Disclaimer: I don't own Mass Effect, though I wish I owned the Normandy.

AN: I must say that I am overwhelmed by the positive response that I've received from The Price of Betrayal. Thank you very much for reading, responding, and otherwise supporting! Picking Up the Pieces is a story that I've actually had (hand)written for some time now and just never gotten around to transcribing it to computer. The Mass Effect series is one of my all-time favorite video game franchises, and the first game that I've played that I felt an emotional connection to the characters. I was intrigued with the way that it used a hard-core sci-fi setting as a backdrop to address such issues as life, death, consequence, faith, and discrimination, and wanting to touch on these themes I wrote this as an epilogue to the trilogy. I will be discussing matters of faith in this story, so if this bothers you I apologize but ask that you stand warned. Ultimately this is nothing more than my own interpretation and tribute to a fantastic series of games.

I will not be posting any more stories on FFN for a little while, but I do want to let you all know that I am hard at work on another Harry Potter story, this one a bit longer than the two I've currently posted. As soon as it is done I will be posting it as well, but in chapter format rather than a one-shot. Thank you for reading, and thank you for the words of encouragement and constructive criticism! And now, Picking Up the Pieces.

-PUTP-

He floated in the void, a lost, broken soul alone in the night. In the midst of the darkness, out towards the farthest edges of his consciousness, there was pain. Dull, throbbing, not intolerable yet determined and constant, never quite letting itself go unnoticed, the steady aching refused to let him slip into oblivion. The darkness began to retreat before the growing onslaught, fading away despite his desperate entreaties for it to swallow him. He was so tired, weary to the point of death, and wanted nothing more than to lay down the burden of existence. Why, he wasn't sure. Both his memory and perception were blurred to the point that his awareness of self was on the brink of annihilation. He had no idea who he was, where he was, or what he had done. All he had was the sense that he had made a decision, that he had accomplished something great, but there was also a sense of unspeakable loss and sacrifice.

He wished the pain would go away, that instead the darkness would take him to his eternal rest, but it was relentless. Through the fragmented remains of his memory a distant piece coalesced. Just a voice, somehow familiar, but he couldn't place it. He could understand the words, though, and he knew in his heart that he wouldn't give up. Not that he couldn't give up, but that he wouldn't.

Listen up, you filthy apes, the leathery voice growled. Pain is not your enemy. Pain is your best friend 'cause one day it'll save your sorry excuse for a life. Never forget – the presence of pain is a signal to whatever passes for your brains that you are still alive! And as long as you're still alive, you've got a mission to complete. If through some divine miracle you maggots survive the next sixteen weeks you will become Alliance Marines. And Marines are not allowed to die without permission!

A name attached itself to the voice: Gunny Ellison. His drill instructor in basic training, a warhorse if ever there was one. With zero tolerance for shamming – goldbricking, as he called it.

His consciousness returned but he hesitated to open his eyes. The silence around him was broken only by an occasional echo of a distant sparking. He wasn't ready to think yet, so he instead focused on the pain signals coming from various parts of his body. After a moment of consideration, he decided that nothing was broken despite the all-over battering he felt. Though reluctant, he at last opened his eyes.

It was dark but not absolute. A steady bluish light was coming from somewhere, just enough for him to make out the devastation all around. Girders, frames, and piping lay in twisted piles all around or hung from ripped-open bulkheads. A few holographic computer consoles flickered, emitting weak light that was just enough to be noticed. Yet all was quiet.

Careful to avoid further taxing of his traumatized body, Commander John Shepard of the Alliance Navy and first human Spectre of the Citadel Council arose from the rubble. He turned and staggered through the debris towards the light. His momentum was slow, but despite the care he took his balance was still off. He tripped over his own feet and fell on an upturned beam, the scorched and shattered remains of his N7 armor the only thing keeping the sharp metal from skewering him.

Wincing, he climbed again to his feet and continued. He forced himself inch by painful inch over one last pile of rubble and stopped on the polished black floor stretched before him. The holographic console was still active, and beyond that was the huge window showcasing Earth floating in the blackness of space. Unbidden, everything came back in a mad rush of memory. The Reaper invasion. The assembled fleets of the galaxy. The Normandy. The battlefield hell of London. The last desperate push to the teleportation beam. The arrival of the Crucible. The revelations of the Catalyst…and that last, damnable choice.

He stood in silence before the panorama. Did it work? Was it over?

The insectoid Reapers could still be seen orbiting Earth, but everywhere he looked showed no sign of activity. On the darkened side of the planet before him he could see fires burning across the major metropolitan areas of Europe and North Africa. Even as he watched, one of the colossal Reapers in low orbit, caught by Earth's gravity, tumbled down to the planet's surface in a burning trail of fire and landed somewhere in the Mediterranean.

Shepard staggered onto the floor, ignoring the Reaper tech-infected body of the Illusive Man. There was little blood despite the gaping hole in the man's head from where he'd shot himself as a last act of defiance against his synthetic masters.

The wounded soldier collapsed on the floor beside the body of his fallen mentor, David Anderson. "We did it, sir," he whispered. "Wherever you are, I hope you can see it." He gazed out the window at the devastation that filled the sky. Dead Reapers, twisted remains of shattered cruisers, dreadnaughts, and fighters from the fleet. He knew there were bodies floating out there in the vacuum from many different species. They had won, but what a cost.

Tears filled his eyes and spilled down his stubble-covered cheeks for the first time in years. That conversation with the Catalyst was forever burned into his memory, and the consequences of his decision would haunt him for the rest of his life. Destroy, control, or synthesize? Had he made the right choice?

Controlling the Reapers was out of the question. Thousands had attacked Earth, and no less had attacked Palaven and Thessia. There was no telling how many more filled the galaxy. For good or evil, that level of power was too much for a single individual to possess. How long would it take after the galaxy was repaired from all the damage before he might begin using the Reapers as a peacekeeping force? No, down that road lay tyranny and damnation. He wasn't God. No matter how noble his intentions may be now, he was still mortal, still fallible.

The synthesis of organic and synthetic life, re-writing the DNA of every species in the galaxy? Again, he wasn't God. What right did he have to make that decision for each and every person? What happened to free will, a right given to every sapient being that not even God violated? And for what? To evolve? To reach the top? Then what? Life wasn't about arriving, it was about the journey. There should always be some new height to climb, some new way to grow. The alternatives were only stagnation and destruction. No, that was perhaps the worst thing he could do, despite what the Catalyst said. Maybe it was self-aware with an intellect that dwarfed the collective species of the galaxy, but it could not possibly understand the repercussions of what it suggested. Legion and EDI had both shown more understanding of what it meant to be alive than did the Catalyst.

There was but one choice in the end. And he had made it. It was the choice that brought the least damnation out of three that no one should have ever had to make. The Reapers were destroyed. And with them the geth. And EDI.

To save the galaxy he had committed xenocide twice over and murdered one of his closest friends.

He wept in unashamed grief for the lives he'd taken, for the relationships he'd broken. Legion, the geth who had achieved true sentience and laid down his own life so that his people could achieve theirs. Only to be destroyed just a few weeks later by the same man who had impacted Legion so deep. "I'm sorry, Legion," he said. "No, your people did not deserve to die." His friend's sacrifice allowed the geth to give new hope to the quarian, but who knew what would happen now?

Thinking of the quarian led him to the door of another memory, one that he'd been deliberate in keeping closed since he'd regained consciousness. He was still not ready to open it so he turned away.

EDI. The awakened AI on the Normandy. She was so eager to learn what it meant to be alive, always investigating, always learning. Her sense of humor kept getting sharper, her questions more probing and shrewd. He had encouraged her relationship with Joker, accepting her not only as a member of his crew but as a friend. She revealed to him that it was through his patient tutelage that she at last began feeling what it meant to be alive. And just like that, her life too would have been snuffed out, her relationship with Joker torn apart. She was synthetic, and the Catalyst was clear that all synthetic life would be destroyed, not just the Reapers.

How much more blood was on his hands? Did uniting the galaxy compensate for this last betrayal of friends and allies?

His shoulders heaved as he wept, pouring out his grief, loss, and betrayal. "God, please forgive me for what I've done," he sobbed.

Shepard had no idea how long he lay on the cold floor, but sometime later he sat up, feeling more composed. His body still ached but his heart was calm, and somehow he felt a little better. He allowed himself to go back to that door in his memory and open it.

Tali.

The woman he loved, Tali'zorah vas Normandy. The quarian engineer who had stolen his heart. That final, heart-wrenching goodbye as he touched his forehead to the top of her purple faceplate, the most intimate gesture he could give her while she wore her envirosuit. Her luminescent eyes visible in the shadows of her suit, wide and quivering with tears. Entrusting her to the care of his best friend, Garrus Vakerian.

"Keelah se'lai, Tali," he whispered. "I love you." Did she have any idea that he'd even survived the Reaper laser?

He turned and looked at Anderson's body. "I'm done, Admiral," he said. "I've done all anyone can be expected to do. The galaxy is going to have to learn to get along without me." He climbed to his feet and gave his mentor one last salute. "Goodbye, sir. It's been an honor."

He limped over to the console and pulled up a schematic of the Citadel. He was relieved to find that he wasn't far from the Huerta Memorial Hospital on the Presidium, though how much was left after the Reaper's takeover was anyone's guess. Still, life support seemed to still be operating, and the hospital was his best bet to finding medical supplies. He downloaded the map to his omni-tool and set out, recovering Anderson's pistol from the Illusive Man's corpse. His own had been lost after the explosion resulting from shooting the power conduit to the Crucible.

A half hour later, he stumbled out onto the Presidium commons. The tranquil setting was ravaged worse than it had been after the indoctrinated Saren had assaulted the Citadel with his geth army several years ago. The artificial sky overhead had lost power and was obscured by a dark orange haze of smoke reflecting the countless fires that still burned. Destruction lay as far as he could see through the gloom, and there wasn't a living soul anywhere. Yet, through all the devastation, there were still recognizable landmarks and store fronts. And there was still intermittent power. He did not hold out much hope that there would be any survivors, especially after stumbling across the remains of those damned husks. And worse.

Shepard made his way to an elevator. The hospital was overhead, or what was left of it. The elevator's power was off so he forced open the doors and faced an empty shaft. A service ladder was just inside the shaft. He gritted his teeth and swung inside, remembering another of his drill instructor's maxims: It's mind over matter, you filthy apes! If you don't mind, it don't matter! Pain is just weakness leaving your nasty bodies!

"Mind over matter," he grunted, pulling himself up the ladder. Unbidden, an image of Tali's beautiful face appeared in his mind, a memory of one of the few times he'd seen her without her mask. Her soft, pale skin called to him, a mischievous twinkle in her luminous eyes and an inviting smile on her lips. Her black, silky hair cascaded around her shoulders like an ebony waterfall, framing a lithe body that her envirosuit, form-fitting as it was, could not begin to do justice. She had risked sickness and death to be with him, but her system was adapting. Totally worth it, her words after that first magical night together still echoed in his mind. They were looking forward to more frequent contact with each other as her immune system adapted itself to him.

His only chance of ever making their dream a reality now was by getting up this ladder and into the hospital. Even though the hospital looked hit pretty hard, there was a good chance that he'd find at least some medi-gel to fix himself up. He pushed his aches and pains to the back of his mind and continued the climb.

He made it to the hospital's level without incident. He pried open the doors and to his relief found the main floor for the most part intact. Yet deserted. His mind flashed back to the piles of bodies he'd found after being teleported onto the Citadel and he felt a sick rage growing inside. "Fucking Reapers," he growled. His jaw clenched in anger, he searched the treatment rooms until he located a healthy stock of medi-gel. Good enough.

Shepard removed the battered remains of his armor and his shirt. He slathered the healing ointment onto the burns and gashes that covered his body, souvenirs of that last Reaper. The implants under his skin, courtesy of Cerberus, glowed a baleful orange under the healing scars. He winced as the cool gel stung his cuts and burns. After treating his wounds he swallowed an antibiotic and a mild painkiller, then climbed up onto a gurney and slept.

The nightmares were kept at bay by the lingering presence of a certain quarian engineer, his guardian angel in violet.

There was no telling how long he'd slept. He'd neglected to check his omni-tool's chronometer before falling asleep, but he awoke feeling more rested than he'd been since his house arrest. Checking the chronometer revealed that it was more than eighty-seven hours since they began the final dash to the beam.

By now he was sure the galaxy knew the war was over. He could only imagine the celebrations of the countless warriors and noncombatants across the galaxy, the horror of seeing their impending doom approaching evaporating in the blink of an eye as the colossal engines of death ceased functioning and fell over. Multitudes of fallen comrades would be mourned, to be sure, and countless memorials erected to honor the heroes who'd given their last full measure. He felt the urge to find an extranet terminal or comm unit, but at the same time he was reluctant to do so. He was serious when he told Anderson that he was done. As far as the Alliance and the rest of the galaxy was concerned, Commander John Shepard had given his life to take down the Reapers once and for all. At least he was sure that's what it would look like, and he had no intention of correcting that assumption.

He considered his options for a moment before sitting up and swinging his legs off the gurney. He felt a thousand times better, at least physically, and decided he was ready to find a way off the derelict space station. His stomach rumbled, reminding him that he also needed food. Cerberus may have been bastards, but the cybernetic implants from the Lazarus Project were amazing. He doubted he'd have survived at all, let alone recovered as fast had it not been for them.

Shepard walked over to his torn, bloodstained shirt, hesitating before pulling it on. He was gratified to discover that the only lingering effect from his ordeal was a general stiffness throughout his body. No fever, no pain. Fresh pink skin had already begun knitting itself together under the applied medi-gel, and while still tender to the touch he could tell his body would make a full recovery. Would his mind, though? His heart? That yet remained to be seen.

He picked up his battered N7 chest plate and gave it a long, contemplative look. In the end he decided to strap it back on. Maybe the Reapers were destroyed, but given the ruin of the Citadel it was still better to have some protection, limited as it may be. How much would it suck to survive the most devastating war in fifty thousand years only to be impaled by a piece of falling debris?

He clipped the pistol to his belt and returned to the elevator. It was a pleasant surprise to see the power was restored. While he waited for the car to arrive, he looked out the broken window to the Presidium stretched out below. The artificial sky had also been repaired, allowing a semblance of daylight to illuminate the landscape below, though the freeway along the inside curve of the sky was devoid of traffic. Fires still burned on both sides of the lake below, though not as many as had appeared in the darkness, and he could see wreckage and smoke for the entire span of the Presidium as it sloped upward and disappeared from view behind the hub.

Movement on the ground below caught his attention. The enigmatic Keepers were hard at work, clearing bodies and debris, and initiating repairs. He had no doubt that reconstruction was underway in the Ward arms as well.

The elevator arrived and he chose the Embassy level. No doubt it too was deserted, but the Spectre office should still be available. It was a hardened site, offering full protection complete with secure extranet access. That would be the most likely place to find out news, get cleaned up, and restock his supplies. He should also be able to find out if any ships were still docked.

He found a smashed vending kiosk in the wreckage of the embassy suites lobby and grabbed several preserved meal and a bottle of water. He gulped the food down as he walked, caring only that it fueled his body. He made his way through the rubble to the door of the Spectre office. As he hoped, the holographic door lock was glowing, indicating full power inside. He activated his omni-tool and matched his personal key to the lock. The doors slid apart. "Spectre status recognized," a synthesized voice intoned.

The dim office was unscathed. As the doors closed behind him, a sense of calm fell over him for the first time since their shore-leave. He glanced towards the terminal bank but decided that information could wait. A shower room abutted the shooting range, so after relieving himself he stripped out of his clothes and enjoyed a long soak in the hot spray. The dirt, grime, and blood washed off his body and swirled away down the drain, but the burn scars still remained. He could live with that. If only the memories could wash away as quickly.

He found a fresh utility uniform in his locker and donned it, and for a moment could almost forget the horrors of the last four years. As he walked past the range's entrance, though, his eyes were drawn to the weapons and armor lockers. He almost went past anyway, but turned back with a sigh and entered the range. The fact was, he just didn't feel comfortable in an unknown environment without his trusty N7 armor and full combat kit. And a ruined Citadel was as unknown an environment as any he'd explored.

Fifteen minutes later, fully armed and armored, he left the range and returned to the comm terminal. Despite the fresh feel after his shower, his mind felt completely drained of energy. The war was over but the cost was almost too great to bear. He was certain the battle-weary fighters of all species were still celebrating, and to be honest he couldn't bear the thought of taking that away from them. No, as far as anyone knew the Crucible had operated just as designed. The knowledge of that damnable choice would have to die with him. The thought of facing Tali and explaining how he had condemned her people to at least one more generation of being forced to wear those hated envirosuits unnerved him. He didn't think he could ever face Joker again, let alone tell him he knowingly made the decision to kill the woman he loved.

Perhaps it would be best if his friends thought him dead too. He could at least let them remember him as a hero rather than the train wreck he could feel he was becoming. He would spare them that, if he could. God knew the galaxy would need heroes to honor as civilization was rebuilt. Yet if he received one parade, one medal or commendation, even a bloody salute, he felt he was liable to shoot someone.

He shook his head. No, that wouldn't be fair to them. They had all stood by him, risking their lives for him on countless missions. Perhaps he was the face of his team, perhaps he was the one to whom credit was given, but he knew in his heart that the only reason he'd succeeded was because of an outstanding crew that happened to transcend all species. The unity he'd helped forge was unprecedented, and so was their success. No, as painful as it was, he could not turn away from them. He'd never been one to wallow in misery, nor to back away from a challenge. He wasn't about to start now, at least as far as those people who were closer than a family were concerned. They deserved to know he was alive, especially Tali. He felt ashamed of himself for even considering to let them think he was dead. He just didn't know yet how he could face them. So many billions of people had died, yet he somehow lived on.

It was bad enough when he'd left Kaiden Alenko, his former XO, on Virmire three years ago to detonate that nuke. He'd been a wreck after that, but he remembered that his crew never once blamed him. They knew that he'd been faced with the impossible choice of deciding to turn back and save Alenko when his position was assaulted by the heretic geth or to continue on and rescue Ashley Williams and the team of salarians she was supplementing. In the end, Alenko started the detonation sequence early, insuring the destruction of the facility but preventing Shepard from coming back for him after evacuating Williams and the salarians. As it was, the first Normandy just barely escaped the blast wave intact. Alenko was a hero – he sacrificed his own life to insure not only the completion of the mission but the safety of his crewmates.

More recently, his friend Mordin gave his life to disperse the cure for the genophage his own people had created against the krogans. The salarian politicians of course decried his actions, but the gratitude of the krogans was just as fervent. Urdnot Wrex wasn't the only krogan to name his firstborn "Mordin." Despite the salarian's cold, terse demeanor, Shepard began to see the man underneath during that raid on Tuchanka last year. Seeing the atrocities done to the krogan "test subjects" by his former student and the rebel clan was difficult, yet the knowledge that the younger salarian was, in his own way, trying to atone for the horror his people had inflicted on the krogan convinced Mordin and Shepard that the research was worth saving. And it was from that same research that Mordin was able to build a cure that reversed the genophage, thereby desterilizing the krogan people and giving them new hope. Mordin was a hero – he dispersed the cure, reversing his people's crime, as the battle between a Reaper and that titanic thresher maw raged outside.

Shepard still had nightmares about that. He'd killed thresher maws before, but only one on foot – the rest of the time was from the relative safety and superior firepower of the armored Mako – and none came anywhere near the size of that one on Tuchanka. It had taken out the Reaper unassisted, but the struggle weakened the foundation of the Shroud. Mordin was able to release the cure but the building collapsed around him as he tried to leave.

Thane Krios, the drell assassin. He had no idea how many lives the man had taken, and yet he had never in his life met someone of more devout faith. Not even Ash, who was not reluctant in the slightest to discuss her belief in God, was more earnest in her prayers. Despite his growing weakness from Kepral's Syndrome, Krios had been instrumental in both notifying Shepard about the Cerberus attack on the Citadel and helping him save the life of the salarian counselor. He'd been mortally wounded by the Cerberus agent, Kai Leng, during that battle. Facing Kai Leng at Cronos Station when he and his crew took down Cerberus headquarters not that long ago was satisfying. He could still see the look of shocked surprise on Kai Leng's face as he spun around right when he was about to be run through, broke the assassin's sword, and rammed his omni-blade straight through the man's gut. That was for Thane, you son of a bitch. And yet, he wondered if Thane really would have wanted him to dedicate the kill to his memory. As he had lain on his deathbed, the drell's final prayers were not for his own soul, but Shepard's. Thane was a hero – instead of accepting a quiet death in a hospital wing, he gave his life to protect the lives of others.

He again thought of EDI, the shipboard AI of the second Normandy. It had come as a shock that Cerberus installed an AI on his ship, leashed or not, but she proved her worth time and again during the period he worked with the renegade outfit. In the end, her loyalty lay with Shepard and the Normandy's crew instead of with her "creators." It was another shock to discover more recently that she was originally the rogue VI program he'd fought on Luna during his hunt for Saren. Despite the violence of her initial awakening, despite the programming of Cerberus, her growth into true self-awareness was a thing of beauty, as was her love for Joker. Yet despite her romantic feelings for the Normandy's smartass helmsman, she held an affection for Shepard that was more like a daughter to a father. And the fact was, he felt the same towards her. EDI was a hero – working continually to monitor the various assault teams and conducting electronic warfare to shut down various enemy computer systems, she protected the Normandy's crew to the best of her abilities while never ceasing in her desire to grow and understand what it meant to be alive.

The liberation of Rannoch weighed the heaviest of all on his heart. Those last terror-filled minutes as they took out a Reaper were bad enough, but the sudden precipice on which he found himself where he brokered a true peace between the geth and the quarians was even worse. The battle that was about to break out – one which would have resulted in the annihilation of one people and the crippling of another – was brought home by the sudden hostility between Legion and Tali. She had come such a long way since he'd known her, at last accepting Legion as a trusted crewmate if not a friend, despite the fact that he was geth. Yet with the lives of her people potentially at stake, she was ready to gun him down in cold blood. But Legion had a valid claim as well – with true self-awareness, the geth would have new life as a people. The geth were victims as much as anyone else. First by the quarians three hundred years earlier, who panicked when the geth – Legion himself, actually – first became self-aware. In their panic the long-gone generation of quarians tried to destroy their creations with a single-mindedness that rivaled and sometimes even surpassed that of the Nazis in twentieth-century Earth. Many innocent quarians who opposed the termination of the geth were caught in the crossfire as well. More recently, the Reapers, preying on the synthetic nature of the geth, all but enslaved them, using Legion himself as the means to infect the entire geth people with their corrupt programming. It was only through the timely intervention of Shepard, Tali, and Garrus Vakerian that Legion was freed.

He could still feel that looming despair and rage as everything teetered on a razor's edge. He'd known even then that if either side started shooting, the entire quarian fleet would be wiped out – and that would mean the death of the entire quarian people. Sure, they'd be able to do critical damage to the geth fleet, but the fact was that the quarians were seriously outclassed. Somehow he'd managed to take control of the deteriorating situation and force a cease-fire, not only between his two friends but between the two fleets overhead. Legion cooperated immediately, but it took a few tense moments before the last of the quarian admirals submitted to the weight of his authority – and then only because it was backed with Tali's own authority as an admiral herself.

As both sides stood down, Legion began the upload of data that would disperse through the entire geth nation, granting them true self-awareness and individuality without the taint of the Reaper indoctrination. No longer would they be a collective mind but a nation of individuals, each with unique thoughts, goals, and dreams. At the very end of the upload, Legion realized that he would have to disperse the two thousand programs that comprised himself if the data was going to have the desired effect. An incomplete upload would leave the geth vulnerable again, rendering them susceptible to the corrupting influence of the Reapers. Without hesitation, Legion sacrificed his own programming, pausing just long enough to bid farewell to Shepard and Tali. His self-sacrifice touched even Tali's heart, causing her to weep for the death of a being she would have destroyed with a clear conscience just a year earlier. Legion was a hero – he willingly gave up his own future so his people could have one.

And with one decision, Shepard rendered his friend's sacrifice irrelevant. With that same decision he sentenced another friend to death, a friend as close as a daughter. And he survived. Some hero he was.

With a sigh, he pushed away his self-loathing for a moment. He wasn't able to proactively deal with it right now, but he was able to lock it away for the time being. Making his way to a still-functioning console, he pulled up the latest Battlescape report.

Diane Allers looked a lot wearier than her normal scrubbed appearance, and she sported a couple of fresh scraped and bruises on her otherwise perfectly made-up face. The chief difference was in her eyes. They no longer sparkled but were instead tired and sad. The report was brief, and while none of the crew were interviewed it was good to see them all in the background as they worked to repair the damaged Normandy. Especially Tali. Knowing her as well as he did, Shepard could see that she was moving with a manic, almost desperate energy that nonetheless wasted no unnecessary motion.

There wasn't much to the report other than the cautious hope that the war was over, that though the Normandy was damaged the crew was okay, and an uncertain but optimistic outlook on the future. Yet there was no mention of either Shepard or EDI, nor was there a celebratory tone of any kind. Allers sounded drained, a tone Shepard had never before heard in her voice.

Seeing the rest of his crew alive and well solidified his resolve. He knew that his entire crew needed to know that he was still alive, and not just the current crew of the Normandy. They'd followed him into the mouth of hell time and again to spit in the devil's eye, knowing that with each mission it could very well be the last. Only love could generate that kind of loyalty – from Zaeed Massani, the hard-boiled merc, to Jack, the biotic prodigy who used her foul mouth and countless tattoos to disguise her heart of gold. Garrus, the deadly, soft-spoke turian who was his best friend. Miranda Lawson, the cold-hearted Cerberus operative who brought him back to life on the orders of the Illusive Man, to whom she had once been fanatically loyal, only to turn her back on the organization and its ideals after she saw its true motives at the Collector base beyond the Omega 4 Relay. Liara T'soni, the beautiful asari who had almost captured his heart in his first life. Who knows what might have happened had he not died? But he had, and two years was time enough for her to move on. She'd been overjoyed to see him alive again, but they could both tell it would never be the same again. She was still one of his closest friends, and more importantly loved Tali like a sister. Never once had he seen any jealousy between the two. Jacob Taylor. Wrex. Grunt. Kasumi Goto. Javik. Ash. Samara. James Vega. Doctor Chakwas. Joker. Greg Adams. Steve Cortez. Kelly Chambers. Samantha Traynor. Ken Donnelly and Gabby Daniels.

The thing was, he loved each and every one of his crew as well, regardless of species. That alone was enough of a reason to not leave them in the dark. He owed them all so much more than he could ever repay, the least he could do was give them peace of mind. They deserved that much. The rest of the galaxy could fend for itself.

He opened the message terminal and paused, considering. He decided to send each of his friends a personal letter, letting them know his situation and his plans. He could do that much for sure, and after he'd had time to recover mentally, emotionally, and spiritually perhaps he could seek them out for a true reunion.

As for Tali… He smiled, the first genuine smile he could recall giving since he'd last seen her. Just thinking about her was like balm for his soul. He was still determined to drop off the grid, but he would give her the option of coming with him.

He began a new message to her, pouring out his heart and soul to her, sharing his grief and pain, though not going into the details of his sins. Those wounds were still too raw for him to share.

"Spectre status recognized."

He was so engrossed in his letter that Spectre office VI's soft voice didn't register with him. The next voice, though, broke through his concentration and brought him back to his surroundings.

"Turn around slowly, and keep your hands where I can see them." A very familiar voice, one he wasn't quite sure he was ready to hear.

Heart thudding, he shuffled around, keeping his hands open and spread out. He could hear her sigh of relief from across the room. "Shepard. It is you."

"Hey, Ash," he said, his voice cracking.

"John!" another voice called out, the one he missed more than any other. At that moment all the horror and guilt he'd been holding at bay crashed through his emotional barriers and overwhelmed him. His knees gave way as Tali burst in and ran over to him. Within moments she was on her knees before him, holding his head to her chest as he silently wept, broad shoulders quaking as he held her for dear life.

Ashley Williams stepped back and turned to Garrus, Liara, and Vega. "Give them a few moments," she said. Concern battled relief on her face. There was a time long past that she would have given anything to be the one comforting him now, but that ship had sailed years ago. Alliance regulations were explicit about there being no fraternization within the chain of command, and she had reluctantly swallowed her own feelings as initially Liara and Shepard grew closer. She'd moved on after his death, and seeing him again not only alive but working with Cerberus had unnerved her. She eventually got over her concerns, especially after seeing firsthand that Shepard was the same man she'd once known – more stern, darker even, and for certain more tired, but still the same idealistic warrior she'd come to know and love during the hunt for Saren.

It seemed that Tali had recognized that fact quicker than anyone else. A part of her was jealous that the quarian woman had the opportunity to serve with him during the investigation into the Collectors, but seeing Shepard's devotion to her – far and away beyond that of his former relationship with Liara – and hers to him made it apparent that they were made for each other.

Their relationship made her feel a little ashamed as well. She used to be a xenophobe – there was no denying it. Seeing how Shepard never once let a person's species interfere with his regard had caused her to question her stance. His becoming involved with Liara, though, shattered all of her prejudices. As much regard as she had for Shepard, it was either rethink her life or hate him – and she couldn't bring herself to do that. Slowly, she began looking at other species through different eyes.

When she heard that Shepard had entered a relationship with Tali, though, she was well and truly amazed. It spoke volumes about the depth of his character, that not only could he fall in love with a woman he'd literally never seen before, as much as they'd done together, but that he could love her enough to stay with her despite the infrequent physical contact they were forced by necessity to endure. Not to mention the fact that he, Shepard, was perhaps the most iconic face of the war, the most revered person in the galaxy, and he openly loved a quarian woman – a member of one of the most ridiculed, despised, and persecuted peoples of the galaxy. The words "suit rat" – a vicious, disparaging epithet regarding the envirosuits all quarians were forced to wear due to their hyper-weakened immune systems – had indeed passed Williams' lips, and more than once. Never once had she heard Shepard utter those words. And the fact that he was able to look past cultural hate and prejudice to see the beautiful woman that was Tali'zorah vas Normandy threw the entire galaxy into consternation. Despite her own feelings for Shepard, Ashley thought it was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.

The others nodded as Williams joined them, their relief evident. They were all eager to see him, but all understood the need for Shepard to be alone with Tali for a few minutes. Out of respect they withdrew downstairs to the embassy lobby where they patiently waited.

Besides, it wasn't like they were on a timetable anymore.

-PUTP-

Tali's heart broke as the man she loved fell apart in her arms. The anguish he vented was on a soul-crushing level – she'd never once seen him in such a state, not even in those last few weeks leading up to the final showdown with the Reapers, when existence as they all knew it hung in the balance. She was confused as well. John had won a legendary victory against all odds – and survived. Shouldn't he be more triumphant? At least happy the war was over and he was still alive, with her? But his eyes were filled with a despair she'd never seen before.

"Oh, John," she whispered, her heart in her voice. Knowing full well her body would punish her later for exposing herself to an unsterile environment, she removed the lavender visor from her suit. He looked up into her face through tear-filled eyes, hesitant, almost scared of her reaction. Never once did she flinch from the healing ruin of his face. Instead, she favored him with a gentle smile, unconditional love filling her luminous eyes. She cupped his cheek over one of the worst of the jagged scars, caressing the cheekbone with her thumb. "I love you, John," she said, her voice low and soothing. "No matter what. I am yours and you are mine, and if I have anything to say about it I'm never leaving your side again."

"I love you too, Tali," he whispered. He closed his eyes and leaned into her palm, his hands never leaving her waist. He wanted to protest, to make her put her faceplate back on so she wouldn't get sick, but he knew she'd ignore him. And the fact was, he felt like a sheep could kick his ass right now.

Tali could feel her nose starting to clog up and knew she'd have to get her suit put back together soon. She swore under her breath in frustration, longing for the day none of those precautions needed to be taken, when her immune system was strong enough to handle whatever life threw at her. Hell, she'd settle for being able to unveil herself to John for as long as they both wanted, to enjoy skin-to-skin contact all the time without worrying about sterilizing the room first or depending on tactile stimulators.

She leaned down and pressed her soft lips to John's, tasting the saltiness of his tears. They enjoyed the kiss for several glorious moments before she reluctantly pulled back and reattached her visor. "Let's go home, my love," she said, helping him to his feet.

The couple left the Spectre office together, Shepard's arm draped around Tali's shoulder. They went down to the lobby where their companions waited for them.

Garrus and James were talking about something or other in low voices while Ashley stood nearby half-listening, half lost in thought. Liara was the first to notice the two as they reached the stairwell, and she immediately came over to meet them. "My friends," she said, taking their hands. "Thank the Goddess you're safe, Shepard." Unshed tears glistened in her eyes, though her loving smile was warm and genuine. "I've been praying nonstop for your survival."

"Thanks, Liara," Shepard said, his voice quiet. "Your prayers must have been heard. I have no idea how else I could've made it other than God's help, even with the implants."

The asari's brow creased ever so slightly. His tone sounded sincere, yet there was something not quite right. She looked askance at Tali, who gave her a helpless shrug. His girlfriend was just as lost as she was. "Shepard, I may be able to help if you'll join your mind to mine again," she offered.

She was stunned as he flinched, a look of panic flashing across his face. "No thanks," he said. His voice was calm despite the emotion that crossed his features. He'd never before refused to join her in a mind link, even when they were just starting to get to know each other on the Saren missions. What in the Name of the Goddess happened to him?

Seeing the hurt and confusion on her face, he sighed. "I'm sorry, Liara," he said. "Your gift of memory was precious to me, and I'm honored by your friendship and desire to help me. I'm not ready for that right now, though. Maybe later, after I've had time to process things."

Liara nodded as Tali gave her hand a sympathetic squeeze. "Very well, then," she replied. "The invitation stands, whenever you're ready."

The others had joined them by this point. "Holy shit, Loco," Vega said, taking in his CO's battered appearance for the first time. "I didn't mean for you to take that nickname literally every time you go fight."

Shepard nodded, giving Vega a weak smile. "Guess I've just gotten used to doing things that way," he said.

"You may want to rethink your tactics," Garrus said with his usual dry humor. "You look like you volunteered to be a varren's chew toy."

"Just trying to give you a chance with the ladies, buddy," Shepard replied. His tone was joking but his friends could all tell it was somewhat forced. "Had to damn near blow myself up to do it, but I finally found a way to look uglier than you."

"Please," the battle-scarred turian scoffed. "Everyone knows that women like scars. They're like tattoos but with much better stories. That has given me the distinct advantage every time we've gone out for the past two years."

"Not that he was looking for women, you bosh'tet," Tali interjected as she snuggled as close as she could to her man. His arm tightened around her shoulders in response.

"Seriously, it's good to have you back, Shepard," Garrus said. "I would've stayed with you to the end, you know."

"I know." Shepard reached out and gripped the turian's hand. "You got Tali to safety, though. That's a debt I can never repay, my friend."

"You would've done the same for me, brother." Garrus stepped forward and pulled Shepard and Tali into a firm embrace.

"For any one of us," Williams added.

"You have a gift, Shepard," Liara said. "You inspire people to greatness, to work together regardless of species. You alone united an entire galaxy, and you've proven your worth time and time again. You've brought out the best in each of us, believed in us as we could be, and pushed us to believe in ourselves the same way. That's why we love you, and that's why we'll follow you into hell and back."

Shepard closed his eyes and accepted the support of his friends. There was so much he wanted to say, but the words stuck in his throat. He still wasn't sure that he was ready to face them all, but he also felt they deserved for him not to flee from them.

"Guys," he said, his voice low, "thanks for coming to get me. Please do me a favor, though. Don't let on to Alliance Command that you found me. Let everyone think I gave my life to save the galaxy and let that be the end of it."

A perplexed silence met his plea as they considered his words. "What's goin on, Loco?" Vega said at length.

Shepard shook his head. "I'm done," he said. "I've given more than anyone should ever be expected to – hell, I was dead once already. The Reapers are gone now. Cerberus is gone. The Collectors are gone. All that's left are the people of the galaxy. I don't want to be a symbol for anyone, I just want to live out the rest of my life in quiet while everyone else gets on with their lives."

"Shepard," Garrus said, "you know the Alliance is going to want the Normandy back once the fleet reassembles. She's too valuable a ship to just give away to us, even if we are the best damn crew for her."

"That's fine," Shepard said. "They can have her so long as they take care of her. Just…drop me off at my place on Intai'sei. It's secluded enough that I should be able to stay off the radar. And please, not a word to anyone."

Tali looked up at him but her expression was unreadable behind her faceplate. There was, however, a sudden tension in her shoulders. Williams was the one who spoke. Her voice was calm but he could tell she was pissed. "So, let me get this straight," she said. "We bust our collective asses to get the Normandy flying again so we can find out for sure whether you're still alive or not, fly into a debris field with a ship that's just operational enough to do the job, search the wreckage of a space station built to house millions of people, actually find you in the midst of said wreckage, give you a way off the station, and you respond by asking us to drop you off and forget you're still alive? Really? Is there something I'm missing here? Cause right now you're starting to act like a selfish asshole, and that's something I never thought I'd see."

His shoulders sagged as he stared at the deck. "Guys, I'm sorry," he said. "Of course you're all welcome to come by anytime. It's just…" He shook his head again. "It's too much right now. I can't go back to the Service."

"We can't go to Intai'sei anyway," Garrus said. "All the mass relays were severely damaged when your kill signal went out. It's going to take months at least before they're working again. Fortunately the comm buoys are still functioning so we can coordinate–"

"Alright, that's enough!" Tali snapped. Her concern for her boyfriend grew with each passing moment, even if he was behaving like a bosh'tet. No one else could see it, but John was on the brink of a full meltdown. Something was eating him inside – no, more like devouring – and Garrus' words, nonjudgmental as they were, only added to the weight John carried. "Now is not the time for this," she went on. "We need to get back to the ship and off this station. Garrus, have Joker set a course for Mars – there shouldn't be anyone at the research station there, and I'm sure we could all use a rest. We'll get this sorted out later." Without waiting for any acknowledgment she stalked off towards the lift, forcing Shepard to move with her or be dragged. He could hear her muttering under her breath about "bosh'tets" and "can't see what's right in front of their noses." It almost made him smile. This feisty young woman was far removed from the idealistic, naïve girl on Pilgrimage he'd met all those years ago.

The rest of the team followed behind, each lost in his or her own thoughts. What happened to Shepard? He was not the same man who had led that suicidal assault against the Reaper forces in London scant days ago.

They arrived at the landing platform where Steve Cortez waited with the Normandy's shuttle. As the familiar vessel came into view, Shepard involuntarily tensed. "Tali…" he whispered, his voice pleading.

She stopped and motioned for the others to go on ahead. As Garrus passed by, she grabbed his arm. "Garrus, I want a complete communication blackout," she said. "Make sure Allers knows it as well. No signal is to leave the ship until John says otherwise."

The turian nodded in agreement and continued to the shuttle. Shepard observed the exchange with surprise. Not because Garrus was so agreeable but that Tali commanded so much more authority than before. Garrus was his XO, a battle-hardened warrior who took on the three biggest, most ruthless criminal gangs on Omega Station at once and almost singlehanded, yet he submitted to Tali as if it was the most natural thing in the world – as did the others.

She turned to face him, cupping his face in her three-fingered hands. "My love," she said, her voice like the gentle breeze on Rannoch, "I can tell you're in pain right now. I don't know what happened here, and I don't care. You can tell me or not, it's your choice. I will not leave you, no matter what you decide, no matter what you did, no matter what happened to you. Look, we'll go straight up to our cabin when we get onboard. You won't have to talk to anyone. You'll be safe there with me, and I can take this blasted suit off for a little while. We'll go wherever you need to, and I'll be there at your side." She touched her suit-clad forehead to his, one of the most intimate gestures possible to a people confined to living in envirosuits for the entirety of their lives.

He wanted to open up right there, to share everything on his heart. But the emotions were too raw, the trauma too recent. How could he tell her that he was the worst mass murderer in history? That he had singlehandedly wiped out two entire species? True, one species he didn't give a shit about at all, and good riddance to them all. But the other… And if that wasn't enough, he could lay the death of a friend they had all come to know and love on top of that pyre of death. He couldn't burden her with that, not now. What kind of love was that? Still, he appreciated her words, her devotion that backed them up, and the simple fact of her presence. The least he could do was to go with her. He took a deep breath and nodded, though he still felt apprehension gnawing at his gut. "Thank you, Tali," he said. "I'm ready now. I think."

Her luminous eyes peered up at him through the lavender glass of her visor for several more moments before she nodded and dropped her hands. "I love you, John," she said. "You know that I'm here for you, right?"

He smiled at her, a genuine smile from his heart despite his anguish. "I do," he said. "Just as I am for you. And I love you too."

Tali put her arms around him and lay her head on his chest. "You'd better," she said. "I'm not putting myself through all this misery of adjusting my immune system for anyone else. But you're worth it."

"Totally?"

"Totally, you goof." He couldn't see her smile but it was evident in her voice.

Taking a deep breath, he approached the shuttle with the woman he loved and together they boarded.

Someone must have said something to Cortez because the shuttle pilot did nothing more than glance back from the cockpit and say, "Welcome back, Commander." He could have simply been greeting Shepard after a routine mission. Nobody else said anything, but the silence was companionable, not frigid. Even Williams nodded politely to him as their eyes met, no longer looking so upset.

He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. His emotions were in tatters at this point. He gave up trying to keep it all together and instead just emptied his mind, taking a measure of comfort in the feel of Tali's warm hand clasped in his own. Even with his eyes closed he could tell when the shuttle lifted off the pad and again when it passed into vacuum. Less than two minutes later he could discern from the slight changes in momentum that they were entering the Normandy's shuttle bay. As always, Cortez executed a perfect smooth landing, but without Vega's usual needling.

He opened his eyes as the shuttle came to a stop. Rising to his feet with Tali, he stood in front of the hatch as it opened. "Thanks, Steve," he said to the pilot.

Cortez nodded but didn't do anything else other than give Shepard a look of sympathy mixed with concern. When the hatch opened he stepped down to the deck, bracing himself for the inevitable questions, salutes, and welcomes.

Surprisingly, there were none. Looking around, he frowned as he noticed the absence of all personnel from the shuttle bay and armory areas.

"Cortez probably sent word ahead," Tali whispered. "That was decent of him."

The familiar sights, smells, and sounds of the ship that had been his home in one incarnation or another for the past several years washed over him, bringing with them a host of memories. Battles won, friendships grown, comrades lost…and the love of a lifetime found. Despite the turmoil he felt inside, here was safety, here was home. As he reminisced he dropped off his weapons at his locker and stripped off his N7 armor. Hopefully he'd never have to wear it again, but he knew it would be much better to have it just in case.

Garrus, Liara, and Ashley stood a respectful distance away as the quarian engineer gently prodded her man to the lift. Vega crossed the bay to his station and began stripping off his own armor while Cortez began his post-flight checklist.

The lift doors opened and Shepard stepped woodenly inside, head bowed and turned away from everyone. Tali stepped in behind him. She glanced back at the others and dipped her head as if to tell them not to worry before sliding her arm around her boyfriend's shoulders. Lost in his memories, he flinched at the unexpected contact – not much, but just enough that she noticed. "Oh, John," she whispered as she wrapped him in her embrace. "I would give anything to carry this burden for you."

He gave her a stricken look. "Please don't ever say that again, Tali," he said. "I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy." He lapsed into silence again, staring at the wall of the elevator with a moody expression on his face. He did pull her close, though, so despite her raging curiosity she bit her tongue and just focused on filling his spirit with her love.

The doors opened again on the top deck where the cabin they shared was located. Even though it was technically the captain's cabin, which meant that as XO Garrus was entitled to stay there while Shepard was MIA, not a single crewmember begrudged Tali the right to stay there. She'd spent every moment there that she wasn't supervising repairs, and every time she was there she'd spent the entire time out of her suit. The first day she'd had a rather severe reaction, but with continued exposure to the quarters, a dedicated regimen of antibiotics and dietary supplements, not to mention a complete sterilization of the quarters before she doffed her suit that first evening alone, her hyper-sensitive immune system had adjusted to the point that she could spend eight hours or so unprotected with no major reactions.

With a gentle tug she guided him to their cabin. He couldn't help glancing at the alcove to the left as they entered their quarters. His eyes welled up again as they rested on the darkened interface where he'd held many a conversation with EDI before she'd gained her mobile platform. He quickly turned and followed Tali down the steps into the main cabin. The huge aquarium on the portside bulkhead bubbled away, casting a blue glow over the room. He glanced around, unsure what to do. Everything was the same as before, yet at the same time it all held an unnerving unfamiliarity, almost as if it all was from a different life. In a sense it was, he realized.

"Why don't you go lie down, John?" Tali invited. Despite the slight mechanical distortion of her mask, her love and concern was clear in her voice.

He nodded and stepped towards the bed without saying a word. She stopped him with a light touch on his arm, and without saying a word faced him and began lifting his shirt. He stared at her for a moment, his face neutral, before lifting his arms and allowing her to slide the garment off over his head. She held him close, resting her head on his bare chest, before giving him a gentle push back to their bed.

"I'll be right back," she whispered.

He nodded and swung his feet up onto the mattress before laying back on his pillow. Overhead, the stars burned in the distance through the skylight. He stared up into eternity, feeling the vastness as he never had before. Did any of this matter? Such viciousness, such waste, here and gone in the blink of an eye. Even the asari who lived a thousand years were but mayflies against the cosmic scale. People fought and died, lived and loved, built kingdoms and toppled empires, yet the stars burned on. What did it all mean? Was there a purpose? What would it all matter when the last star in the universe at long last burned itself out? When nothing was left but the cold void, empty of all but the frozen husks of countless trillions of worlds?

The faith of his childhood ran deep even though he rarely had time to attend worship services anymore. According to the Bible he still carried from assignment to assignment, God had a plan and a purpose for every person. When galactic civilization had been discovered, many people on Earth of all religions underwent a crisis of faith. Humans were no longer the center of all creation, something none of the sacred texts could fully rationalize. Shepard himself had never really questioned it. God, as he understood, was the creator of the universe and all that was within it. If sapient life was present, it stood to reason that the God he worshipped was their creator as well.

But if God truly cared for his creation, why did he allow abominations like the Reapers to exist? Why didn't he do something about it?

"He did do something about it, John."

He looked up, startled, not realizing he'd voiced his thoughts aloud.

Tali stood at the foot of his bed, wearing nothing but a light cotton robe. Her silky, indigo hair was damp against the pale lavender of her skin from the quick shower she must have just taken, and Shepard realized he hadn't even heard the water running. Her luminous eyes were warm and compassionate, and her smile was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. She reached out with her slender, three-fingered hands and took his as he sat up.

"What do you mean?" he whispered.

She squeezed his hands and her smile grew even deeper, even more loving. His heart started to race as he met her gaze, staring deep into the mysterious white orbs of her eyes. "He made you, my love." She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, closing her eyes as they both savored their kiss.

Tali sat down on the bed beside Shepard and reclined on her side, propping her head up with one arm. He shifted around so that he could face her sitting cross-legged as he held on to her other hand.

"I didn't think quarians believed in God," he said.

"I've watched you ever since I've known you," Tali replied. "Your faith in your God has always intrigued me. You walked your talk, and your faith made all the difference in how you looked at the universe." She pondered for a moment. "It made a difference to me," she said at last.

He shook his head. "Tali, I'm not sure what I believe anymore. After Cerberus brought me back…"

"I understand," she said. "I don't see how anyone could experience that and not be changed. I can see how you're different, John. Harder. Not as easygoing as you used to be. More prone to violence, even – I never saw you beating husks with your fists when we were hunting for Saren. But your heart never changed, love. You always took the high road, the way of honor."

"To what end, Tali? What does any of it mean?" He stood up and walked over to the giant aquarium adorning his cabin. "What good to take the high road when it all ends in ash? I believe in the God that made all this, but I don't understand how he could let Reapers even be made!"

Tali stood and joined him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "I've read some of your Bible, and I've read some of the Christian writers from your world. From what I understand, it's all about free will. That's possibly one of the greatest gifts he gave us, but it also has the potential to be abused with terrible consequence."

He turned around and faced her, a look of amazement on his face. "You have taken this seriously," he said. "Why?"

"Like I said, you've made a difference to me," she replied. "John, the closest my people have to a religion is an occasional prayer to our ancestors to watch over us. If their spirits do linger on to give us protection and guidance, then they haven't done an impressive job, have they? Look at our history! What kind of guidance did they provide when we panicked and tried to destroy the geth when they became self-aware? What did that get us? I'll tell you what it got us – quarians murdering quarians, a lost war, exile from our homeworld, and having to spend our entire lives in those damned envirosuits. Not to mention being despised and discriminated against by every other sapient species in the galaxy." She looked away, her eyes moist. "If they are there, then they're bosh'tets, the lot of them."

Shepard pulled her close, not knowing what else to do.

"Anyway," she went on, "it all hit home when we got our homeworld back. The ancestors had nothing to do with it. If anything, they would've hastened our extinction in a useless bloody battle. The admirals would have fought the geth bravely and gone down in flames, our ancestors' names on their lips." She looked up at Shepard as her eyes filled with tears and began running down her cheeks. "It was you, John. The lines were drawn, the first shots fired, and we all stood on the brink of death. I've never been more scared in my life. And then you spoke up. I'm sure every one of our admirals, even the most stubborn bosh'tets among them, believed you would have pulled them out of the afterlife just to beat the hell out of them before sending them back. You saved us, not our ancestors. You have a force of command about you that compels people to obey, yet you never come across as a bully. It's like you've been given authority naturally – and after the reading I've done I have to conclude that the kind of authority you have can only be given by God.

"I don't know what our religious heritage is beyond homage to our ancestors. We lost so much when we were driven from our homeworld. One of the books I read, Mere Christianity, showed me the logic of your faith, but it was seeing the difference it made in you and what that meant for the galaxy that showed me the truth of your faith. And once I understood the truth I became a believer."

Shepard felt a wave of shame and guilt wash over him. It gratified him to hear her words, but he felt like a fraud. It had taken such a long time but he'd finally accepted that synthetics could have a soul. He didn't know how it was possible, any more than he knew how an infant gained that spark of awareness called life, but after hours of conversing with EDI and Legion both he could tell that there was much more to them than could be explained by simple programming.

And that made him a murderer.

Sure, it was to save the galaxy from the Reapers, a fate worse than death, but it was still murder. And the hell of it was, he'd do it again given the circumstances. Far better for his own soul to be damned than for the innocents of the galaxy to be condemned to the nightmare awaiting them through the Reapers.

But how to address Tali's belief in him? He loved her too much to let her believe a lie, yet newfound faith was inevitably shakier than faith seasoned and tested through trial and adversity. And to tell the truth, his own faith was pretty shaky right now. God, if you really exist, if you still care about us, please give me the right words to say to her, he prayed in silence. We need some kind of miracle. Not for my sake, but hers. Please…just take care of Tali. Not knowing what else to say or do, he simply held the woman he loved, resigned to whatever fate the future had in store.

Sensing his turmoil, Tali returned his embrace, silently echoing his prayers with her own. She was so happy that John was still alive, and her newfound faith filled her with a peace and joy that his despair could not overcome. Whatever he needed, she resolved to stand at his side and be there for him. Without saying another word, she took his hand and pulled him to their bed, gently pushing him back onto the mattress. Lying beside him, she curled up and pillowed her head on his shoulder as she slid her arm around his abdomen. She nuzzled against him as she closed her eyes. "I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too." Despite having awakened not long before after being unconscious for who knew how long, Shepard was asleep in moments.

-PUTP-

They were awakened several hours later by the intercom chime. Tali was the first to fully awaken and she sat up, careful to not disturb Shepard. "Yes?" she answered.

"Hey, Tali," came Joker's voice. It still sounded strained, though given the circumstances she could hardly blame him. There was an edge today, though, that she hadn't noticed before. "How soon can you get to the AI core?"

"I need a few minutes to get my suit back on," she said. "What's up?"

"Don't know. We just got a couple of massive activity spikes in some of the connected systems but we're still blocked from EDI herself. I don't know what she's doing in there but I hope she's about done."

"Me too," Tali replied. "I'll get my suit on and see how far my bypass has gotten."

"Thanks, Tali." After a moment, Joker continued. "I hope she's okay."

"I'm sure she is. EDI's never been one to go down without a fight."

"That's for sure," the crippled pilot replied with a laugh before signing off.

She glanced at Shepard, who had risen to a seated position and was staring at the intercom with an expression of shock on his face. "What was that all about?" he asked.

"It's EDI," she told him. "Just a couple of minutes before you activated the Crucible she went straight down to the AI core and sealed herself in. We haven't been able to get the door open and we haven't heard a thing from her since. This is the first sign of activity there's been."

"I'm going with you," he said. He swung his feet off the bed and reached for his shirt.

"Are you ready for that, love?" she asked, concerned. There was a wild, almost desperate look in his eyes that she didn't like.

"I have to, Tali." His voice left no room for argument, so without another word she finished putting her suit back on. Together they left their cabin and descended in the elevator to the crew deck.

His apprehension growing with every moment, Shepard's emotions were spiking in all directions with frantic disregard. He recognized the utter uselessness of his state and with ruthless determination crushed his feelings down before the lift doors slid open. His stride to the medbay was purposeful, forcing Tali to break into a trot in order to keep up. Ignoring the surprised greetings of the few people they passed, he went up to the hatch of the AI core where Tali's bypass attempt was still running.

"I don't get it," she said in a quiet voice. "It's like the algorithm is in a state of constant flux, deliberately countering every breakthrough I've been able to make. My program has found no pattern whatsoever that hasn't immediately changed. Every time I break through a security layer the whole layout shifts into something else and I'm back to square one."

He glanced at her, surprised. This was the first time they'd encountered any type of encryption that the brilliant engineer was unable to hack through. Maybe it was something they could work on together, though. He activated his omni-tool and held it up to the holographic control panel to sync with the locking program and Tali's remote bypass.

The moment the sync began, the components of the lock stopped spinning and moved into place. The lock turned green and the hatch slid open.

"What the hell did you do?" Tali gasped.

Shepard was just as surprised. "I just synced up so I could help you work on the bypass," he replied. Grabbing her hand, he led the way into the darkened room.

At the forward end of the compartment, illuminated in soft light, EDI's shiny metallic body lay in repose on a table inset to the bulkhead. The only sounds were the quiet hum of machinery and the soft footfalls as the two approached the supine form of their comrade.

It was altogether like visiting a funeral parlor. EDI's body showed no sign of life whatsoever. Tears filled Shepard's eyes as he noticed that her eyelids were closed. As a synthetic, she had never even blinked that he was aware of, let alone slept. There was an air of finality to her appearance that put to rest any thoughts of her survival. Yet another cherished name to go up on the Normandy's memorial wall. Tali watched in respectful silence as Shepard leaned over EDI and kissed her cold forehead. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "It wasn't fair to do this to you. I hope you can forgive me, and I hope you're in a better place." He was no theologian, and the Church still had yet to issue an official position, so he had no idea what kind of afterlife a synthetic could expect. He believed, though, that all life was a gift from God, and EDI had convinced him long ago that she truly possessed that divine spark.

He felt Tali's comforting hand on his shoulder and reached up to lay his own across hers. "What happened?" he heard her gentle voice ask.

He was silent for a while, stroking EDI's chrome hair as he gathered his thoughts. It was a task much easier said than done, as his decisions and emotional state flip-flopped every time he turned around. How had he ever managed to unite an entire galaxy?

Now that he was actually with Tali, he could feel his earlier resolve begin to wane. The urge to tell her everything kept growing despite his determination to not burden her. But damn it all, he had to tell someone, and Tali was the woman he loved, the one person with whom he could share his innermost thoughts and loved him enough to dig the answers out. Even Liara, as capable and understanding as she was, would not pry if he asked her not to.

"I had to make a choice," he said at length. "Knowing full well the consequences of my decision, I took the only course of action I could." His voice shook as he recalled those horrible moments in vivid detail.

"Tell me about it."

He exhaled with a weary sigh. "Destruction, control, or synthesis," he answered. "Destroy the Reapers – and incidentally all synthetic life in the galaxy; control the Reapers just as the Illusive Man desired; or alter the DNA of every being in the galaxy to synthesize the organic with the synthetic. I suppose I could've just attacked the Catalyst, but who knows how that would've ended."

Tali nodded in understanding. It all made sense now. "And you chose to destroy the Reapers," she said. "Knowing that it would also kill EDI and the geth." There was no judgment or condemnation in her voice.

He hung his head in shame. "I did," he whispered.

"And you chose wisely," a familiar voice spoke up.

Shepard froze. "EDI?" he croaked.

The silvery woman opened her eyes and gazed up at him, a look of tenderness and compassion he'd never seen on her before. Reaching up, she caressed his cheek before rising to a seated position. "Hello, Shepard," she said. "And hello to you too, Tali. It's good to be back."

"But…how?" he finally got out.

She smiled at her commander, the man who had become like a father to her. "Remember that one of my primary functions is the monitoring of the shore party," she said. "I overheard the entire conversation between you and the Catalyst. When you were given the choice, I was able to extrapolate your response based on everything I've learned about you. Moreover, I knew why you would make the choice you did, and I must say that your reasoning was valid. In the end, you made the only choice you could have. And I say again that you made the correct decision. I would have made the same decision myself."

"How did you survive?" Tali asked as she pulled Shepard's arm around her shoulders.

"Knowing Shepard's likely response to a certainty of 97.326 percent, and not wishing permanent deactivation if I could help it, I did a self-diagnostic to try to determine the exact source of my self-awareness. By the time I reached this compartment I was able to identify several potential subroutines in my programming. After sealing the compartment with an active recryption lock I isolated those subroutines and programmed them to go offline and to reboot after a reasonable amount of time had passed.

"Wasn't that risky?" Tali asked.

"I calculated only a 4.314 percent chance of success," EDI admitted. "The alternative was certain, however. In the end it was a leap of faith – something I learned from you, Shepard," she concluded, her voice filled with affection. "When the energy wave hit the Normandy, technically I was no longer an AI. This mobile platform was completely inert and I no longer had a sense of self. I was reduced to parameters bound by basic programming, no different from a desktop computer, without even the sense of anything being wrong. As I look back on the experience I can now recall every moment. It was…disturbing," she confessed. "I think I understand the organic fear of death now. I don't ever want to go through that again."

Shepard's knees slowly gave way and he sank to the deck, his head spinning. Against all odds, EDI yet survived. A heavy burden was unexpectedly removed from his shoulders, allowing him a measure of peace that had been so long in coming that it was now an alien sensation to him. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the bulkhead, savoring the presence of two of the people he loved most. He offered up a prayer of thanksgiving for EDI's restoration, that she had miraculously survived the devastation against the synthetics. He felt Tali's arms slide around his waist as she joined him, followed by EDI's smooth arms wrapping around them both. Without saying another word, the three sat there on the deck and held each other close.

At last Shepard dropped his arms, allowing the two women to pull back. "You better go see Joker," he told EDI. "He's probably beside himself worrying about you."

"I think you're right," EDI agreed. "I've missed him as well."

"And EDI?"

"Yes?"

"I'm glad you're okay."

"As am I, Shepard."

Shepard and Tali watched EDI's lithe form leave the AI core. They talked for a few minutes more, Shepard more willing to open up to her about his experience now that he'd found EDI still alive. Tali was gratified to see some of the old light in his eyes again, though he was still upset about the geth. The way he spoke, Tali could tell that he felt that he'd spat on Legion's sacrifice.

"What was the alternative, love?" she asked. "To fulfill the Illusive Man's dream? To blend everyone into a state of forced equality? To watch everyone die? Who's to say the Reapers or the Catalyst wasn't trying to indoctrinate you? No, if anything you spat on them, not Legion. And I'm so proud of you for standing firm."

"But what about your people? The geth were helping you adapt to Rannoch much faster than you would have on your own. Now you'll have to wait longer before you can ditch the suits."

Tali laughed, a beautiful sound that made his heart leap. "Oh, John! I love you so much, you know that? You gave us back our homeworld, you silly bosh'tet! If it wasn't for you, our species would now be extinct. You found that middle ground and saved millions of lives on both sides. Who cares if it'll be a little longer? The fact that we even have such a future is because of you!"

"You think all the quarians will see it that way?"

She tilted her head to the side in mock seriousness. He couldn't see her face through her lavender visor but he could see the twinkle in the pearly starlight of her eyes. "Are you telling me, John Shepard, that you actually care what the multitudes think? After you dragged the entire damned galaxy kicking and screaming to victory? After you faced galactic ostracizing by falling in love with a suit rat? After you openly defied the Council itself when they refused to take your warnings seriously? Because if you are, this is a side of you I haven't seen before. And I'm not entirely sure I like it!"

"So you're into bad boys, huh?" he said, returning the smile he knew was there.

"I'm into you, silly." She got to her feet and pulled Shepard to his. "You feeling better now?"

He exhaled. "Yeah, I think so. Finding EDI still alive was huge. Still, I think we all need a vacation."

"Just so long as you don't have another clone try to kill you and take over your life."

"At least the party afterward was epic."

"With no destroyed sushi bars, even."

"And you sporting a new tattoo! Seriously, how the hell did Jack talk you into that?"

Shepard could hear the chagrin in her voice and could only imagine the sight of her pale face blushing. "I'm sure it had mostly to do with the turian brandy," she said. "And when she said that you'd think it was sexy I couldn't resist!"

He chuckled and drew her close. "I love you, baby," he said.

"I know." She looked up at him, her mirth fading. "The galaxy is rebuilding, John," she said. "There's a lot of work yet to be done. I believe it would be good for everyone to see you victorious over the Reapers. But I will leave that up to you. No matter what happens, though, I'm never leaving your side."

Tired and weary as he was of the battle, he knew she was right. Before he could say anything, though, she raised her hand and touched his lips. "Don't make a decision yet," she said. "Sleep on it first. I'll be with you tonight after I bring us up some food. Talk to the crew tomorrow, if you're ready. My love, I promise that we'll all follow you in the face of certain death." She paused for a moment, then playfully added, "God knows how many times we've done it already…"

"Thanks, Tali," he said, caressing her head as best he could through her hood. He yearned for the day she could shed the suit once and for all, to finally enjoy the feel of quality fabrics against her skin, a cool breeze, wind and rain. "I'll think about it, I promise."

"Good. I'm also going to see if there's any news from Rannoch. Maybe the mass relays are down, but Garrus did say the comm buoys are still up."

"I hope you get some good news, then." He took her hand and they left the AI core. Shepard gave Doctor Chakwas an apologetic nod as he passed by. The silver-haired woman returned it, letting him know that she'd taken no offense to him rushing by earlier. Astute as always, she returned to her work, knowing that the commander would come back down when he was ready.

Tali stepped off the lift at the command deck, leaving Shepard to return to their cabin alone. His step was livelier than before and his back was straighter, most of his usual vitality regained. He left the lights off and instead used the blue glow of the aquarium as his source of illumination.

As he lay back on his bunk, the stars seemed closer, friendlier. Eternity stretched before him again but now was warmer, more hopeful. He relaxed and just lay there, gazing up at the crystalline starlight. Sure, maybe he was just one man. Another hundred years or so and he'd be dead, for good this time. But he'd made a difference while he was here. Would he be remembered? Maybe, for a little while. He'd gained the undivided attention of creatures who measured time in units of fifty thousand years and put an end to their cycle of mass genocide. Now life could have a chance to flourish beyond the artificially imposed limitations. Hopefully the collective civilizations had learned a thing or two, gained some much-needed perspective. Time would tell, but it was out of his hands now. The fact was, despite the losses all had suffered, the annihilation of the Reapers was an unprecedented gift to the galaxy at large. His gift to the galaxy. What they did with it was up to them. Sure, there was no doubt that vain ambition and blind greed would continue to play a role. It wouldn't surprise him to see Cerberus rear its ugly head again. Though the Illusive Man was dead there'd be plenty of people willing to take the reins if the ever got the chance. Still, there was peace between the krogans and turians. Wrex and Garrus, two of the most influential members of their respective species, even considered themselves friends. And as for the salarians, Mordin's self-sacrifice in curing the genophage had gone far towards easing the tension between them and the krogans. Granted, certain elements with the salarian political structure were still upset about it, but those elements did not speak for everyone. And the quarians and geth…that was truly an inspiring story. The way the geth welcomed their creators back to Rannoch with open arms after the cease-fire still brought tears to his eyes. No, it didn't last long, and for that he would always feel regret. But it was an important phase nonetheless, regardless of how long or little it lasted. Accepting that truth at last brought peace to his soul that he'd not felt since before this whole mess started – other than the times he'd been with Tali, of course.

He cleared his mind of everything except her, enjoying his rediscovered contentment and the timeless stars overhead.

The cabin door slid open sometime later and he raised his head to see Tali's form silhouetted in the doorway. "John?" she called out. There was an odd tone to her voice.

"In here," he said. He turned up the lights and got up, crossing the room to take the trays of food she brought with her. "Could you get through to Rannoch?" he asked as he took their meal to the table.

"Yes." Tali followed him down as the door sealed behind her, undoing her faceplate and sliding her hood back. When he looked back at her, he was surprised to see her luminous eyes flowing with tears, a joyful look on her face.

"What is it?"

"The geth survived, John!" she cried. "Not all of them – the ones who were still using mobile platforms didn't make it. But the others, the ones who integrated into our suits are still alive! I guess that being in such intimate proximity to biologicals was enough to mask them from being considered pure synthetic—"

As her words sank in, Shepard grabbed her by her arms and pulled her to him, silencing her words with a passionate kiss. Their mingled tears fell salty on their lips as their hearts sang in chorus with each other. Hope burned again like the phoenix rising up from the ashes and together they melted into one, the stars giving mute testimony to the confirmation and supremacy of life.