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The first thing she recognized was the steady beeping of a heart monitor. Followed by the cold, filtered air.
Not again.
She waited to hear familiar voices, Miranda’s clipped, sultry tones. Or the Illusive man giving his orders. The thought of either causing a small flash in the back of her mind. Still too groggy to grasp at it. Her eyelids still too heavy to try opening.
Why can’t they just leave me alone... wasn’t once enough?
It felt like she was floating. Whether from pain meds, or just pain, she wasn’t able to tell. Her body refusing to listen to the commands she couldn’t voice. The situation all too familiar, making her wish that she could weep. Making her wish she could panic past the heavy, forced sense of relaxation.
I can’t still be here... What... How am I here... Cerberus...
“Give it to me straight, Doc...” The voice was almost rough, though the words were soft spoken. Another twinge in the back of her mind. “You know I’ll be here... But I need to know what I’m waiting for.”
“She’s been in a coma since her impact, Major Alenko. We’ve done all we can just to get her stable. But I’m afraid that there’s more to it than that.”
Doctor Chakwas. And... I know him... why...
There was a soft pressure on her hand. She tried to flex it in return, aching to wrap her fingers around the ones threading with hers. Ached to remember why this felt so familiar. Trying to fight past the haze of her thoughts, it felt like she was swimming through sludge.
“Doc... You know you can tell me. She was there when I was the one in this bed. Not like I would do anything less, not after everything else.” Kaidan... my Kaidan...
The memories flooding through quickly enough to make her suddenly dizzy. His awkward laugh. The way his lips curved as he spoke. The whiskey color of his eyes. The roughness of his hands. The sweetness of his kiss. The wrecked harshness of his moans. He was here...
But why did it feel wrong. Trying to remember and listen all at once. Trying not to listen to that infernal beeping. She hated that sound.
“You know how she felt about what Cerberus had done.” Dr. Chakwas sighed heavily. The sound of a tablet being turned on. Tapping against the screen.
“No... Doc. She wouldn’t have done this. Not after everything.” Kaidan’s voice took on an urgent sense of panic. Squeezing harder against her hand. The pressure almost felt good. It felt real.
“I’m afraid she did, shortly after being reinstated by... by David. It was her first official act of duty.” The sigh once more.
She knows... she knows I wouldn’t want this... Kaidan .. Please... understand...
“No. No. Doc.” Her hand was lifted, chapped lips pressed to the knuckles. Tears falling against her skin. A soft sob.
“Kaidan... I would change it if I could. But this is what she wanted. Her first copy was filed with her intake papers when she enlisted.” A rustle, Chakwas would be sitting next to him then. The dip in the mattress. Trying to comfort his heart break... Again.
Had she done this for you before, Kaidan? She’ll know what to do... Please... I love you...
“Doc... I love her... How can I just accept this? We finally made it through all of this bullshit. She’s still alive. We hadn’t even expected that much?” A harsh swallow. “We were supposed to meet my folks, move to Vancouver, retire. We knew the odds... she can make it through this.”
“Shepherd is stronger than anyone I know. If anyone can pull out of a coma, I’ve no doubt that it’s her... But there are limits to what we are allowed to do. And if her readings go down... her wishes are outlined quite clearly.”
I remember now. How hard Chakwas argued with me about this... How afraid I was of telling you... Don’t put me through this again, Kaidan. I finished what I needed to... I’m too tired...
The smallest twitch of her hand against his. Not noticed by the two others in the room. The memory of a stack of papers, Anderson’s understanding frown as she signed them the first time. Chakwas’ tears, as she passed them over the second.
Her signature, in her scrawled, barely legible handwriting.
The scrawl that Kaiden had often teased her for. The promise that one day he would get her into an actual penmenship class, no matter how old fashioned it was. The writing of vows against each other’s skin, hidden beneath their armor on that final day. One last promise. One last lie.
‘No extraordinary measures.’ In bright red at the top of her chart.
I love you... Let me go.