… It eases the transition. Without it, many people go into shock when they awaken in the farm. The process is absolutely horrible, I know. But it's worth it in the end. Fewer die this way." Garrus' voice churned with a mixture of disgust and sadness, as he, too, looked away.

Shepard glanced down his arm, her eyes trailing down to his three fingered hand. Closing her eyes, she could vividly remember the outline of it pressed up against the glass of her tank as panic had welled up within her. At the time, it had only made her angrier, but when she looked back on it now, she recognized the gesture for what it had been.

"Thanks," she whispered as she looked back up at him, and he smiled as his head tilted to the side with a hint of concern.

"Yeah, of course," he mused, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. An amused smile spread across her own face, but she was interrupted by Jacob calling out across the room.

"We have confirmation. The unplugging was successful."

"Okay." Anderson strode around the table to the main console. "Everyone, log off and get into position. I want Miranda and Garrus in the shuttle with me." He began to type before adding, "Let's move, people. The clock is ticking." And a moment later, he vanished in a swirl of pixels.

Shepard leaned against a crate in the shuttle bay, waiting anxiously alongside Vega and Jenkins as she watched Tali's helmeted head peer down every few minutes from the window on the engineering level above. Vega leaned back against a crate nearby, his fingers tapping out a staccato rhythm against his tightly muscled arm as Jenkins paced a small line nearby.

The usual sounds of the ragged old ship's air systems were eerily silent as they idled in almost complete darkness. Nothing but deep red emergency lighting gave off light, leaving only just enough to see by. The menagerie of various clanking, hissing, and sparking sounds were gone, replaced with the thudding of Shepard's own heart, the pulse of her blood, and the tapping of Jenkin's boots.

The Normandy was in low-power mode as they hid within the gloom of the Moon's dark side, Earth looming just out of sight. Somewhere between them and the blue planet, their battered shuttle raced to bring Anderson and his small team to safety, their new crewmate having been successfully secured. Until then, all they could do was pray they remained off the Reaper's scans. But Joker was an old hand at this, having rescued more minds than he could number. Shepard tried to find comfort in the cynical pilot's flippant confidence, but it was hard.

"Stand back, shuttle ETA in one minute. Preparing to open shuttle bay doors." Joker's tinny voice crackled through the small radio at Vega's belt, the ship's intercom system being down with all the other nonessential systems. Shepard shivered as she rubbed her arms, her extra sweater doing little to keep her warm. Not for the first time that day, she wished heating was considered essential.

After a moment, there was a hiss and a shudder, and the giant doors at the end of the shuttle bay inched open. Shepard watched in awe as the surface of the Earth's moon came into view, dark and desolate and vast. For half a second, she expected the Normandy's air to go rushing through the open space, violently venting them all out with it. But miraculously, nothing happened, the air remaining within the Normandy despite the near total vacuum outside on the Moon's surface.

"How…?" she began to ask, but Vega's attention immediately snapped to the object quickly approaching through the darkness. Shepard watched as the shuttle came into view, its hulking form swooping into the shuttle bay before lowering down into the designated grooves that were its home. The large door began closing the moment it touched down, and the sound of the Normandy's engines igniting broke the quiet with a roar.

The shuttle's door slid open, and her eyes went wide as they landed on the blanket wrapped figure on the floor. Jack lay there, bald in a way utterly different from when she'd seen her earlier that day within the Citadel. This body had never felt the scrape of a razor because it had never yet grown hair.

Vega grabbed up the stretcher and together they brought it over to lay beside Jack's prone form. Garrus and Miranda helped as they moved her across and onto it, and as the blanket shifted, it revealed enough of Jack's naked skin to confirm the complete lack of tattoos, the skin pale and blank. Shepard reached up to pull the blanket back over her again, the sight unsettling and odd despite her brief acquaintance with the other woman.

"Okay, let's get her up to the med bay," Miranda stated, her voice firm and detached like usual, and Shepard moved to one end of the stretcher as Vega moved to the other. Together, they stood in unison and made their way to the small cargo lift. Loading her up, they closed the door and hit the button before starting up the ladder.

"We've cleared red level Reaper controlled space." Joker's voice broke over the intercom system as they climbed up onto the Crew Deck and made for the cargo lift. "Making the jump to FTL in 3, 2, 1-" They shifted Jack back onto the stretcher, and Shepard felt a tightness loosen between her shoulder blades. The thought of being so close to those colossal monsters called Reapers had been a nightmare for her nerves, whatever Joker had said in reassurance. Knowing they'd safely be beyond Reaper territory soon was a relief.

Together, she and Vega maneuvered the stretcher through the med bay door and over to the cot Shepard remembered waking from months before. Garrus and Miranda were already there, ready to help as they got Jack into position. Once she was transferred, Miranda began working as she attached sensors and ran tests. Shepard and Vega stepped back as Garrus assisted, handing her various tools when asked.

"So, this is part of the usual process? This is what happened to me after you guys unplugged me?" she whispered as they watched, and Vega nodded.

"Yep, pretty much. First, we need to make sure there were no major issues with the process. Once we're sure she's stable, then we begin the process of helping her body adjust to the outside world. It's not as safe, soft, cushy out here." Vega snorted before gesturing to where Miranda was inspecting Jack's various ports along her arms and legs. "Despite having been integrated into our physiology since before our 'birth', the ports are not technically part of our bodies. They require adjustments, and then we have to make sure they don't become infected while they heal."

"I had no idea," Shepard mused as Miranda grabbed a clipboard and began taking notes.

"Our immune system in general is fairly weak after unplugging. The Reapers control our environment while we're in our pods, so we have various therapies to help jump start it. It's slightly more tricky with quarians, though."

"Really? Why?" Shepard turned to look at Vega again as he sighed.

"We're still not entirely sure, but we think there was some sort of issue when the Reapers first harvested them from their home world. Their immune systems work differently, and their bodies weren't a good match for the systems already in place. As a result, a good deal of modifications were necessary for the Reapers to successfully farm them, hence the suits. Technically, the suits they wear the Citadel are nothing more than a set of code arrays that are necessary to keep quarians alive within the simulated world."

"I'm not sure I understand." Shepard's brows furrowed, and Vega chuckled.

"Yeah, me neither. Like I said, no one really understands it. It's mostly just theories at this point."

"I see." She didn't really, but she was tired and hungry. "I'm going to grab some dinner."

"Sure thing, I'm starving. Cold slop is inedible, so I never eat until the heating systems are back online." Vega turned to leave the med bay, but Shepard paused to look back one last time at the small, skinny woman laying on the bed. She forced away the image of herself laying there, naked and vulnerable as people poked and prodded her sleeping form. Shivering, she stepped through the door, closing it with a clang behind herself.

The lights of the Normandy were low as Garrus climbed up onto the crew deck, the night shift having begun at least an hour before. He adjusted the bottle of clear liquid under his arm and glanced around furtively for any sign of Anderson or Miranda. Quietly, he crept forward, glancing into the empty mess hall and the darkened med bay beyond the window before hurrying forward toward the port side observation deck.

The door swung open, and he poked his head inside, his mandibles flicking with relief as he noted the sole occupant.

"Hey," Garrus stepped into the room, and Sidonis looked up from the book he was reading, "would you like some company?" He held up the bottle, and the other turian's mandibles flared in a grin.

"Hard to say no when you come bearing a… What do the humans call it? An olive stick?" Sidonis cocked his head in confusion, and Garrus snorted as he fell down onto the couch beside him.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Sidonis chuckled before gesturing to him for the bottle. "It's Joker's latest batch. Tastes like piss and probably would work to degrease the main canon rollouts, but damn if it doesn't get you drunk fast."

"Ooofff," Sidonis winced as he popped the top and sniffed the home brewed liquor, "smells like a rough night." He took a small sip before shuddering. "Damn, that's strong."

"Right?" Garrus held his hand out for the bottle and took a swig before settling back into the couch, holding it back out to Sidonis. "So. We need to talk."

Sidonis sighed before taking a long draft of the harsh liquid. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his mandibles held close up against his face. "Do we really need to have this conversation?"

"Look, I'm worried about you." Garrus turned to look at his friend, his concern echoing in his subvocals. "You haven't been yourself. You haven't been in a long time." Sidonis slouched in his seat and leaned his head back as he looked up at the ceiling. His hands came up to press against his eyes, and for a moment, he looked so unbelievably tired.

"Yeah, I know. I haven't felt like myself in a while. Not since… Not since everything happened with the Gabriel."

"I know what you mean." Garrus nodded as he took a sip of the drink, savoring the burn as it slid down his throat. He looked up as Sidonis snorted.

"Yeah, sure." The other man looked away, and Garrus furrowed his brows, apprehension building as he recognized his sarcastic tone of voice. Before he could consider his response, Sidonis turned back to look at him. "You haven't seemed to have any problem making yourself right at home here."

"Sidonis," Garrus tried to keep the admonishment from his voice, "we've been a part of Anderson's crew for years. Everything that happened with the Gabriel, that was ages ago." Sidonis sat up as he shot him a sharp glare.

"Yeah, I'm aware, Garrus. Thanks for stating the obvious," he snapped, and Garrus took a breath as he reminded himself that he was there to mend the bridge, not burn it.

"I'm just trying to say that at some point, you're going to need to leave what happened in the past and move on."

"If you came here just to lecture me, then you can go fuck yourself," Sidonis grumbled before taking a swig from the bottle and shoving it back into Garrus' hands.

Garrus sighed as he brought a hand up to rub his eyes in frustration. "That's not why I'm here. You're my friend and I'm worried about you."

"Well, you've had a funny way of showing it," Sidonis spat as he crossed his arms, and Garrus stared at him in frustrated consternation.

"Then why the hell am I here with a peace offering?" He asked as he waved the bottle, the moonshine sloshing dangerously, and Sidonis seemed to wilt as he looked back at him.

"I know." He paused and sighed. "You're right. I'm sorry. I don't know why I've been so on edge lately." He uncrossed his arms, his palms falling open as he gazed down at them in his lap. "I've just been… miserable. I've been fucking miserable, Garrus. I hate it here. I hate this ship, I hate this life, I hate this reality." The scorn and vitriol in his subvocals were matched only by the heartbreak, and Garrus' chest ached for his friend. His hand came up to rub Sidnois' back in small circles for a few moments.

"I had no idea you were struggling this badly. Maybe we can talk to Anderson about getting you some extended shore leave on the Fleet, get you some therapy and help." He suggested gently and breathed in relief when Sidonis sighed and nodded his head glumly. Guilt ate at Garrus as he took in the other man's forlorn expression as he continued to stare blankly down at his own hands. "I'm sorry it took me this long to see you were struggling. I should have checked in with you sooner. I've been really busy."

"Yeah. I've noticed," Sidonis muttered darkly as he stiffened and looked away. "You haven't had the time of day for me ever since she joined the crew."

Silence fell between them like a wall of ice, and Garrus drew back. "Let's leave Shepard out of this." His words were firm, but Sidonis continued on heedlessly.

"No, let's not. I see the way you look at her. I'm not fucking blind. The whole goddamn ship probably sees how you trail after her like a lovesick puppy. And don't even get me started on your subvocals whenever you talk about her. It's sickening."

"Enough." Garrus sat up, his back stiff as anger and embarrassment began boiling in his core. Sidonis stood abruptly as he turned to sneer down at him.

"What the fuck do you even see in her?" He threw his arms out wide as his voice began to rise. "She's just using you, Garrus! She's using all of us! I don't understand how you could let your dick distract you from how obviously suspicious she is!"

"Enough, Sidonis!" Garrus snapped, his expression hardening. But to his consternation, the other man ignored him as he continued.

"She's so obviously with Cerberus! It explains everything! She's sold us all out, and it's only a matter of time until we're all dead. It's going to be the Gabriel all over again!"

"Enough!" Garrus slammed the bottle down on the side table before surging to his feet. He stood toe to toe with Sidonis, using every bit of his height advantage to look down at the other man as fury rolled off him. "Don't you dare talk about her like that."

They glared at each other, both breathing hard as they refused to back down. Finally, Sidonis' eyes narrowed.

"Pathetic. I can't believe you let a woman reduce you to this," he hissed, and Garrus' mandibles twitched as he balled his hands into fists.

"You have no idea what you're talking about. Shepard isn't a traitor."

"Keep telling yourself that. Right up until you feel the knife slip in between your back plates." The quiet words seemed to reverberate through the room. Without another word, Sidonis turned and walked through the door, slamming it with a clang behind him. Garrus remained where he was as he willed his heart to stop racing, his pulse thrumming beneath his plates as Sidonis' words echoed in his ears.

Finally, he fell back onto the couch. Slowly, his gaze landed on the bottle, its clear liquid catching the flicker of an old light on the ceiling above. Cursing, he reached for it before tipping it back, praying the burn could quiet the wriggling doubts in his chest.

Shepard watched with more than a little queasy unease over the following weeks as Miranda lead the efforts to revitalize Jack's body following her unplugging. She hadn't realized how much work had gone into her own unplugging and stabilization, but apparently the work being done on Jack was standard for everyone.

Time passed in its usual rhythm, but every time Shepard passed by the med bay, she caught herself peering through the windows at the small figure laying on one of the beds. Every day, she grew a little less pale, and her stubble on her head grew slightly longer. Reaching up, Shepard pulled off her hat and ran her fingers through her own shaggy hair, now having accumulated months worth of growth since she'd laid in that very bed.

"When is she going to wake up?"

"Usually they keep them sedated until their body is ready for them to move around and their immune system has been prepared. But I think the plan is to keep Jack under until we get to the Fleet." Garrus murmured from where he stood at her shoulder, his arms crossed as he looked down at Jack's sleeping form and the delicate tube that protruded from one arm port. "The chances that she'll have a rough time after waking are significant." They remained there, watching in silence, side by side. When Shepard finally looked back up at Garrus, she found him gazing down at her instead, a strange look she didn't recognize on his face.

"What?" she asked, raising a single brow in question, and he blinked as he came back to himself. He quickly looked away, something almost resembling guilt replacing the emotion on his face.

"Nothing. I, er… how about we do a little sparring before bedtime?" He asked quickly, and a grin spread across Shepard's face as anticipation sparked in her gut.

"You're on."

When they finally stumbled from the sim pods some hours later, Shepard was sweaty, sore, and exhausted. She relished the feeling, savoring the promise of good sleep well earned. She also felt no little satisfaction at having bested Garrus at least half the matches.

As they passed through the empty mess hall, Shepard tossed a quick glance through the small med bay window and froze. Jack's eyes remained closed, but her head tossed from side to side slowly as her fingers clenched and unclenched. Her eyelashes fluttered.

"Garrus," she called out, and he came to a stop as he looked back at her, "I think Jack is waking up." He hurried back to her and gazed through the window for a moment.

"Shit." He turned and beelined toward the barracks before spinning the wheel and wrenching the door open and running through. A moment later, a half dressed and cursing Miranda was sprinting toward the med bay as she struggled to tie her hair up haphazardly.

"Both of you, with me. I might need extra hands," she called out as Garrus opened the med bay door and Shepard followed them both into the dimly lit room.

Before them, Jack was shakily sitting up on her bed as she blinked and looked around.

"Where the hell am I?" Her words were slurred from sleep, her voice cracked with disuse, and she staggered as she tried to throw her legs over the side of the bed.

"Jack. I want you to remain still," Miranda stated with forced calm as she took a single step toward her as though approaching a rabid animal. "This is the UCS Normandy." She took one more careful step as she glanced at a nearby table and the tools arrayed there. Shepard noticed a bottle and syringe and understood. "We're not here to hurt you. I just want to check your vitals."

"Who…" Jack began before lifting her arm up and freezing as her eyes landed on the blank skin there. "What the-" She shoved back her sleeve and stared at her arm, void of any color or design. Her eyes went wide as her other hand came up and her eyes continued their search for tattoos and scars that were no longer there. "What the fuck is going on?" Her voice raised in pitch to nearly a screech as her eyes continued to widen.

"Breathe, Jack," Miranda commanded in an attempt to soothe her, but her words failed to penetrate the rising panic in Jack's eyes as she pulled up her shirt to expose the untouched skin of her pale belly. Her shaking hands rose to run over the stubble across her scalp before landing on the large port at the back of her head.

Shepard winced as Jack let loose a sudden, blood-curdling scream, the sound reverberating in her head and echoing through her chest. In an instant, Jack ripped the IV line from her arm port and turned to them with terror induced fury in her eyes, her lips curled back in a snarl.

"Shepard! Garrus! Hold her down!" Miranda hurried forward, but drew back as Jack lurched forward off the bed and flung her arm out, knocking over the table of tools.

They both darted around Miranda and reached for Jack, but the smaller woman proved hard to pin as she struggled with surprising strength and intensity. She screamed again in rage and confusion, her breathing coming hard and fast as she bared her teeth at them.

Shepard dodged fists and feet as she attempted to grab Jack as she flailed violently, her screams becoming more and more panicked, sometimes wordless roars of fear and anger, sometimes strings of meaningless obscenities. Shepard grunted as she took a hit to the jaw, muttering her own curses as she struggled to get a grip on one of the thrashing limbs.

Finally, Garrus managed to secure a grip on Jack's wrist before forcing her down onto the ground. Shepard lept on her, pinning her other arm as Miranda stood up nearby, the bottle and syringe in hand.

Checking it carefully, she pressed up on the plunger, causing a single bead of liquid to dribble down the needle. "Hold her still," she stated grimly as she turned to look down at the struggling woman with cold and detatched determination.

"Easier said than done," Garrus grunted as Jack snarled and attempted to buck out of their grip. Her breath was coming out in panicked huffs, her eyes rolling like a wild beast, and Shepard bit back the sudden wave of pity and guilt that welled up. She knew this was for the best, seeing the Fleet was full of medical professionals better qualified for situations like this, but it also seemed so unbearably cruel.

As Miranda reached down for Jack's arm and positioned the needle at one of her smaller ports, Shepard couldn't help the strange spark of understanding she suddenly felt for some of the people that fell into Cerberus' influence. While no part of her regretted being unplugged from the Citadel, she could understand why some might feel some sort of betrayal after waking up to an unkind and harsh reality.

How much of this would Jack remember? Would she blame them for what she was currently going through? With a sinking feeling, she couldn't help the cascade of questions rushing through her head.

Was this how Cerberus members were created? Through the trauma of waking up to a cruel, harsh reality after leaving behind the bliss of ignorance? The growing dread in her chest was tempered by the sudden thought that Vega, too, had suffered an episode something like this, or so she suspected. And he seemed fairly well adjusted, for the most part.

Shepard looked down as Jack's thrashing began to weaken, her eyes beginning to grow foggy and heavy as tears leaked down her cheeks. Finally, she sagged as the medication overpowered her, and Shepard and Garrus released her.

"Thank you, both of you." Miranda sighed as she stood, brushing a stray lock of hair out of her eyes, sweat still clinging to her forehead. "I apologize, neither of you should have needed to go through that."

"It's fine. It happens. Glad we were able to help," Garrus muttered as they stood. Together, they lifted Jack's limp body back up onto the bed. Then, they began the silent work of picking up the tools strewn about when the table had hit the floor, the clinking metal instruments and the creaks and groans of the old ship the only sounds in the room.

"Do you need anything else?" Shepard finally asked as she dusted off her hands and turned to Miranda, who sighed.

"No. Thank you for your help. I appreciate your quick action. This could have been a lot worse," she murmured as she reached back to fix her hair, locks of which had fallen loose and hung around her tired, drawn face. Shepard had always known that Miranda worked hard, serving as both the ship's doctor and executive officer. But only then did it really sink in how much responsibility sat upon the other woman's shoulders.

"Of course," Shepard said, unsure how to put her newfound respect into words. She wanted to say something else, to acknowledge Miranda's dedication to the ship and its crew, but stopped herself as she stifled a yawn.

"You should both go get some rest," Miranda said gently with a small, crooked smile. "I'll update Anderson and then try to figure out how she woke up. The goddamn IV pump might just be acting up again." She sighed before shaking her head, her lip curling as she looked back at Jack. "But we'll be docking with the Migrant Fleet sometime in the next few days or so, so pretty soon she'll be someone else's problem." And with that, Miranda turned and strode out of the room.

"Aaaand there's the ice queen I remember," Shepard snorted before turning to watch Garrus roll his eyes, a half smile on his face.

"Come on, let's get cleaned up." Together they made their way to the bathroom, and as Shepard held her cupped hands beneath the flow of water in the sink, a thought occurred to her.

"Hey, Garrus…" She brought the water up to splash over her face before reaching for a towel. "Why did she say we'd be reaching the Fleet in 'the next few days or so'? As the XO, shouldn't she know our exact ETA, like with other destinations?"

"No, she's not allowed to. No one is. Only ship captains are given the Fleet's exact current coordinates. It's for the safety of the Fleet. It makes it harder for Cerberus to leak their location to the Reapers and helps prevent attacks," he explained as he toweled himself off. "Not that it prevents attacks altogether. Even with all the secrecy, the Reapers still discover their location every few months and send attacks."

"Seriously?" Shepard turned to look at him with surprise, and he nodded. "How do they survive an attack by the Reapers? Surely they don't fight them off. The Reapers seem so…" She trailed off as the memory of her first glimpse of them in the simulator flooded her thoughts.

"Huge? Monstrous? Unbeatable?" Garrus supplied, his voice dry. "Yeah. The moment the Fleet's outlying scouts detect Reaper attack forces, they send the signal to retreat. The Council has some sort of method for disseminating the new coordinates to every ship captain instantaneously, and after a set count down, every ship makes the jump to FTL in unison. Then they regroup at the new location. No one other than the captains is told exactly where that is."

"Huh." Shepard nodded in understanding before tossing her used towel in the bathroom's laundry hamper. "So Anderson is the only one who knows where we're going and exactly when we'll get there?"

"Exactly." Garrus added his towel to the pile before moving to hold the door open for her. "Since it's not a scheduled shore leave, I doubt we'll be staying for very long. But," he looked away and brought a hand up to rub the back of his neck, "if you want, we might have enough to check out some of the markets. If you want to, that is." He looked back at her, and she brightened with curiosity at the prospect. She'd heard stories of the Fleet from the others, but she was sure nothing could compare to seeing it with her own eyes. It felt oddly like returning to a home country she'd never been to before.

"Sure, that'd be great." They began walking toward the barracks, side by side. "I'm looking forward to it." She turned to smile at him, and a blue flush inched up his neck as he looked away again.

"Uh, yeah. Me, too." They stopped before the door and he reached for it before pausing and turning back to look at her. Once again, the curious expression she couldn't identify crossed his face as their eyes locked. For a moment, it looked as though he might open his mouth to say something, but instead he shook his head and opened the door. "Good night, Shepard," he whispered before stepping into the room. Shepard stood there, her brows furrowed in confusion before finally following after.

"Good night, Garrus."

(AN: I hope you are enjoying the story so far, I would love to hear from you if you are!)