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[Shepard's been restless all night, most of it's because of nightmares that leave her drenched in cold sweat and disoriented when she wakes. The third time she does so, it's entirely too early after being entirely too early the last time she woke. The video flicks on and the lighting around her is subdued,muted in that vaguely 'trying to let patients rest' sort of way. She's somehow lost her blankets and the first shot that transmits is a flash of red hair and a green eye, then a bare shoulder as she reaches out for the covers she's kicked onto the floor. The communication device joins them and she frowns miserably as she stares down at it and what had been fairly warm covers.]

That's it.

[Her voice is a soft growl that sits between irritated and bored as hell. A flicker of blue, the charging of her biotics, glows bright for a moment as she focuses, and just when it looks like she's got it and is about to release a last ditch pull, it sputters and dies. Her expression went from determined to paler and exhausted.]

Shit. [Reaching out, she tries again, only to have the same thing happen. Her biotics were pretty much offline and, as she sits there staring down with steely determination at the covers and the communicator, she really wants to hit something -- or at least attempt blow this joint..]

I need evac. And my blanket.

[Shepard inched her way to the edge of the bed and slowly lowered herself to her feet. Retaliatory pain lanced through her heels and calves, straight through her hips and up her spine. No more medigel in her omnitool, though her first thought was to call it up. An instant later, she was on her knees, but at least she had her blanket, which she pulled inch by inch toward her. Once she had it, she grimaced and angled a look at the doorway. Maybe she'd just...rest. Five minutes. Yep.]

Mostly evac.

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[It's been a long couple of weeks. Zaeed's been staying off the comms, keeping to himself. He's not so goddamn stupid as to go wandering off on his own, but the mindless routine of the jumps has been taking its toll on him. There comes a point when the only company a man can stand is his own.

Which is why, when he switches on his communicator, the first face he sees leaves him momentarily at a loss for words.

Still. Suspicion takes over fast. Could be another goddamn clone.]

You look like shit.

[His voice is neutral, his one good eye narrowed. No way to tell right now.]

[His voice registers before his image. Shepard ignored the bright warning blossom of pain that washed through her she inched her fingertips out to nudge the communicator closer.]

Harbinger dropped by to say goodbye.

[The shrug of her shoulders is so very don't mean a thing, but there's a tug of a smile surfacing. She tilts her head back against the edge of the bed, her laugh hoarse. When she looks down again, she's peering a little more intently at him. Still Zaeed, still paranoid -- she didn't blame him. Another slight pull with her fingertips and she's got the communicator in hand and tucked closer.]

Hot wired any tubs to fry people lately? [Her eyebrows arch ever so slightly.]

Seems like the kind of bastard who would choose to make it a personal thing. For a Reaper, anyway. London?

[At her next comment he pauses, then relaxes fractionally, something close to a smirk appearing on his own features.]

Distinct lack of hot tubs here. It's a goddamn disgrace.

Mm. [Shepard nods once.] London. [She shifts a little, drawing a slow breath.] It. It didn't look anything like the pictures. The Reapers made it into a hellhole.

[Her fingers go to her cheek and her chin jerks for just a second as she blinks it away and back into a smile. Deal with it, Shepard. She notices the pause, the slight ease of tension that few people would catch but someone who'd been in a squad with him. Tight quarters and trouble, that's what made you notice those things.]

That's a shame about the hot tubs. I could use one, preferably not cranked up to nuke my DNA. Showers only do so much.

Yeah, I know. I was groundside. Never thought I'd give much of a damn about Earth, but-- [A half-shrug. All bets are off when you're talking Reapers.] Never seen anything like it.

[He meant what he said, though: she looks like shit.] Last anyone heard, you were headed for the Conduit. Just like you to go toe-to-toe with a Reaper on the way without inviting the rest of us.

[A snort.] Never gonna let the DNA thing go, are you.

I remember you saying you'd be there, Jessie in tow. [Her expression softens just enough as her eyes crinkle. It eases some of that pained hardness, the cracks where her Cerberus implants shine through. He's right, she looks like shit -- feels like it, too.]

Vega and Kaidan came with me, had to evac them, though. Kaidan got hit pretty badly, but I-- [Her fingers settle absently against her lips, then drop away as her eyes close. Her voice is caked in the rusty grit of loss mixed with the relief of a job finished.] Knew where I had to be. Made it, though that damn laser almost did me in.

[There was a pause, a hitch in the breath she drew before speaking again.]

How much do you want to know, Zaeed?

[He smirks at that, just for a moment.] Hell of a fight. Wouldn't have missed it for anything.

[What she's saying matches up with what Vega told him, at least. And what little Vega knew wasn't enough to satisfy either of their curiosities. Goddamn difficult sitting here on a ship when as far as you knew your galaxy was about to be destroyed. Small wonder they'd attempted the run, in the end.]

Vega was here. So was Jack. [That without preamble; he doesn't know Shepard knows about their ill-advised hijacking attempt, but the names alone should be enough explanation.] Said you'd called in an evac, didn't know what happened after that. That was a while back. Haven't seen 'em since. No idea where they've got to now.

[He frowns, folds his arms. There's something lurking in her voice that tells him he's not going to like what he hears.] Been sitting here for four goddamn months wondering what the hell happened back there. I want to hear everything. Although if you're gonna tell me you fucked it up at the last minute...

[Zaeed trails off. It wouldn't have happened anyway. Right?]

[Vega. Jack. They were good names to hear, but the breath she let out was weary, more human than the rock of a leader she usually fronted. She wasn't going to just lie to Zaeed of all people, tell him that it was fine. There was always a ferryman to be paid, wasn't there? The silence between his words and hers was an ocean.]

Come get me the hell out of here, Zaeed. [She says this as she presses aching fingertips against her eyes and shakes her head minutely.]

I'm not sure I want to-- [Shepard swallows reflexively, pushing herself upward, her fingers tight around the communicator.] Not over an open comm line. Not like this.

[It seemed artificial, impersonal, and she felt selfish for wanting to shed distance, for needing something more than a damned video link.]

[The silence is a clearer answer than any she could actually have given him. He fills it automatically with all the things that could've gone wrong, which is a pretty extensive list when none of them even knows what the Crucible is supposed to do in the first place. Easy to assume the worst. Was it a dud? A trap? Just another way for the Reapers to kick their collective asses? Did she set off some kind of self-destruct mechanism? Probably not. Shepard doesn't sound angry enough for that.

Shit.]

On my way. [It's all he says before the feed goes dark.

He arrives a few minutes later, raising an eyebrow at Shepard. For some reason she seems even worse up close, but there's a good chance the cold sterility of the medbay is making her look paler than she actually is.]

Might be a little messy breaking you out of here. Bastards took my armor. And Jessie. [NOT THAT IT WAS HIS FAULT OR ANYTHING.]

[It's funny, really. You get used to how people inhabit the space around, how they fill it, the sound of their footsteps. Armor or not, that's Zaeed even with her eyes closed as she leaned her weight into the bed.]

Everything we do is messy, Zaeed. Everything. [Her eyes open and she's studying him like she'd not quite sure he's real. It's the uniform, maybe, the distinct lack of armor.] Heard from a little bird that you were shitstirring. That must have been some party to get your crap confiscated.

[It was the cold that got to her (spread through her body like a cold fire, and tempted her to jack with her implants to raise her temperature), that and the medical shit. She was good, she just needed time. There wasn't any more they could do for her anyway and she wasn't in any danger of bucket kicking. Shepard pushed away from the bed, her expression wry.]

[He crosses his arms against her stare, dropping into his familiar slouch against the wall next to the bed. Three months in this goddamn jumpsuit and he still feels naked walking around in it.

He lets out a dry, sharp laugh.] So Fry ratted me out? Figured she would. Told you Vega and Jack were here, and when the last thing any of you remember is your galaxy about to end, you're not too big on sticking around. Should've seen it, Shepard. Took an army to bring us down in the shuttle bay. Wouldn't be surprised if some of 'em still have bruises.

[He understands, now, that it wouldn't have gotten them anywhere. Carolyn managed to beat that into his head. But that doesn't mean he regrets it much. He tilts his head, eyes Shepard grimly.]

Still. I'd like to know how it all turned out.

[Her lips curve faintly as she moved to ease herself up onto the edge of the bed if only to save herself the agony of staying upright. She was facing Zaeed, her expression shifting from amusement to something darker.]

Anderson followed me through the Conduit. I remember waking up somewhere I'd never been. [She shook her head, her eyes widening.] There were thousands of bodies, Zaeed. Thousands and thousands on conveyor belts, strewn across the passage I had to walk. The smell of death was--

[Shepard let out a breath.]

I've been around death enough that I didn't think it'd bother me, but this was different. Horrific in a whole new sense. [She sat, locked in position, her back straight as a rod and her fingers white-knuckling the covers.]

By the time I caught up with Anderson, The Illusive Man was there. He'd. Changed himself -- Reaper implants, some sort of will robbing ability. Before I could do anything, he'd forced me to shoot Anderson. I talked him down, forced him to do the right thing and shoot himself.

[Like Saren.]

The Crucible docked and I thought it was over. Both Anderson and I did. I-- [Her brow creased and she was staring through Zaeed.] He didn't make it and I kept moving toward the console, to try and figure it out. I remember moving, but I must have collapsed.

[Her fingertips dug into the fabric deeper.]

The Catalyst turned out to be an artificial construct. It gave me choices and told me I could control the Reapers, merge with them and create a hybrid of machine and organics, or simply destroy them. The last option meant that EDI and the Geth would be exterminated as well, maybe myself, too since I'm mostly tech, but I didn't have a choice.

[Her voice was hollow as she existed in that moment. That fragment of memory that cut deep enough that she knew there'd be no getting over it. It was something she'd weather for the rest of her life.]

I shot out the rod that meant the Reapers would be destroyed.

[Maybe her hands were trembling, maybe it was just cold. Maybe she was just freezing because she'd committed genocide in the name of saving the rest of the galaxy.]

And I killed them all. No more Reapers. I remember an explosion and the Citadel coming down around me, then nothing until that breathing tube was yanked out.

[Shepard's face was as tight as the rest of her, keeping herself still, as still as she could. It was done. She was done and it was horrible, but right all at once.]

[Zaeed is silent for a long while after she finishes. What are you even supposed to say in response to something like that? It's almost worse, he thinks, than the Catalyst being some kind of trap--not that he's sure it wasn't a trap after all.

He exhales slowly, mind buzzing. And just like that, the war's over. Genocide in exchange for victory. It's a thing that shouldn't bother him--not much love lost between him and synthetics to begin with, and hell if EDI hadn't been a pain in the ass more often than not--but he'd be lying if the sheer scale of it isn't a little sobering.

But that would be the intent, wouldn't it? The other two options sound a little too goddamn good to be true. He knows what he would've picked. And it may be a cold, brutal end to a cold, brutal war, but he of all people ought to know that it's usually for the best.]

Hell of a story, Shepard. Gotta say, not sure I understand all of it. [He glances at her, his own expression carefully blank. All the signs of tension are there in her frame, easily read to anyone who's fought at her side. When she can stand on her own two feet again, they're hitting the bar and hitting it hard.] Still. If it had to be someone pulling the trigger, I'm glad it was you.

I'm not sure I understand all of it, Zaeed.

[The exhaustion wasn't just physical, she knew that. There was a psychological component, the shock of being forced to choose, of being forced to see and experience the hell that had be both war and loss. Even Commander Shepard had her limits. Her bones felt like ice and her fingers creaked as she squeezed her fist tighter against the sheet in an unconscious attempt to bear down on any emotion that wanted to leak out.]

It's done. [She blinked, half focusing o him, pulling herself partially out of the fog recounting those events had put her in.] It's done and I want out of here before I freeze to death.

[The last was said with pure determination.]

Anywhere but here. [And she was on her feet again, jaw tight as she kept herself from teetering forward by a hand on the bed.]

Edited (Typos. Get out.) 2013-03-18 10:07 (UTC)

You got it. [His voice is brisk, businesslike, without a shred of pity. She doesn't need it, and even if she did, he wouldn't be the one to offer it to her. The war is over, and the Reapers are dead, and they can let the implications of it sink in later. For now, the first order of business is getting her out of medbay.

He pushes himself off the wall, glancing at their immediate surroundings. Nobody seems to be paying them any particular mind. Situation like this, the best thing to do is keep moving and act like you know what you're doing.]

Think you can walk?

Three minutes, relatively normally. [It was objective, her voice calculated. Testing it had been a daily, careful thing since she'd been brought in. As long as she was moving, she could force herself through it for long enough to clear the room.]

Three and a half to four if I screw with my implants. [Her expression was determined. Consider the implants screwed with.]

That'll get us to the lifts. You got a destination in mind?

[He eyes her as he moves a little closer, not offering support yet but there should she need it.]

Either way, better not keep you standing. Let's go.

[She was moving before she was speaking, her gait a little hitched but passable. Shepard's fist was curled in a ball, her knuckles white before she consciously relaxed her hand and went with the rolling waves of pain. She breathed in, let it out, and thought. Not here, not here, not here.]

Somewhere safe.

[There's no such thing as safe. It wasn't an answer, but if anyone knew, she trusted that Zaeed would. Half way across the room her fingers brush his sleeve, as if to make sure he was real, as well as for momentary balance. Move it. Beads of sweat form at her hairline and her throat aches.]

I'm not. [Her smile is steel. Hell yes, was she going to keep moving.] Partial.

[Halfway across the room and neither of them have been stopped. It's a good sign. He glances down briefly when she brushes against him, but doesn't comment on it. He knows better than that.]

As far as the passenger quarters at least, then. [A short, abrupt laugh.] Christ, if Chakwas could see us now she'd have both our heads.

Head and limbs. A spleen. [Shepard laughs, knowing just what sort of dressing down they'd be in for if the doctor had caught them. She concentrated on the goal ahead, determined with every last fiber of her being to get as far as humanly possible without giving in.]

Did you say how long you'd been here? What you were doing. Before? I asked that, didn't I?

[Shepard blinked, trying to sort conversations that ran together like sizzling sparklers in her mind. Maybe he had. Maybe she couldn't keep shit in her head right now. Words were good. They filled the hum in the air, kept her focused. If she could make it through the door, a little further and out of sight, they'd be golden.]

Edited (Slight revamp of words. Still need more coffee.) 2013-03-20 00:18 (UTC)

[She has, but he figures he can stand to answer again, so long as she's responding. Seems to help, anyway.] Coming up on four months now. Spent one of those months sat on my arse in the brig with Vega and Jack. Rest of 'em weren't much more interesting, discounting the manticores. Met a turian here a jump back, name of Kandros, but I haven't seen anyone else from our side of the universe yet.

[He resists the urge to glance back at the medbay as they reach the door. Not like they're playing at goddamn Orpheus here, but he doesn't want to tempt fate. Eyes forward, keep talking.]

Reminds me of a job I had back in Huerta Memorial.

Four months, right. [Vega, Jack. The facts are slippery, strange things, and this new situation with its own brand of surreal madness plays with her mind. There is a part of her screaming that this could be Reaper indoctrination. She breathes through the gut twisting moment, her breath sharp. This is Zaeed. And he is real.]

Tell me [her voice comes out breathless with effort] about the job? [Her fingers are there, on his arm. Loose amid the painful firing of raw nerves and injury. He is her anchor to this moment. His stories - familiar, his voice familiar. Zaeed couldn't not be real. Not even the Reapers were that convincing.]

Wasn't mine to begin with. Target was a krogan, pretty high up in the Blood Pack. Didn't ask how high. Wasn't important. Seemed the first guy they'd sent was a kid who barely knew one end of a gun from the other, and when he fucked up his employers decided I'd be a better investment.

[The door to medbay slides open. Not much farther to the lift now. He matches his steps to hers and keeps talking.]

Had to go it solo. You go anywhere near a hospital like Huerta with a team and security's on you faster than a rabid varren. Didn't want to deal with the attention, so I put on a lab coat and made it into operating before anyone realized anything was off.

Always wanted to try my hand at a double heart transplant.

If you want a job done right-- [There's a slight sigh of relief as they clear the door.] Gotta match the person. To the job.

[She's not stopping, but she'd winded. Shepard pushes herself like she's always done, and keeps moving. It's a subtle wounded warrior tango of steps, and she pays as much attention to how he moves as she does getting her body to cooperate.]

Getting in is one thing. Getting out? [She'd been on plenty of recon missions where the in was relatively easy and the out was less than appropriately quiet.] Difficult.

Getting out's the fun part, Shepard. [A smirk as he punches the button for the lift and returns to his slouch against the wall.] Surprised you didn't know that.

Never said it wasn't fun. [She closed her eyes with a laugh.] Just difficult.

[When she opened them, her vision swam for a moment. It made her refocus, eyes clouded for a moment. She shifted so her weight went into the wall to keep herself upright.]

Or is challenging a better word?

[A shrug.] I don't do milk runs, Shepard. No point to them.

Speaking of which. Figure we'll have a hell of a time digging you out when we get back. Didn't think you'd try and one-up Vakarian by taking a goddamn Citadel to the face.

[She snorted softly.]

Gotta aim high, Zaeed. If you're gonna do it, it better be big.

[Her expression, which had been amused, went slightly distant. She was calculating the explosion, the debris, the physics of it and he was right. She shook her head slightly.]

Yeah. It'll be a hell of a dig.

We'll get you out. [Delivered with his usual casual confidence.]

Shame about the clone, though. Could've used it for spare parts.

Mm. You will. [Zaeed, her crew, if anyone could do it, they could. All of them were stubborn as hell. Her smile was a slight tug of her lips, one that ended with a mild laugh.]

Given the circumstances, I'm starting to agree with that sentiment.

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