Donovan Hock was a bastard.
Shepard pushed his back to the metal container with a grunt, bullets bouncing off the ground behind him in a constant spray. He was sick of airships. He was sick of every asshole deciding they needed to bring an unnecessarily large machine to a gunfight.
"Taking a break, Shep?"
He gave the thief a look he figured would communicate exactly how sick of it he was.
Kasumi just grinned back at him. "Oh, come on. I got the shields down, like you said. Now just shoot it with your big gun"
He hoisted the rocket launcher to his shoulder once more with a seething glare.
"You're welcome to step in front of that spray and aim," His pistol came up with a snap as one of the lingering mercs poked their heads around the side of a shipping container. There was a thud as the man's body fell and Shepard settled back behind cover, renewed fire from the airship following him. "I have one rocket and no time to bullshit."
"No need to get snappy. At least if you get shot, you'll die with good hair. That cut really did turn out nice." The thief grinned beneath her hood at his expression. "It's the little things."
"You said this would be easy," He grumbled, shifting slowly towards the edge again. The weight of the heavy weapon on his shoulder was unfamiliar. Jacob had pulled it out of hiding after their run in with the colossus, promising to look for some more alternatives whenever they docked for resupply. It had been ages since he'd used one, but he had to admit he had enjoyed the extra firepower. "This was supposed to be easy."
She shrugged. "I think it's always supposed to be easy, Shep."
"That's the fucking truth." He drew in a deep breath and waited as the spray stopped behind them, and Hock began to mock them again from that damned helicopter. Shepard's jaw clenched irritably. "Can you pull his attention long enough for me to line up a shot?" Kasumi smirked, and he shook his head. "Preferably without getting yourself killed."
"Easy. Just watch."
She disappeared without another word. Not for the first time that day he made a note to get a hold of the coding for her stealth cloak. The tiny woman was ridiculously good at translating her abilities to be utilized in combat. There was a flash on the opposite side of the roof, followed by several pops and Kasumi's form floated from one place to another, effectively drawing Hock's attention. The ship's guns drifted towards her as she vanished again. It was enough.
He heaved the rocket launcher, aimed and steadied it as well as he could, and squeezed. The soft plunk of the rocket leaving the chamber was absurdly quiet in contrast to its impact; the airship went up with a blast, an explosion of color he could feel. The heat of the explosion radiated in through his suit. His lips quirked in satisfaction.
"So that's what it takes to get you to smile." Kasumi strolled over casually, the small device they had come for clutched firmly in her hand. "A little creepy, Shep."
"He was a bastard." He grunted, locking the weapon in its holster on his back. His expression settled back into neutrality. "Let's go before the rest of his guests come to investigate."
"True." She conceded, unperturbed, and started towards the landing pad. "You know, if the yelling, shooting, and swearing didn't pull them, I doubt they'll come now. I think this crowd is used to it." She mused, but her eyes had drifted towards her hands as she turned over the tiny box. "But I won't argue with heading out."
"Joker, send the shuttle."
"Will do, Commander." The pilot's voice sounded lazily in his ear. "You better be bringing me back a gift bag."
Shepard rolled his eyes, ignoring the pilot, and settled himself atop a crate. He looked out over Bekenstein's desolate, over-developed landscape with a scowl. It had been too long since he'd seen green. Since they brought him back, it had all been space and cities and ruins, soulless places with artificial life. Fitting, for an artificial body. But he found himself yearning to see fields, trees, water. Before it all started to burn away.
Maybe he'd get a chance to see Earth again, before it was all over.
Maybe Ash would be there.
"You really lack subtlety, Shep." Kasumi shut down the thought for him, settling next to him and looking at the sky, following the shuttle's approach. "Breaking windows? Shooting guards? Hardly a covert operation."
"They shot first. I hardly went on a rampage." He muttered, a hand scrubbing over a neatly-trimmed beard. Chambers had been delighted when Kasumi requested her aid in 'cleaning him up'. He scowled at the memory. "And we had things to do. I wasn't going to sit and wait for an opportunity to sneak in."
"Still, remind me not to ask you along for any more heists." The thief smirked. "I think you lack the necessary patience."
He just shook his head and pushed off the grate as the shuttle landed. Both walked towards it wordlessly, Kasumi instantly drifting towards the vehicle's small monitor. Her fingers worked at the controls as they lifted off and Shepard settled into a seat and she activated the grey box with obvious trepidation.
"Kasumi, if you're seeing this, it's because I'm dead."
She was silent and still. Shepard frowned as he watched it, watched her, as her lover's form fluttered and flashed, the images shifting to display secrets and hidden moments between the two. He pulled his eyes away, staring at the floor, as she pleaded for the ghost of him not to leave. The man was demanding that she forget him, but when the holograph flickered away, when she turned to him with desperation in her eyes, he knew she wouldn't let him go.
"Keep it." Shepard sighed, a hand pulling through his hair. Whatever the information was, he couldn't ask her to give him up. The Alliance would take care of itself. "Just be careful with it."
Kasumi nodded, settling into the seat across from him. "I will. I…" Her expression was schooled again as she looked up at him. "I think I want this. Thank you, Shep."
He nodded. He got it. Because he knew what it was like to not want to let go. And there was no reason he should have to, because Ash was still out there – with her maybes and ifs and somedays. The thought still left a bitter taste in his mouth, but it didn't matter. He needed her, and he'd take whatever bit she'd give him, whenever he could take it.
He knew it was fucked up, just like Kasumi knew it was fucked up. Neither of them cared.
A blue screen flared before her eyes as she dove back into long-dead memories, and his omitool brought an orange glow to the shuttle's cabin. Jack had told him not to reply. He couldn't remember why he had decided to listen to her.
He had to reply.
It was simple, short, but he hoped she understood. Because she was the only one who really understood him, and he couldn't just stop needing that. No matter how much he might want to.
The shuttle landed smoothly in the docking bay and they both left it without a word. His eyes found the punching bag - crudely strung up and badly beaten- and he drifted towards it, unlatching his armor as he went. He left the pieces in a heap and shrugged off his suitcoat with them, leaving him in formal pants and an undershirt.
Not really standard issue sweat gear, but he found he didn't give a fuck.
Kasumi watched him with an arched brow. "Running from Hock's mercs didn't tire you out?"
Shepard rolled his shoulders, eyeing one of the fading red scars snaking its way up his arm. He was tired. He was always tired. But his body never seemed to understand that anymore.
"Miracles of modern medicine." He grunted bitterly.
She hummed her agreement, her eyes drifting over him with a catlike grin. "Don't ruin those pants – they're designer." The thief had already plastered on her usual smirk, as if nothing unusual had happened – as if she hadn't just taken back all of her dead boyfriend's memories. He didn't know how she did it. "See you at the bar later?"
Shepard frowned. Was he really that predictable? He let out a sigh, unable to deny it. He really could use a drink.
"Probably."
"Looking forward to it, Shep."
He didn't bother watching her leave. He knew well enough by now she would just disappear. He flexed his hands and drew in a breath before throwing himself at the bag. It was rapid fire stress-relief, pushing himself, his body, as much as the frail equipment could handle. He let the rush of blood in his ears drown out the doubts, take away the fear, the helplessness. He couldn't worry that Ash might not respond. He couldn't worry about never getting her back.
Because the constant pulse in the back of his mind was an ever-present reminder that they all had a lot bigger, Reaper-sized things to worry about.
His fists hit harder.
"You leave yourself open."
The drell's rumbling voice made him pause. Shepard glanced back over his shoulder to meet the bottomless black of his eyes. He hadn't heard Thane's approach. The assassin could appear as suddenly and easily as Kasumi, but unlike the thief, he didn't need a cloak. Shepard watched him warily.
"A skilled opponent could easily capitalize on this. You have both power and agility, but it is not controlled. You swing too wide, show too much in your expression."
"Can I do something for you, Krios?"
"No. Simply observing." The drell walked towards him silently, arms clasped behind his back as he considered the commander with cool interest. "You are right to use your anger, but you must bridle it before it controls you."
Shepard's fists clenched. "I'm good, thanks."
"I intended no offense. I offered you my service, and with this I can help you." A second set of lids fluttered over his eyes. "You train your body in the same way you train your mind. You lash out with no regard for consequences. You plunge forward without any concern for yourself. This I understand, and with this I can help you."
Shepard's eyes narrowed, his teeth grinding against each other. Where was this coming from? The longest conversation he'd had with the drell was concerning his illness, whether he was contagious, and if he'd last the length of the mission. He thought they had come out of it with a mutual understanding not to fuck with one another.
Where the hell was he coming from with this?
"Did Chakwas send you?" He guessed. It was a shot in the dark, but he couldn't think of any other reason for the drell's sudden interest.
The assassin shook his head. "No. There was no need. For me, observation has been a necessary skill for many years." Thane paced slowly around him, hands still clasped firmly at the small of his back. Stalking him. "You hold onto your pain. It is clear in the tension of your muscles, the twitch of your hands. Your body language is transparent – it tells everyone what you won't. Whatever haunts you is always with you, as it is with me. And with this I can help you,"
Shepard was already walking towards the elevator, his armor and suit coat left abandoned in a heap by the bag. Thane watched him go with the same cool curiosity. The assassin simply let him go.
"When you are ready."
The elevator doors closed, and he was left with a profound sense of cluelessness. His hand pulled through his hair once more, and he didn't bother queuing the elevator to stop at his cabin. He could shower later – now, he needed a damn drink.
The doors opened to the common area and he stepped out, walking quickly towards the bar without a backwards glance. He'd start mission reports and update Miranda later. They already had a set destination. He had time to indulge.
Kasumi was on her couch when he walked in. She grinned at him, but said nothing, the blue screen obscuring her eyes once more. She wasn't alone, however, and he couldn't help the sigh the escaped as Jack swiveled to greet him. She swayed in her seat, glass already half empty. It undoubtedly wasn't the first.
"Damn, happy to see you too, asshole."
Shepard slid behind the bar and reached down to a bottle of bourbon he'd stashed in a small cubby, rolling his eyes. "Fuck, Jack. I'm just tired." He didn't look up from his glass as he took a slow drink, savoring the burn. He didn't look up as he put it on the counter.
"Right." She lifted her own drink, and he felt her eyes boring a hole into his head as he leaned against the bar. The convict was silent for a moment, before slamming down her glass. "You fucking sent her something back, didn't you?"
"How many times do I have to tell you it's none of your fucking business?"
"It is my business, because you're a damn bitch baby when it comes to anything that has to do with her. I'm sure you were a fucking ray of sunshine with Kasumi today." The thief giggled behind her as Jack jabbed back a thumb. "See? Our business. You're a fucking whiner. It's bad for morale, or whatever."
He drank, eyeing the door and wondering if he'd just have to deal with her following him out. She drank with him.
"Listen, it's like this," Jack paused, something catching her attention in her drink. He cleared his throat. Jack turned back with a swivel and a glare. "Fuck you. It's like this – you want her, right? Got yourself all wrapped up like you need her or something?"
His fingers tightened around his glass. He took a hearty swig.
"I get that. I was there, once." His brows rose at her admission. "But you don't need her. You don't need anyone. I don't need anyone. You fucking commanded a ship before she fucked you, right? You were doing fine."
He gave her a look.
"Shut the fuck up. I'm saying, you lived. You had a life. Sure, you were probably an asshole – you seem like the type that's always been a fucking dick for some melodramatic reason. But you had a life. The whole fucking Alliance fawning over you like the good little boy scout you were."
"I don't get where you're getting that." Shepard muttered, watching her fingers rap on the bar at some unknown beat. "I've never been a fucking boy scout."
"That's not the goddamn point, moron. The point is," She paused, seemingly for dramatic effect. Or because she forgot. "The point is you have to go back. To before. Forget her. She can't have been that good." The convict snorted a little after her slurred words. "She's keeping you trapped, just in case you turn out to be the hero again. That's really fucking shitty." Jack spat at the ground without any hint of remorse. There was a disapproving scoff from Kasumi. "You're fucking whipped."
"You're a bitch."
She snorted. "I haven't kept that a secret. I'm just saying you're really goddamn miserable. It's a buzzkill to be around. I mean, when was the last time you were happy?" She made some loose motion with her hand in his direction and he glared at the ground. "Even when you're drunk you're fucking depressed."
"You're one to talk."
"Hey, I'm always fucking happy. I'm just always pissed off too." She grinned and pointed with her drink to emphasize her point. "And I don't let shit hold me back from doing what I want to do, or feeling what I want to feel."
"Except love." Shepard murmured, surprising himself as the words slipped out.
Jack was silent for a moment, her eyes narrowing. The humor left her voice. "Love is a joke, Romeo."
He stared down at the thin sheet of amber left in his glass, rolling it in his hand before knocking it back.
"I loved her," His words hurt deep in his chest. Why the fuck was he talking about this? A hand ran through his hair. "Love her. Fuck. Why are we talking about this?"
"Because I'm making you. Get another damn drink before you make me throw up."
He shook his head, but poured himself another, before tilting the bottle into her glass as well. "If you're going to get plastered, at least do it off of some decent fucking liquor."
She laughed, the sound genuine and rare. "I didn't realize getting plastered was an art now, Romeo."
"That blue shit will fuck you up, but you'll end up wanting to die in the morning." His lips tugged up as she snorted again, taking a slow drink. He was grateful for the easy change of subject. "This is the real stuff – smooth, simple. Earth-brewed." He grabbed the bottle and walked around the bar, sliding onto the stool next to her and waving at the empty blue bottle. "Asari don't know shit about liquor."
"You just can't handle it. Great thing about an over-charged biotic amp – no hangover." Jack grinned. "I can drink your pansy ass under the bar, and wake up feeling like nothing happened."
"Bullshit."
She slammed down her drink. "No fucking joke. I'll take you now, if you don't believe me."
Shepard chuckled. "I'll believe you this time."
"Look at that, you can laugh. It's a fucking miracle." Jack grinned wide. "The Alliance bitch had better watch out – she's losing her grip."
"I really fucking hate you."
Her lips curled, something predatory emerging in her eyes. "Yeah, that's why you're drinking with me." She took a slow drink, lips lingering on the glass before pulling it away and shaking her head. "Forget about it. So, shoot anything fun today?"
Shepard took another slow drink, his grip still tight around his glass as he tried to decide if she had really dropped it. Finally he shrugged. "Gunship. Got it with a rocket."
"Now that's what I'm fucking talking about." The convict slapped a palm on the bar and he snorted. "I tell you about blowing up that station? The explosion when that thing hit that moon…"
He gaped at Jack as she flew into her story, waving her arms vigorously. Shepard just shook his head and drank. She was impossible to work with - an actual criminal - but for some reason she was the easiest to talk to. Or in this case, to just be with. She kept talking, pausing only to drink, until one descriptive motion sent her reeling back off her stool. She fell back and he lunged forward, catching her and pulling her back up against him.
She was thin, lean, and he never noticed all those times in the field just how small she seemed in his arms.
"You and your fucking hero complex." The convict rolled her eyes up at him. They were brown. "You smell like ass."
They weren't the brown he knew.
Shepard stepped away quickly. "And you're fucking drunk." He grabbed his glass off the counter and downed the rest in a single swallow. "I'm going to sleep."
He didn't bother waiting for a response as he walked quickly towards the door, ignoring the obviously intrigued look that Kasumi sent after him. He just needed to sleep. The day had fucked with his head, and he needed to try and sleep it off.
But when the door opened and Miranda stood before him, he knew sleep was the last thing he was getting. She looked over him with an arched brow and mild disapproval before meeting his gaze.
"Commander, the Illusive Man wishes to speak with you. It's urgent."