Chapter Text
It was hard to look intimidating in a wheelchair, but with the way the Captain was sweating, it seemed like she hadn’t lost her skill while lying in the medbay.
With the Citadel hospitals overwhelmed and supplies limited, Shepard had been forced to stay on Hackett’s Alliance frigate for her lousy medical needs. David will be pissed if I don’t oversee your care, Jane.
“I’m sorry, Commander,” the Captain said. “With so many people on board I have to double up on accommodations.”
“You will not put someone with me.”
“Is there a problem?” A new voice asked as he entered the room, likely taking in Shepard’s face and the Captain’s fear.
“I was just explaining to the Commander that she’ll have a roommate,” Captain Wallers said, his eyes pleading for Hackett to get him out of the situation.
“And I so kindly told him to go fuck himself,” Shepard growled. “If I have to have a roommate, it’ll be Hackett.”
“Why are you so against a roommate, Shepard?” Hackett asked. Shepard was sure there was amusement laced in his voice but she was too busy staring down the Captain to look.
“I just barely survived hell and I have nightmares,” she admitted. “If this dumbass sticks someone I don’t know in my room that tries to pull me from my dreams, I will kill them.”
“Who are you putting with her?” Hackett asked.
“Lieutenant Commander Johnson,” he answered causing Shepard to snort.
“You mean to have me bunk with a man that can’t keep his eyes above my neckline? Have you noticed I’m stuck in a fucking wheelchair?” Shepard growled as she leaned forward in her chair, ignoring the twinges of pain. “If I have to see that man more than I already do, I won’t hesitate to put him in his place.”
The Captain swallowed visibly. “What do you mean?”
“Castration with biotics or my teeth, I’m not picky.”
Hackett sighed. Shepard could see him pinch the bridge of his nose in her peripheral vision. “Shepard will stay with me. I suggest you put Johnson with another male.”
“Yes, Sir,” the Captain said before leaving in a hurry.
“Was that entirely necessary, Commander?” Hackett asked tiredly.
“Yes. Where are your quarters?”
Shepard looked at her omnitool as it lit up with a nav point. “I’ll come help you pack.”
“I’m broken not a fucking invalid,” she told him angrily.
“That language is unbefitting a lovely young woman,” Hackett told her with a smirk.
“Fuck you.”
Hackett sighed, his reply softer. “Shepard, let me help you.”
“You want to help? Find Miranda Lawson,” she told him heatedly. Pity was the last thing she wanted. “Find my fucking ship and my crew.”
Seven months since the end of the war and communications were only just now coming back up. With the relay’s down…
She hoped her crew was alive.
With an internal sigh, she left the meeting room and made her way towards the elevator. She’d been in her small quarters for less than a month. It was cramped and hard to move her chair around in, but it was still better than a hospital bed.
All she had to move was some clothing. That was it. Everything she owned was on the Normandy and in her apartment on the Citadel. The clothing was Alliance issued, not even hers.
Gods, she missed David. She’d thought for sure that he was dead. But Hackett had told her he was in an Earth military hospital in Germany. They’d managed to stabilize him, but until they had access to better medical supplies, they’d had to put him in a medically induced coma. She wasn’t sure she could live with the guilt if he died.
The apartment she would be residing in was pretty small. Not what she expected for an Admiral, but then he’d always been pretty humble. At least from what little she saw of him personally. It looked like a one bedroom. She had assumed as much. The couch looked comfortable, so she decided that she would bunk there. There had been worse places she’d slept.
It was still better than the medbay.
Laying her small duffle bag on the coffee table, she lined her chair up to move to the couch.
According to the doctors, there were problems with her bones and implants. They didn’t exactly know what, but Shepard thought that maybe there had been some reaper tech inside of her. She definitely wouldn’t put it past the Illusive Man to fill her with enemy parts. Fragile bones were being held together by heavy bone weaves. That was the only thing keeping her from becoming a permanent medbay resident.
Then there was her eyes. She still had vision, but it was all in gray tones. There were no more colors, hell, she didn’t even know if her eyes held the same green color since all her implants weren’t working properly. Her hearing came and went making everything sound like a tunnel before it righted. It was disorienting and sometimes nauseating.
Her body was failing, she could feel it. The implants would eventually stop working all together. After all the hell of the last few years, she would die slowly as her body began to shut down. Miranda was her only hope. And even that hope was overshadowed by the possibility that these could be her last months.
--
Hackett: Have you settled in?
Shepard: Isn’t this abusing the comm network?
H: Yes.
S: Look at the big bad Admiral skirting the rules.
H: Jane…
S: Just got settled on the couch, thank you.
H: I’ll sleep on the couch, you take the bedroom.
S: Too late, already called dibs on the couch. But...we could share the bed ;)
H: Shepard, you’re injured.
S: Miranda was on Earth last I heard from her before I activated the Crucible. I suggest you find her unless you want a dead Spectre on your couch.
H: It’s that serious? The doctors didn’t say it was life threatening.
S: My implants are failing, my body will follow.
H: Okay, I’ll take care of it. I’ll be home soon. Hackett out.
S: Jeez, do you have to end every conversation we ever have with that?
H: Yes, Hackett out.
S: Fine. Shepard out.
Quiet music slowly brought her out of a rather pleasant dream. One filled with home cooked meals and the feeling of happiness. It was almost bittersweet to open her eyes and not see her home on Mindoir.
Instead, Hackett was working in the kitchen. The savory scent of food filled her nostrils as old music drifted softly around her. His uniform was tossed on top of her bag with his hat. He must have checked on her as soon as he got in. She almost felt bad for telling him she was slipping away.
The anger she had been feeling earlier had mostly faded. It wasn’t like she could control her situation. It just made her livid that she was falling apart when there was finally more time to relax.
She sat up slowly, her body fighting against her. Closing her eyes, she inhaled and exhaled through the pain before opening them again to grab her chair. But Hackett was there, his hands already moving in to help her stand. She wanted to slap them away, but he was sharing his space with her. She could swallow her pride for her long-time friend.
“Ready?” He asked her gently. With her nod, he helped her stand then carefully turned before slowly depositing her into the chair. “Hungry?” If he felt the bones under his hands he didn’t say anything.
She really wasn’t, but she knew she needed the calorie intake. “Yeah, but not much.”
“Don’t biotics eat a lot?” Maybe he did notice.
“Yes, but I have a dampener in.” She still required more calories, but he didn’t need to know she had no appetite.
Dinner was quiet. Almost romantic which nearly made her snort. But if she did, then she’d have to explain. One does not explain innocent infatuations. Especially to their superior officer.
“I’m told Johnson was pretty upset when he arrived to your old quarters to find them empty,” Hackett told her while he cleared their plates.
“Seeing how he’s been trying to get me into bed for the last three months, I’m not surprised.” It wasn’t like sex was an option at the moment. Not with her body hurting all the time and her bones barely holding together.
“Three months?” He asked as he pulled an aluminum pan from the fridge.
“Yeah, he doesn’t like to be told no I guess.”
“What does it take to get you into bed?” Hackett asked as he began cutting.
“Class,” she replied dryly. “I can get laid anytime I want, except now obviously. I could break in half.”
“But you want more?” He asked, seeming to ignore the last few words.
“If I survive, yes.” And she did. She wanted everything. “Marriage, kids, if I can even have them. Speaking of, do you know how Wrex and Grunt are?”
“No, but I can find out,” he answered as he brought her a slice of cheesecake. Real cheesecake, with strawberries. The strawberries weren’t fresh, but it was a wonderful treat regardless.
“Dinner and dessert? You better be careful Admiral or I’ll make you a Shepard,” she teased. His surprised chuckle made her smile.
“The coffee is on,” he told her after a few minutes.
“Well, that does it. We’re getting married,” she joked just as the scent of coffee hit her nose. “Hope you don’t mind a dozen mini Shepard’s running underfoot.”
“A dozen?”
“At least,” she told him with a wink.
It didn’t matter that death was patiently waiting for her. She could feel it. She wasn’t ready, but death never cared about silly things like that.