Grumbling, Shepard shifts to his side, head pounding mercilessly.

The music emitting from his radio on the nightstand blaring, signaling that it's time for him to get up and start the day. It was a rare commodity for him not to be up before the alarm actually made itself known. Normally, he'd be up at least an hour or two prior to when he was supposed to be. He spent his mornings in one of three ways: working out in the gym on one of the lower levels, reluctantly filing papers and reading reports, or - if the rest of the crew had happened to be lucky that day, preparing breakfast with what he could work with before Gardner woke up. None of that was happening today, probably to everyone elses dismay.

Finally gaining enough strength to move his aching limbs, the man reaches over and smacks the radio causing all music to cease. With a thankful grunt, he rolls over and wraps his sheet back over his head. They were a lot more comfortable last night than now. He knew he couldn't stay in bed all day, the little voice in the back of his mind was a constant reminder. But still knowing that; he couldn't bring himself to fully stand, or even sit up for that matter; just as he was about to succomb to sleep once more, a familar voice sounded from across the room, he must've blocked out the noise of the door opening.

"Oh look at sleeping beauty, I almost don't want to wake you," Garrus chuckles, receiving a grunt from Shepard as he pulls a pillow over the side of his head. "C'mon Shepard, get up."

"Go away," he grumbles, tossing a pillow at the turian and burying his face deeper into the mattress.

"I'll start singing a turian mating call if I have to, don't make me do it." Garrus stands at the side of the bed, very well ready to make some unpleasant noises if need be.

"Fine. I'm getting up, but I've gotta' shower. Leave now unless you want a show." Getting up from the bed, Shepard rests on hand on his head, the other being used as support to walk to the bathroom.

"I think I'll pass this time. Have fun, you have to be at a debriefing in twenty, don't forget," he calls over his shoulder, walking out into the hall then to the elevator.

Once in the bathroom, the commander lets out an exhausted sigh, slipping off the remainder of his pants along with his underclothes, already lacking a shirt since last night - and it's only god knows where. While removing his clothes, a scar glimmers in the mirror, catching his eye. He moves over to the sink, placing both hands on either side of the firm titanium, gazing up at his harden reflection. Most of the facial scarring dissipated, but there was still a few lingering marks across his back and chest. Something told him, regardless of the doctor's words, that a few of the wounds would always be there - a constant reminder that he died and came back. Don't get him wrong, he was more than thankful, but it'd be a relief to feel a bit more human for once.

Pulling himself out of his reverie, Shepard shifted from the mirror and turned on the water. As much as he'd like to have a decent warm shower, he knew very well that it'd lull him back to sleep. Hesitantly, he turned the knob to the coldest temperature it could be at, letting himself enter at a sluggish pace; the water pours like ice over his taut flesh. He rests his palms on the wall closest to him, letting the chilling feeling envelope him completely.

At this point, it's hard to have his mind not wander to her. Usually in times like this, he'd welcome it, she'd been a pleasant thought for a long while; though now, nothing bubbles up aside from a distant longing - and it was anything but welcome after the night he had. When he prepared to talk to her about how he felt, all his hopes were risen. Every action pulled him closer to the thought of her feeling the same. They had prolonged talks on the ship and off, none of which felt forced, it all came so natural and he knew there was no way she didn't think the same. Perhaps he was wrong, perhaps their relationship was purely platonic, but there was no hurt in voicing his feelings, right? Wrong. So very wrong. He was never one to break easily, but her rejection was stinging more with each passing second.

Her words rang through his head as he rakes his hand over his shaved scalp.

In another life.

What was wrong with the current one they were both in? There was no other life - at least not for him. In a way, this was his other life, this was his second chance. He didn't force himself on her, but simply offered himself to her. That alone was something terrifying, something he hadn't done since Ashley. All he had to settle with was her reasoning, one of which he should've seen coming but was blinded by his own feelings. Why hadn't he taken her oath into consideration? Not doing so caused the inevitable heartbreak. The only thing worse than overwhelming distress her words caused was knowing that part of her desired him too. But all he'd have to remember was an almost kiss, all he had to be content with was her promises of another life, and if that's how it had to be, he'd take it over nothing.

Shutting off the water, he takes a towel and wraps it loosely around his waist after quickly drying off. Not bothering to pick up his discarded clothes, Shepard leaves the room and enters into the living area almost missing the figure standing by his desk.

"Hey, you need something?" he asks not looking her way as he uses his free hand that wasn't holding the towel to rummage through his clothing drawer, breaking the silence that was held heavily over the two.

"We're all waiting for you downstairs. Miss Lawson says she has some important news to inform you with," Samara says, hands tightly locked behind her back, gaze not once faltering.

"I'll be down soon, just woke up late, is all." Laying out his spare regulation Cerberus uniform, he's ready to drop the straining cloth hung around his waist, but he still senses her presence lingering.

He takes a moment to sigh, not an irritating one, but weary - tired. Turning on his heels toward her, fumbling with the fabric covering his lower half, he glances her way. "Was there something else?"

It seems as though he catches her off guard, like she wasn't expecting him to speak with her, but she still responds nonetheless, "Are you feeling ill? It's rather rare for you to stay in so late. Is there something I can do to aid you?"

"No, I'm alright. I stayed up too late last night going over the rest of the dossiers, nothing you can do here," his tone is flat and that's a rarity all on its own. His eyes show no emotion, but he still sends her a small smile and a nod, whether it was forced or not, she doesn't know.

The asari merely returns his nod, walking towards the elevator and having the door shut behind her without so much as a goodbye. Groaning, Shepard shakes his head. Concealing his sentiments would be harder than he originally thought, but he was sure he could manage.

A/N: Okay so this chapter might've gotten a little away from me, and I wrote more than I intended, but I hope you can see where this is headed. Don't forget to R&R, than you!