Chapter Text
Shepard blinked slowly, peeling her eyes open. She felt achy all over, and it seemed like her eyes had been glued shut. The lights above her were dimmed, but she squinted against them all the same. Moving her head as slowly as possible, she scanned her surroundings; she was in the medbay of her ship. She sighed in relief that she had made it back on board the Normandy before she’d lost consciousness. Things could have been very bad for her if she hadn’t. A stern face appeared above her, framed by a bob of steel grey hair. Concerned eyes looked her over, and a scanner was passed over her.
“Commander, good to see you awake.” Doctor Chakwas intoned. “You’ve been unconscious for nearly fourteen hours… it seems you went through quite the ordeal.” Shepard grunted… ordeal was putting it mildly. She’d been knocked out, nearly killed, blown up, and then had scrambled around the surface of an asteroid being hurtled toward an active mass relay. She’d had better days.
“I’m fine, doctor.” She grumbled, trying to sit up slowly. Doctor Chakwas slid her hands under Shepard’s arms, helping her into a seated position on the bed. Smiling a bit now, Shepard thanked the doctor for her assistance and stretched her arms and neck out. Movement at the door of the medbay caught her eye and her eyebrows shot up toward her hairline when she saw who had just entered.
“Admiral Hackett…” Shepard said, scrambling to get herself upright and into a sharp salute.
“Relax, commander.” Hackett said in his gravelly voice. “I understand your surprise, but you went on that mission as a personal favor to me. It’s only right that I debrief you in person…” He sighed, shaking his head and staring hard at Shepard.
“That was before you utterly destroyed the Alpha Relay, taking the lives of over 300,000 batarians along with it. What the hell happened, commander? ” Shepard winced. So many dead… it didn’t even make a difference that they were batarian. They still didn’t deserve what they got. Taking a deep breath, Shepard steeled herself for the conversation.
“Have you gotten any intel on what happened?” She asked preemptively. Hackett shook his head.
“All I know is that I sent you into that prison to liberate my friend, and now hundreds of thousands of people are dead. Help me with that leap of logic, Shepard.”
“Okay… I did get Kenson out of that prison. I verified her evidence, too. She was right, the Reapers were coming. When she showed me her project, it became clear that we were literally days away from the start of their invasion. They were going to use the Alpha Relay to travel into every corner of the galaxy. It was their shortcut to the rest of us. So, I did the only thing I could do and I activated the project. I sent that rock into the mass relay and destroyed it.” Shepard took a deep breath, squeezing her eyes shut.
“I… I tried to warn Aratoht. I tried to get them to evacuate in time. But Kenson stopped me- blocked the message... her and her entire team had been indoctrinated by the artifact that had told them about the Reapers’ arrival.” Hackett stared at the commander, sadness warring with professionalism for control over his face.
“Look, commander. I don’t need proof or a report to know you did the right thing… but 300,000 sentient beings died today, by your actions. No matter how necessary. The batarians are out for blood, and there’s just enough evidence for a witch hunt. I’m on your side here, but you’re going to have to face the music. We can't afford a war with the Hegemony when when Reapers are breathing down our necks.” Shepard looked up at Hackett, understanding written across her features.
“Do what you need to do out here…” Hackett continued, turning to leave the medbay, “but when Earth calls, you need to be there with your blues on… ready to take the hit.” He was already out of the room, but Shepard still saluted his words. She had a duty, and she valued her honor. She’d turn herself in just as soon as she made sure her crew would be safely on their way home. They had work to do.
Omega was still dirty. It always would be, Shepard figured. It was, ironically, the safest place for all of them right now though. They’d reached Omega shortly after Hackett had disembarked, and the commander was seeing to it that each member of her crew had a place to go, a plan and the means to get started. Tali hitched a ride with a young quarian on their pilgrimage; Legion had to be smuggled offworld in a crate. It was easier for the rest. Grunt was to make his way to Tuchanka, Garrus to Palaven, and Thane meant to go stay with his son on the Citadel. Mordin had business on Omega for a while; he meant to check in on his old clinic and lend a hand there for a while before finding a new direction. Zaeed and Kasumi both melted into the crowds, barely taking the time to say goodbye. That left Jack, Jacob and Miranda.
Miranda had confided that the Illusive Man was likely to be after her and Jacob for some time. They meant to go their separate ways and lay low for a few months. Jack was her own woman; she didn’t have a plan and didn’t intend to… she’d just go with her gut. Surprisingly, she was the one Shepard was least worried about. Jack could take care of herself. Having said goodbye to the last of the crew, Shepard returned to the Normandy. Only a few of the support crew remained; Joker and Chakwas intended to return to Earth with Shepard, and Ken and Gaby were planning to turn themselves over to the Alliance along with their ship. They hoped their cooperation would gain them a measure of clemency. Shepard was the only one who knew for sure she’d likely be leaving the Normandy in chains.
“Joker, set a course for Earth…” She said, laying a hand on the shoulder of her helmsman and best friend. “It’s time to return to our roots.”
Joker glanced up at her, face unreadable.
“For the record, Shepard, I think you’re making a huge mistake. Do you really think the Alliance is going to change their tune now? No way they’ll believe us about the Reapers, and then you’ll be locked up and we’ll all be screwed when they invade.”
Shepard sighed, shaking her head.
“Joker, I know they probably won’t listen. Trust me, I don’t have any illusions about that. I’ve got to do the right thing, though… even if it means losing my career and my life.” Joker frowned at her, but nodded. He knew her too well to try to push her further.
“Setting a course for Earth…”
Shepard reached up to straighten her collar, looking at herself in the mirror. It had been a while since she'd had reason to wear her dress blues, but they still fit her perfectly. She wondered if this was going to be the last time she'd be in uniform. Soon, she might be court-martialed and locked up for the rest of her life. She might never see Joker or the Normandy again. She didn't even think she'd get to talk to Joker once she turned herself in. Her communication would probably be cut off entirely. A sigh escaped her as she twisted her long red hair up into a tight bun at the nape of her neck. Time to "face the music", as Hackett had put it. She left her cabin, taking one last long look over her shoulder before entering the elevator and hitting the key for the command deck. Too quickly, the doors opened back up and she was staring at the galaxy map, the bridge just on the other side. Rolling her shoulders and lifting her chin, she walked purposefully down the length of the deck and came up next to Joker.
Staring out of the windows in front of them, she saw that he was bringing the Normandy into dock at Alliance HQ. It was time. As she felt the gentle rumble of the Normandy settling into its berth, she set her hand on Joker’s shoulder gently. He looked up at her, concern creasing his face.
"You're sure you want to do this, Annie?" He asked, using her old nickname. "It's not too late, I can get us out of here." Shepard shook her head, smiling wanly down at her friend.
"I killed 300,000 people, Joker." She said with resignation. "I need to answer for what I've done." Joker frowned at her, huffing an exasperated sigh. With creaky movements, he hauled himself out of the pilot's chair, sweeping Shepard into a tight hug.
"Just promise me you won't give up, Annie." He whispered in her ear. "I'm counting on you fighting for yourself on this, cause there isn't a damn thing I can do." Leaning back a bit, Shepard planted a sisterly kiss on Joker's cheek.
"I promise. If I can help it, I'll be back. We'll fight the Reapers together." Glancing over at the blue projection beside them, she waved a hand at Edi.
"Edi, you take care of my friend and my ship okay? I'm counting on you." The AI's voice came over the comm system with a grim determination.
"I will, commander. Be careful."
Shepard took a steadying breath, releasing her hold on Joker and stepping back. She smiled softly at him, and then turned toward the airlock and made her way outside. As the airlock depressurized and the doors lifted, Shepard raised her hands in front of her and stepped out into the bright light of the sun. Vancouver smelled faintly of evergreen and soil, and she realized it had been too long since she'd been to her home planet. She made eye contact immediately with a contingency of guards headed by Hackett himself. He nodded to her, and she lowered her hands after a salute.
"Admiral. As ordered, I'm here to surrender myself to the Alliance for my actions. I am unarmed. The remaining members of my crew are also prepared to surrender themselves to the proper authorities. Flight Lieutenant Moreau was operating under my orders alone and had nothing to do with the events that took place regarding the Alpha Relay."
Hackett nodded at her again, and a pair of Alliance soldiers moved toward her. She stopped, and lifted her arms as she saw one of them bring out a pair of omni-cuffs. She didn't think they were necessary, but she supposed they were part of the procedure. The remaining guards made their way onto the Normandy as the first two led Shepard away, with Hackett in the lead.
Hackett took Shepard and her guards into a secluded wing of the headquarters building. They moved down a series of clean hallways and past numerous doors before finally stopping in front of a door with a security lock recently installed on the frame. Hackett keyed a code into the door and it swung open, admitting them into a small but clean living room. A kitchenette sat in one corner, with a single window high up on the wall to admit sunlight. Scanning the room, Shepard took note of the small table and chairs, and the Alliance logo painted on the wall. There was no television, no holo, no terminal. To her left she saw a hallway with three doors.
"Gentleman, you can remove those cuffs. They aren't necessary here." One of the guards nodded, releasing the cuffs from Shepard's wrists. She flexed her now freed hands, thanking the guard. Hackett gestured for her to follow him into the apartment.
"Down the hall is the restroom and two bedrooms. You can take your pick of which one, though they're identical. Staff will stock the fridge with rations for you on a weekly basis, and also collect laundry and recycling on a regular basis. You will need to turn in your omni-tool to me, as you will not be allowed any outside communication."
Shepard nodded grimly, disengaging her omni-tool from her wrist and handing it to Hackett. He nodded at her, and turned to leave the apartment.
"I'll let you get settled, Commander. When we have more to brief you on, someone will come collect you. You'll find some books in the bedrooms; old-fashioned, I know, but I figured you'd like something to do." Shepard smiled at the man, nodding her head.
"Thank you, Admiral. I appreciate the gesture." Without further acknowledgement, Hackett left the apartment tailed by the two guards. Shepard heard the security lock click into place, and she was left in silence. Alone, and locked in. Shepard settled onto a chair by the table, and found herself hoping desperately that she had made the right choice.
Shepard could never sit idle for long. She had no belongings, but she wandered through the apartment to explore anyway. In the farthest bedroom she found the books Hackett had referred to, as well as several pairs of plain casual clothing and undergarments in exactly her size. In the bathroom was the standard issue soaps, and a pair of utilitarian bath towels. The sink held a single metal cup, flanked by a toothbrush and toothpaste.
There was even a hairbrush and a selection of elastics behind the mirror. He really thought of everything… she mused, impressed. At least she wouldn't have to beg for what she needed for basic hygiene. Next she inspected the contents of the kitchenette. Two plates, two sets of silverware (as if she'd ever be allowed visitors…) and two ceramic mugs sat in the sparse cabinet. The small refrigeration unit contained cold cuts of meat, whole wheat bread, cheese, and some assorted cut fruits and vegetables. Out loud, she mused to herself:
"I'm shocked they even let me have silverware… what if I decide to fight my way out of HQ with the fork?" Chuckling dryly to herself, she planted herself back in the chair at the table. She stared down at her scarred hands for a few moments before standing back up and going back into the bedroom. The books lined up on the wall were Earth classics mostly, and some accounts of recent wars. She selected a first hand account of the First Contact War off the shelf, and threw herself onto the bed to read. After some hours she nodded off still clothed, drifting into a mercifully dreamless sleep.
The next few days passed in a mindless haze. If it weren't for the clock on the wall, Shepard wasn't sure she'd even have been able to mark the passage of time. As it was, she convinced Hackett to give her a calendar that she could use to keep track of the days. Like everything else, it was old fashioned. Nobody would risk giving her a single piece of tech. She supposed she was lucky they didn't try to confiscate the cybernetics that held her spine together.
She huffed, frustrated with herself. There wasn't any point in thinking like that… the negativity wasn't productive at all. She turned her book over, setting it on the table and pushing the furniture out of the way. Time for her exercises… she intended to stay in shape during her confinement. Lowering herself to the floor, she started with 100 push-ups, followed by an identical set of sit-ups and lunges. She continued the cycle several times, until sweat was running down her face and her arms and legs trembled. Satisfied with the exertion, she stood and stretched, making her way to the bathroom for a shower.
At least the showers were hot; she hadn't tested the limits of the hot water, though. She was a Marine, and Marines never took a shower longer than the regulation five minutes. Clean and pink from scrubbing, she stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a towel. Across the hall, she tossed the towel across the bed and climbed into the clean set of clothing she'd laid out for herself.
She hummed to fill the silence as she braided her long hair in a single plait down her back. Her fingers froze when she heard a noise in the common area. Moving with silence and precision, she posted up on the wall beside the door and carefully peered around the corner. She held her breath and snapped her head back inside the room when she saw the gun. Shit… she thought to herself. Shit, shit, shit. No weapon, no omni-tool. No way to call for help. She was unarmed, and someone with a gun was in the apartment. She had no doubt what they were there for. She took a steadying breath, mind racing as she tried to come up with a plan. Glancing around, she took note of the metal coat hangers in the closet. Better than nothing.
As quietly as possible, she moved across the room and took out an empty hanger. She then crouched on the other side of the bed from the open doorway, and unwound the metal as she waited. It was stiff, but workable. She couldn't help the grin that took over her face for a moment; if she managed to survive this, imagine how people would talk about how she fought off an assailant with a clothes hanger. She wasn't sure anyone would believe it. Maybe Krios, she thought. She was sure he'd taken a life with far less than a thin piece of metal at his disposal.
Shepard closed her eyes, breathing as quietly as possible as she waited for the intruder to come into her room. She wasn't about to seek them out; she had the element of surprise here. She didn't know if they were armored and they had a pistol. She'd bide her time… and she didn't have to wait long. It was mere seconds when she heard footsteps in the hall. They bypassed the first room and the bathroom- they must have seen her go into the bedroom. Perv. She thought, irritated. They'd probably ogled her as she walked across the hall in nothing but a towel. That pissed her off. As the footsteps made their way into her room, she threw herself over the bed and onto the intruder. It was a human male in unmarked clothing, no armor. Perfect, easier to kill… she thought to herself. She grappled with the man, trying to get the pistol out of his grip. She took a hit to the forehead with the grip of the pistol before finally getting it out of his grip. The man staggered back as she took the pistol in her hand and pointed it at him.
"Who sent you?" She growled. The man started to back up, but with a quick roll she put herself between him and the doorway. He was trapped. When he took out a knife, Shepard cocked the pistol and growled at him again.
"Don't even think about it. Drop the knife and tell me who sent you." The man didn't answer, and instead threw the knife with blinding speed. Shepard was quick, but she hadn't expected the move. She dodged the blade, but it nicked her shoulder and she winced as she felt hot blood drip down her arm onto the floor. Then, the man bared his teeth at her and fell to the ground, convulsing. Swearing softly, she walked up to him with the pistol trained on him still. Saliva foamed at the edges of his mouth before he suddenly stilled, his eyes glazed over. He was dead.
Shepard closed her bedroom door, sealing the corpse in. Making her way into the common area she noted that the small window was open; obviously that was how her would-be assailant had gotten in. Walking straight up to the door, she pounded on it and yelled for the guards she was sure had to be in the hallway. She was shocked and a bit irritated that they hadn't reacted to the sounds of conflict in her apartment. After a few minutes, the light inside the door indicating the release of the lock flashed. Shepard took a step back and laid the pistol on the floor, putting her empty hands in the air. The poor guard who walked in was aghast when he saw the pistol on the floor and the blood on Shepard's face and arm.
"Someone broke in." Shepard said simply, gesturing to the window as the guard grabbed up the pistol. "He attacked me in my room and I subdued him, tried to find out who sent him. He had a knife, and cut my shoulder. When I disarmed him and had him cornered, he killed himself. Looked like a cyanide capsule. He's still in my room." The guard stared at Shepard for another moment before tapping the communicator on his ear.
"This is Levitt. Get me a medic and the Admiral down at the commander's rooms, now. Someone just tried to kill her…"
It didn't take more than a few minutes for the medic to come rushing into the apartment. Shepard had sat down heavily on a chair, holding her shoulder tightly. Levitt had stood just inside the door, scanning the room in focused silence as they waited. The medic pushed him out of the way and went straight up to Shepard, pulling her hand from her shoulder and tatting under his breath as he pushed the sleeve of her t-shirt gently away from the cut.
"No stitches needed…" He said to her, "I'll just clean this up and bandage it after applying some medigel."
Shepard nodded, wincing slightly as the medic wiped away the blood with an antiseptic cloth he pulled from a package in his bag. Three bloodied wipes later, he was smoothing a thin layer of gel over the cut and wrapping it in gauze. He gave the same attention to her forehead, though bandage was unnecessary in that case. Levitt had left the doorway as she was being cleaned up, and came out of her bedroom with a clean shirt in his hands.
"Here, commander. You should probably change…" Shepard smiled at him, grateful for the gesture.
"Thank you, Levitt."
She said, standing to take the shirt. She stepped into the bathroom, grateful to get the bloody shirt off. She glanced in the mirror and noted that the medic had done a good job wrapping her arm. The bandages were smooth and unobtrusive once covered by her shirt. She tossed the bloody shirt in the sink and stepped back out of the bathroom. Hackett was standing in the doorway of her bedroom, speaking quietly with Levitt as they both looked down at her assailant.
"Admiral." Shepard said, moving to stand beside him. Hackett glanced over her, eyes taking in the cut on her forehead and the shape of the bandage on her shoulder. His eyes crinkled in a frown as he nodded at her.
"Shepard." He replied, "I feel I must apologize, it's obvious we didn't take nearly enough care with your security. I honestly didn't expect Cerberus to come after you." Shepard stared at him, a faint shock shooting down her spine.
"Is that who sent him?" Hackett nodded firmly.
"We were able to identify him, and he's on a few watch lists for being a vocal pro-human supremacy activist. The rest wasn't hard to figure out… a cyanide capsule is exactly the Illusive Man's style." Shepard nodded; she agreed with him… she hadn't expected this though. She thought cutting ties had been enough… she never expected the Illusive Man to try to kill her for her trouble. She frowned down at the body, which Levitt was enclosing in a body bag for removal.
"Well, he didn't try hard enough. I'm fine. Is it likely he'd try again?" Hackett shrugged, an unceremonious movement for a man like him.
"Your guess is as good as mine, Shepard… we'll place some extra sensors and guards just in case."
A few minutes later, as Shepard sat at her table again, a pair of Marines came in and removed the body. Then a crew came in to clean the mess, remove the knife and her bloodied clothes, and replaced the lock on her door. They installed sensors on the window, as well as a lock. Shepard hoped that would be enough to deter any further attempts on her life. She hadn't been able to convince Hackett to give her omni-tool back, but he'd ordered a panic button to be installed next to her door for emergency use. Hopefully if another emergency occurred she could get to the button. Otherwise, that would be as useful as the metal coat hanger she'd hidden under her mattress. Better safe than dead, she figured. It was better than nothing.
After the events of that day, Levitt was friendlier with Shepard. Whenever he was on guard duty, she could count on him to poke his head into her apartment for a minute of idle conversation. She was grateful to him; having no one to talk to all day was wearing on her. He was professional and polite, but she didn't care how formal the conversation was. At least someone cared enough to ask her how her day was. One day, as she was about to begin her exercises, Levitt knocked on her door and let himself in. He had a smile on his face.
"Levitt, good morning." Shepard said to him with a smile.
"Good morning, Commander." He responded. "I've been ordered to bring you to speak with Admiral Hackett."
Shepard perked up a bit, feeling excited. It was ridiculous, but after nearly a week of not leaving her room she would take anything.
"Great, let's get going!" Shepard responded, standing up. Levitt couldn't hide the smirk that flitted across his face.
"I've never seen anyone so excited to be summoned before the Admiral." Shepard shrugged, grinning.
"Any excuse to stretch my legs and see something besides this apartment, Levitt. I gotta take what I can get."
Nodding, Levitt led the way out of the apartment, locking the door behind them. Two additional guards were flanking the door, and fell in step behind them. He didn't cuff her or restrain her, just walked beside her as they made their way through the building. There was little traffic in this part of the building, but what few people there were stopped to stare at her as she passed them. Shepard tried not to notice their looks.
As they passed into a different part of the HQ building, one side of the hallway became all windows. Glancing at Levitt, Shepard stopped and looked out at the Vancouver skyline.
"It's a beautiful day…" She said wistfully, staring out at the blue sky and sunshine. Levitt came up beside her, smiling and stuffing his hands in his pockets casually.
"The weather's pretty great here, honestly." He said to her, "Winters are cold, but I like the snow." They stood there, side by side at the window for a few moments. Suddenly, Levitt tensed, his eyes squinting. Shepard glanced over at him, and looked back out the window, trying to see what was making him react so. Just as she caught a faint glint on a high rooftop across the way from the building, Levitt shouted.
"Get down, commander!"
He grabbed her shoulder and shoved her to the floor, stepping in front of her. The Marines behind them started forward just as a faint crack sounded and Levitt fell to the floor. Shepard stared down at his face in horror. Between his green eyes was a single hole from a sniper round. He saw it coming, but he'd been dead in an instant. She closed her eyes and placed her hands on his shoulders, staying crouched down. Chances were if she stood up now, the sniper would hazard another shot.
"I'm so sorry, Levitt…" She whispered to him. Reaching up, she closed his eyes gently. "I'm sorry…" people were shouting around her. One of the Marines who'd been guarding her was crouched down beside her, talking to someone on his comm link. The other had his back to the wall, glancing quickly through the window and trying to get a visual on the sniper.
"Commander, we have to get you out of here." The marine beside her grabbed her arm and took off at a run. They sprinted through the halls and deeper into the facility, finally stopping where there were no windows. Shepard was pulled into an elevator and then they were on their way up.
"Where are we going, Marine?" Shepard asked her guard.
"Hackett." He said simply. "His office is one of the securest places here, anyway."
She nodded, pulling her arm out of his grasp and leaning against the wall of the elevator as it shot upward. She took a few deep breaths, closing her eyes against the harsh light of the elevator. She had to calm down… no point in losing it. Levitt was dead. It was her fault… but what was one more life on her ledger, when she was already responsible for over 300,000? Her eyes snapped open as the elevator came to a stop. Tense, she watched the doors open and followed the Marine out. They walked with haste, and she scanned the corridors as they passed through them. If this was Cerberus again, anything was possible… she had to stay alert. The rest of the trip to Hackett's office passed by uneventfully, though, and soon she found herself before the Admiral, body tense and eyes alert. Hackett nodded in dismissal to the marine, ordering him to stand guard outside the office. As soon as the door closed, Hackett pulled out a chair for Shepard, which she collapsed into. Sitting back down across from her, he offered her a glass of water before steepling his fingers under his chin and staring at her. He waited until she had relaxed somewhat and drank down the water before asking her for her account of the events that had transpired.
"Levitt noticed the scope before I did." Shepard said angrily. "I'm getting complacent. I should've been more alert… if I had…" Hackett shook his head firmly, frowning.
"Don't beat yourself up about this, Shepard." He said in a tone that brooked no argument. "Levitt was doing his duty as a marine… you can't take personal responsibility for every on-duty death. If anyone is at fault, it's me. He was under my command and I am the one who ordered him to escort you here."
Shepard sighed, nodding. She knew there was likely nothing she could have done, but she couldn't help the frustrated feeling she had. She was a sitting duck… couldn't protect herself, others were dying to protect her.
"This is a shitshow, Admiral." She said plainly. "Obviously Cerberus isn't done trying to take me down." Hackett nodded in agreement.
"I know, Shepard. We'll have to take additional measures. I'm moving you to a different set of rooms. Sorry, but this one has no windows. We don't want to give Cerberus a way in or a vantage point. You'll still get food deliveries as normal, and I'll have the books moved to your new rooms. We'll have a rotating set of guards on your room at all times but I'll do my best to preserve your privacy."
Shepard nodded, resigned. She supposed shed likely never see the sky again now that Cerberus was sending fucking snipers for her.
"Alright, sir. Whatever needs to happen to keep people safe. I don't want to be the cause of any more collateral damage."
Shepard spent an hour in Hackett's office before the marine from before knocked on the door and came in at Hackett's permission. Her new rooms were ready. Shepard thanked the Admiral for his company, and followed the marine back out and into the elevator. They traveled down several more floors than they'd gone up, and when Shepard stepped out of the elevator she knew they were underground. The silence down here was oppressive.
True to his word, there was no window in sight as they travelled down the hallway. Two more Marines flanked her outside the elevator, and followed them down the hall. It felt like they had been walking in silence for a long time before they finally came to a stop in front of a plain metal door with a freshly installed maglock. The lock was much more high tech than had been on her old door, and there was a scanner for entry rather than a code.
After being let into the room, Shepard stared around her new accommodations. Utilitarian was putting it nicely… there was no kitchenette here, just a utility sink and a single cupboard. An old table with two wooden chairs sat in the middle of the room, rounding out the furnishings for the living area. The narrow hall ended in a bedroom with a twin bed and a nightstand. Her books were piled on the bed, along with her clothes. The bathroom was just as sparse as the rest of the room, with a small toilet and a shower squeezed into the corner. No mirror, no sink. She'd have to brush her teeth at the utility sink. This place really did feel like a prison cell.
Shepard felt as though she was going to go crazy here. The silence was oppressive, and the artificial light felt draining. She tried to stick to a routine, but over the next weeks she felt herself sinking deeper and deeper into her own head. She got tired fast, and started to skip her exercises. Some days, if she tried to read, she would find herself zoning out after only a few lines. Sometimes she just napped between the meals that now had to be delivered to her door. None of the Marines guarding her rooms were talking to her. She didn't know if that was under orders or because they just didn't want to. She wasn't sure which was worse. At least the food was still decent…
Every morning one of her guards brought in a tray with pastries, fruit or protein and a glass of juice. Afternoon shift changes brought a sandwich, and dinners showed up hot and always with a big serving of protein. She might go crazy from the isolation, but she'd never starve. That was something at least. Most of the Marines who delivered her food were strangers, and she could only assume that they were rotated out frequently. She was sure Hackett had his reasons, even if she couldn't see them right now.
Shepard rolled over in her bed, groaning and getting up. She didn't know what time it was, but she had to pee. After relieving herself she saw no point in going back to bed, so she sat down at her tiny table and stared at the door. It was probably less than an hour later that the door pinged an alert and opened, revealing another unfamiliar marine holding a tray.
Breakfast today was some sort of frosted Danish, a few slices of artificial bacon, and a glass of pomegranate juice. Shepard stood and took the tray from the marine. The woman was short and round-faced, her eyes bright blue and focused. With a smile, Shepard thanked the marine and sat down with the tray. She had already started eating by the time she sat down, and didn't notice the strange expression on the other woman's face as she exited.
Shepard forced down the pastry and bacon, swirling the fruit juice around the glass as she sat and thought. Maybe I can convince Hackett to let me write letters… I could write to Joker. She thought, contemplating. It would be better than no contact. I'd she could receive mail as well, it would at least break up the monotony. She'd been in her new prison cell for almost two weeks and the solitude was getting to her.
All she had to keep her company were the nightmares that had started coming more and more frequently. Some days she couldn't even nap without feeling the crush of space as she suffocated over Alchera, or hear the echo of Ash's voice as she faced her fate at the hands of Saren's geth when she had to leave her behind. So many nightmares. She'd endured so much over the years, but she was starting to think getting spaced was preferable to the slow torture of seclusion.
Shaking her head, she took a large gulp of the juice she held. Wrinkling her nose, she glared down at the glass; now even breakfast was turning bitter. She never expected pomegranate juice would taste like that, she thought, it tasted awful. Like something she couldn't quite put her finger on… she chased the thought around for a few moments before the aftertaste became more distinct, right about the time she stopped being able to focus. Her hand wasn't working right… she stared at it as the cup dropped, shattering on the floor.
She stood up from her chair, but the ground came rushing at her and suddenly she was lying on glass shards. Not… right. She thought hazily. She blinked hard, but couldn't make her eyes work. Her legs were still working. She crawled through the broken glass, heedless of the pieces stabbing into her chest, hands and knees. The door was right there. She reached for it. Too far… as if by magic, the door was opening. Her head dropped to the floor. She was so tired. Feet came into her field of vision, followed by a panicked face. Almonds … she thought, as her eyes finally slipped closed.
The last time Shepard had felt as if her entire body was on fire, she’d just come back from the dead. She couldn’t help but wonder if that was the case this time, too. She couldn’t get her eyes open. Her legs wouldn’t work. She hurt so bad that she couldn’t even tell if she was successfully breathing… one thing at a time. She decided the best course was to try just one thing. She moved her index finger. Her trigger finger curled inward and straightened out. Good, again. She repeated the action several times, until it became easier. Then, she made a fist. Rinse, repeat. Both hands. She could feel her breaths now. Her chest, though aching, was rising and falling of its own accord.
Her eyes were next. First one, then the other. Both eyes opened. She wasn’t dead; instead, it seemed that she was in a hospital. She couldn’t remember why. No matter how hard she thought, she couldn’t recall what had happened. She lifted her arms up and inspected her hands. No wonder they felt like they were on fire… her hands were covered in bandages, and blood was seeping through the dressings. Swallowing hard, she put her hands back on the bed and blinked slowly. Some thought or memory was drifting back to her… broken glass. She must have cut her hands on glass.
There had to be more, though. Her chest was burning too. She couldn’t turn her head enough to see much, but with her damaged hands she felt dressings on her chest too. More cuts from glass, maybe? She struggled against the fog that was hindering her thoughts and memory. Something must have happened for her to be cut to ribbons by broken glass. Her eyes scanned the room she was in; she was surrounded by medical equipment and hooked to monitors.
What had happened? She remembered breakfast. The broken glass was from a cup… and something had been wrong with her juice. Almonds. Cyanide... It came to her in a rush, causing her to gasp in panic and try to drag herself up out of the bed. A needle she hadn’t noticed was in her arm clattered to the floor, drops of blood following it. Her legs, of course, gave out the second she put weight on them and she crashed to the floor in a heap, gasping for breath and looking around wildly. Alarms rang out and a doctor in Alliance colors came rushing into the room.
Shepard scrambled back from the doctor, trying valiantly to heave herself back to a standing position but finding that she didn’t have the strength to pick herself up off the floor. The doctor stopped, lifting his hands in the air and speaking to her in a soothing voice.
“Commander, please. You’re safe, I promise. I’m not going to hurt you. Please, just let me help you back into bed.” Shepard stared at the man wildly, shaking her head.
“Don’t you dare come closer.” She hissed at him, eyes wide and dangerous. “Get me Hackett and I’ll believe you.” The doctor slumped and nodded, backing out of the room. She saw him just outside the doorway whispering to someone else. She stayed there on the floor, her back to the wall and barely propped up from a prone position, for several minutes. She heard footsteps outside the room and she tensed again, her instincts screaming for her to fight. When the familiar form of Admiral Hackett entered the room, she instantly relaxed. Rather than stand at the door and talk to her like the doctor had tried to do, he came right up to her and crouched in front of her.
“Admiral, sir…” Shepard whispered, suddenly feeling weary to the bone. “It was Cerberus again, wasn’t it? Poison?” Hackett nodded grimly, extending a hand out to Shepard. She took his hand and let him heave her up until her arm was slung across his shoulder. With the Admiral carrying most of her weight, they made their way back to the rumpled bed and he gently helped her back onto it.
“Shepard, I’m very glad to see that you’re awake.” He said grimly, after she had settled back onto the bed. “We were very worried for a bit there that you wouldn’t make it. You’ve been unconscious for ten days.” He sighed, looking over his shoulder and down at the bloody needle on the floor. “Now, can the doctor please take a look at you? I’ll vouch for him personally. He’s a friend.” Shepard nodded hesitantly, and watched as Hackett walked to the doorway and beckoned. The doctor returned, walking up to her bedside with deliberate movements. Much to her relief, Hackett didn’t leave, but instead stepped back and stood at the edge of the room and watched.
Now able to do his job, the doctor’s movements turned business-like. He collected the needle off the floor and disposed of it before turning his attention to cleaning up her arm and placing a small bandage where the needle had been pulled from under her skin. Gently grasping her wrists, he examined her hands, mumbling discontentedly under his breath. He unwrapped her hands and she winced when she saw the deep cuts that criss-crossed her palms. He glanced up at her sympathetically before slathering her palms in medi-gel and rebandaging them.
“Now please, commander… take care with those hands. Try not to reopen the cuts again.” Shepard looked down and nodded, feeling chagrined. The examination of her wounds continued to the bandages across her chest. At this point Hackett turned and stepped out of the room to grant her privacy. Cuts similar in size and depth to those on her palms spanned across her chest and the tops of her breasts. She hissed quietly as the dressings were peeled back and the cuts washed and redressed. The doctor stood back then, beckoning to Hackett. Turning back to Shepard, he explained the state of affairs.
“I’m afraid you’re going to be left with quite a few scars from this ordeal. There shouldn’t be any nerve damage in your hands or chest, but they will scar and those scars will be sensitive for a while.” He sighed, glancing over at Hackett. “You were poisoned, as you probably recall. Cyanide is brutal stuff and I’m still not quite sure how you survived. Our best guess is that Cerberus did a bit too well with your cybernetics and rebuilding you.” He offered her a lopsided smile. “I suppose you could say that you have the Illusive Man to thank for surviving his most recent attempt on your life.” Shepard huffed a quiet laugh… It was ironic, to say the least. She looked over at Hackett again.
“Did we catch whoever did this?” Hackett nodded hesitantly.
“After a fashion, Shepard. We found the body of the woman who delivered the meal two days after you were poisoned. Her throat was cut. We’ve found no trace of co-conspirators.” Shepard sighed, drooping. She supposed it was too much to ask for a clean conclusion to this. Hackett stepped closer, resting a surprisingly gentle hand on the top of her head in an incredibly fatherly gesture.
“You look tired… get some sleep, Shepard. You’ll need all you can get if you’re going to be back on your feet soon.”
Shepard wasn’t sure if there was any point in that.
“Sir, they almost got me that time… what are my chances that I’ll survive a fourth attempt on my life in this state? I can’t fight, I definitely can’t flee…” She trailed off, having met her point. Hackett stared at her grimly.
“Don’t count yourself out just yet, Shepard. We won’t let Cerberus get you. I know we haven’t succeeded in protecting you much thus far, but I have one more contingency in place. He’ll be here soon, and I for one know he will show you fierce loyalty and will do whatever he can to keep you safe where we’ve failed.” Shepard stared at the man, confused.
“Wait… he… who?”