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“Shepard,” Liara says, her voice warm and with a bright smile on her face as she and Wrex enter the hospital room that Shepard’s staying in—well, as much of a ‘room’ as the thin walls pieced together in a secret location can be called (and Shepard’s told he has one of the nicer arrangements).
“Hey, you two, finally!” Shepard sits up a little straighter, trying his best not to wince as pain flares up at his side where his still unhealed ribs object to the movement. “Was almost starting to think you’d forgotten about me.”
“Yeah, we’ve all been terribly busy celebrating that other guy who saved the whole galaxy from getting wiped out,” Wrex says. Shepard likes to think himself fluent enough in Krogan by now to pick up on the smile in his voice even when Wrex sounds the most sarcastic, so he lets himself laugh, ignoring the responding, Seriously, man? that it gets him from his ribs.
“It is good to see you again.” Liara walks over to Shepard’s bed, holding a brown paper bag in her arms that she puts down onto the floor by the nightstand so she can carefully cup his face. Placing her fingers a safe distance below the bandages wrapped around Shepard’s head, she leans in and kisses his forehead. “To see you properly this time, I mean.”
Shepard still can’t piece together all the scattered memories he has of regaining consciousness into a coherent narrative, most of it a jumbled blur of confusion. Him alone in a bed, once again waking up to the view of a white ceiling and trying to make out where he was and what had happened.
Maybe he should be getting used to it by now.
At least this time he didn’t have to roll out of bed and head straight for his gun.
Instead, he remembers the moment he’d realized that Kaidan was right there with him. The anxious tight clasp around Shepard’s chest had lifted in an instant, and the relief he’d felt must have mirrored the look on Kaidan’s face when Shepard blinked his eyes open at him. Every attempt to assess the situation or figure out how much danger he was in fell away at the sight of him—Kaidan, his Kaidan, sitting right there by his side. Holding Shepard’s hand and leaning forward to stroke his cheek while telling him, no, Shepard wasn’t dead, then smiling and blinking back tears as he added, “but if your idea of the afterlife would be us sitting together, holding hands, I’m really flattered, John.”
Once Shepard had finally fully regained consciousness—aware of the time and date again and slightly more up to speed with everything happening around him, without constantly being two seconds away from falling asleep—everyone had wanted to pop in and say hi.
Welcome him back.
Hug him and cry a little.
Or a lot.
Shepard had made sure to look away and act as inconspicuous as he possibly could when James started sniffling, mumbling about how they really shouldn’t keep patients in a place with so much dust in the air while furiously wiping at his eyes. And maybe Shepard had felt like tearing up too, just at the sight of them—most of his closest crew all gathered here to see him, even though he knew there had to be so many more important places for them to go, so many more people to help.
Even Admiral Hackett himself had stepped forward from where the small crowd was huddled together in the tiny hospital room, then started a passionate speech about Shepard’s heroic deeds.
Shepard had caught the first four words or so of it before he’d passed out cold again.
It was a beautiful one, for those who were awake to hear it, Kaidan informed him when Shepard woke up again half an hour later. Everyone else had been ushered outside and a more proper visiting schedule had been set up, with strict orders from Shepard’s nurses that there’d be no more than two visitors a day, for the first week at least.
Apparently there was a line to come see him now.
He might not have heard Hackett’s speech in person that day, but from what people have told him since then, it’s been easy enough for Shepard to piece together what everyone thinks. He’s a hero. Their savior. The guy who did what no one else would—could—do.
But, most importantly, the one thing Shepard cares about most in all of this: the Reapers are gone.
Dead as dead can be.
Admiral Hackett has also assured him that there will be a huge ceremony once Shepard is feeling well enough for it. Shepard has no idea how to respond to any of it, since he doesn’t even have any memory of what happened. Last thing he remembers from before waking up is that he was fighting his way through Reaper forces in London—it’d been the start of October when they headed to Earth, and now Kaidan has told him that it’s Christmas in two days.
Shepard might’ve had to process a much larger time jump before, but it still doesn’t make it feel any less weird this time around. He can’t stop wondering if soon he’s going to wake up a second time, only to find that all of this is a dream; that the impossible wasn’t done and his friends aren’t actually here, taking turns visiting him in his little hospital room.
He gets broken out of his thoughts when Liara moves away from his side and sits down in the chair next to his bed.
Shepard glances over at Wrex as he starts walking towards him. “Don’t tell me you’re going to kiss me too,” he says.
“You bet your pale human backside I am.” Wrex places one hand on Shepard’s shoulder first and then a loud peck on the top of his head next. Shepard’s eyes go wide, the idea of this all being a wild dream seeming more and more plausible with each passing second. Wrex jostles his shoulder a little, the touch unexpectedly gentle for what Shepard’s come to expect from a Krogan. “You look like hell, by the way. I know you’ve died countless times by now and all, but still. Damn, Shepard.”
Shepard snorts. A face full of scars, body covered in dark bruises even after the time he’s spent in a coma, three of his fingers on his right hand wrapped in bandage, broken ribs, his left leg gone below the knee... Shepard hasn’t asked for a mirror, but he doesn’t really need to check his own reflection to know there’s probably some truth to Wrex’s statement.
Things could definitely be better.
They could also be a lot worse, though, and he has to cling to that fact.
“Twice, Wrex,” Shepard says. “I’ve only died twice. Not countless, unless you’re a very small child. And that’s only if you include this time, and as far as I know no one’s actually said anything about me being dead when they found me.”
“To everyone’s great confusion, to be fair,” Liara says, holding up her hands when they both look at her. “Not—not that I’m saying I wouldn’t rather have us all be confused for the rest of our lives instead of you suddenly starting to follow general rules of how bodies should work.”
“Jus’ saying,” Wrex walks around the bed and sits down in the chair opposite Liara, grinning wide as he leans back, “that some of us wear the whole ‘facial scars and red eyes’ look a little better than others.”
“Yeah, whaddaya know?” Shepard touches the indented skin on his cheek, the curved pattern of his scars; the visible reminder of what he’s mostly made up of nowadays ever since the first Normandy blew up. “One moment you think your cybernetic implants are finally fully healed, then all it takes is one major blast followed by a fall from the sky before suddenly your eyes are back to glowing again.”
Wrex squints at him, fingers drumming against his own thigh, contemplating. “Gotta ask—they do that in the dark too?”
“That’s… classified information,” Shepard answers stoically, earning himself a deep snicker from Wrex.
“Knew it,” he says.
Shepard brushes him off with a wave of his hand. “Kaidan’s still sleeping in here, so I’ve figured it can’t be that bad, right?”
“Eh, no one’s ever picked a human for the way they look anyway, that’s for sure,” Wrex says and shifts in his seat. “Except you with Alenko, maybe. But the pretty ones are few and far between.”
“I’m—sorry, but did you just call Kaidan pretty?” Not that Shepard doesn’t wholeheartedly agree with that, but he still stares at Wrex in disbelief. He’d shake his head to clear his mind and try to make sense of this if he wasn’t so sure it’d hurt, given his injuries and all.
Wrex shrugs like it’s no big deal. “For a human.”
Liara coughs, clearly hiding a smile behind the back of her hand when Shepard glances over, but he quickly turns back to Wrex and squints his eyes at him again, not willing to let this go just yet. “I’ll have you know I’m considered plenty attractive among my kind too, Wrex.”
“Dunno about that, Shepard... even now with that mop of hair on your head?”
“Shut up,” he mutters and touches above the bandage where his usual buzzcut has grown far longer than he’s had it since he was a teenager—before the attack on Mindoir, before moving to Earth, before joining the Alliance.
“I, for one, like your hair, Shepard,” Liara says. “I think it suits you. Though I have always found it a bit strange, if I am being honest.”
“They’re all a bit strange no matter what they do—hair or no.”
Liara nods sagely. “That is true.”
“Are you two done yet?” Shepard huffs.
“Pah! You need this,” Wrex says with another chuckle and Shepard huffs, rolling his eyes in a ‘well, okay, yeah’-manner before he smiles, because.
Well.
Okay, yeah.
“Hey, Liara,” Shepard says and turns to her with a wide grin, “speaking of how attractive I am, remember that time you were in love with me?”
“So! Speaking of scars and you being a medical mystery,” Liara says, acting very focused on brushing something off her white clothes, suddenly eager to change the topic from any and all manner of friendly teasing. “Have the doctors told you anything new at all since you first woke up? The information last time was lacking, to say the least.”
“Okay, hey, don’t try to act like you haven’t already made Kaidan tell you everything we know," Shepard says. He doesn’t mind filling her in, but if there is one thing he knows Liara loves and won’t just sit silently and wait for, it’s information.
“I’ll... admit I was going to try it last time I was here, but. Our dear Kaidan was far too busy making sure we were all clear on the fact that we are not allowed to bust you out, under any circumstances, no matter what you say about it.”
Shepard blinks at her, trying to figure out whether she’s serious or not. “He did not do that.”
“No, it’s true,” Wrex says while Liara nods. “Was only looking at Garrus and Grunt through the whole thing, though, to be fair.”
“Huh.” Shepard contemplates this new information, weighing it over in his mind for a moment before he laughs and shakes his head. “Yeah, okay. I can see it now. Still, I—I can’t tell you anything about me that you haven’t already heard, Liara.”
No one who has examined him can come up with a proper explanation for how or why he’s still breathing, considering the state of everything else at the place where they’d found him, where he’s been told there was a huge explosion.
“Yesterday I had a doctor come in and stare back and forth between me and their clipboard for like five minutes before they just walked out again without a word,” Shepard says.
“Hm.” Liara purses her lips, expression thoughtful. “It does make one wonder, doesn’t it? If whatever Cerberus used to reconstruct—”
“Shepard’s been beatin’ the odds way before Cerberus got his hands on him,” Wrex cuts her off and points at him. “Mark my words, this guy’s part krogan! Just as I’ve always suspected.”
“So does that mean I’ll be able to grow my leg back out now?”
“Pfft, and here I thought you’d love being forced to lie down in a bed with nothing to do while adjusting to the change.”
“Yeah, Wrex,” Shepard says, “you know me so well.”
“Maybe that’s why the Reapers came here to begin with,” Wrex says. “All one big ploy to finally get your ass to stay still for a while.”
“So Kaidan has been giving speeches to all of you—”
“I have to say,” Liara cuts in, “if they wanted Shepard to stay still, they have gone about it in a very strange way these past couple of years.”
Shepard laughs. “Don’t worry, guys, I promise I really will stay still. Make sure I heal up nicely and all that before trying to pick any fights again.” He smiles at them, but it ends up far more rueful than he’d aimed for. Glancing away, he looks at his fingers wrapped up in white, then down at where his left calf used to be but the sheets now lay flat against the mattress below his knee. “Still don’t get why I’m not dead,” he murmurs thoughtfully. “I mean, I’m thankful for it, but—I really don’t get it.”
“Guess what? We got a present for you,” Wrex says, apparently deciding to completely ignore him.
Maybe that’s part of the reason why Shepard brought it up here, around him, though—because he knows Wrex has never been one for taking pity. Or being upset in the worried way Kaidan gets when Shepard slips up and mentions how it really shouldn’t be possible for him to be breathing right now.
“Oh! Right. Goddess, how could I forget...” Liara bends down to pick up the paperbag.
“Seriously?” Shepard says, more genuinely curious than anything else. “A present?”
“I—yes.” Liara places the bag in Shepard’s lap with a soft smile. “We found this while we were still back in London, looking through buildings for survivors. Or actually, Wrex found it, I should say.”
“Liara insisted on keeping it.”
“Well, it is December in your Earth months and I remember when Ashley taught us about your winter festivities, how much she loved this Christmas one. Plus—this room could do with some decorations, and we all know how hard flowers are to come by these days.”
“Are you guys gonna finally let me see what it even is, or...?” Shepard says, amused, then sticks his uninjured hand inside the bag to pull out whatever is in there.
“Careful,” Liara says while Shepard wraps his fingers around something round and smooth.
“Oh. It’s...” Shepard trails off as he pulls it out, staring down at the snowglobe he’s holding. It’s about the size of a tennis ball, with its fragile glass fully intact, protecting the tiny cottage and pine trees inside it.
“There was nothing but rubble where we found it,” Liara tells him, “but there it was. It made us think of you. We figured you could perhaps... take care of it. Give it a new home. Where it can sit safely and just do nothing for a while.”
“Subtle, guys,” Shepard mutters, but he finds himself having to look away while blinking too fast, counting numbers in his head until he has his breathing back under control and is certain the tears are securely kept at bay.
Looking down again, he swallows thickly before gently shaking the snowglobe, watching in silence as the snow falls; peacefully and naturally, not stopping to question why or how it’s still able to do so.
“Thank you, Liara—Wrex. This is...” Shepard takes another deep breath, hoping he’s subtle enough about it that they won’t notice it too much while he clears his throat. He carefully puts the snowglobe onto the little nightstand he has by his bed, next to the hand sanitizer and the glass of water already there, on top of the book that Kaidan’s been reading to him at night.
Exhaling slowly, he keeps watching as the snowflakes fall.
His body is breathing, Earth is safe, a lot of his friends are still alive, Kaidan is with him, and his glass hasn’t broken.
As much of a frustrating mystery it might be, it’s the greatest start to what comes next that Shepard could have ever imagined.