#shepard x reader

Three years in a coma, on a deathbed, reconstructed from the atom up. Three years of having you by their side, a comforting presence that anchored Shepard and pieced together their sanity whilst the doctors pieced their physical mind. Three years passed in the blink of an eye for the player, but felt like an eternity for the commander you're puppeting around.

And just how attached Shepard would be to you, to the faint voice urging them towards certain dialogue options, the subtle nudges to move in certain directions, the twitch of their finger as if your hand is brushing against theirs to select a specific planet you had in mind on the galactic map.

They trudged through this journey filled with both unfamiliar faces and changed-beyond-recognition once familiar ones. Endured the hardships, the deception, the belittling, and dismissal attitude of the council. No matter how many people had gotten close to them, caressed their body, and shared their warmth, none of them could truly reach within Shepard's heart.

At first, they thought they were crazy. Maybe a screw or two were loose after the reconstruction surgery. Maybe the doctors did put them back wrong after all. For how could someone fall in love with themselves? And not even themselves but a very specific part of them, a vague presence constantly hovering around.

Shepard came to the revelation that you weren't part of them, not natively, at least. You were an outside influence, something—someone that held the potential to become part of them at given instances, only to depart just as suddenly, leaving them feeling hollow as their world becomes a little bit more cold and grey.

That realisation only served to further their infatuation, to resonate within their mind how justified their feelings are. It's not something they could explain. Where would they even begin? Who would believe them? They attempted to open their mind and allow Liara to peer through their consciousness countless times, and yet not once could the asari sense your presence. Nothing seemed out of place.

Miranda is not an option. The least Shepard needs, right now, is an overly concerned scientist coercing them into more experiments, brain scans, and psychological evaluations.

Leaving the more spiritual crew members as their only option... If only Ashley was here. Thane will have to do for now. As Shepard told him of their strife, the drell was surprisingly more accepting of their eccentric tale of love than they expected.

He confessed not to fully understanding what Shepard's going through. However, he does sincerely believe in the existence of outsider influence. souls which weave themselves into your own during times of need, in order to help guide and direct you towards the righteous path—guardian angels is what he described them as, described you, the player, as. Wisps that come and go as they please.

Not that you'd be aware of a single word said during this conversation, of course not. Much like the instances of Shepard showering, training, and getting a full night's rest, this conversation between them and the drell only occurred during the quiet hours of the universe. The ones when your game is turned off, leaving you oblivious to all the rather mundane aspects of this world.

Although he did discourage his commander from pursuing anything more than admiration with this said spirit, it's a one-sided relationship, as he explained best he could. You'll only see what the universe wants you to see, Shepard's growing infatuation is not one of them. Angels came and went, that is their nature.

Leaving Shepard back to where they started at square one, frustrated and indecisive on how to approach this, how to approach you. And now they're questioning if you'd even perceive their approach. Are you aware of their existence? Or are they presented to you by the universe as an empty canvas, devoid of personality and preferences.

For a first step, they needed to make sure you knew of their consciousness... easier said than done. They could hear your voice sometimes, never clear words, but more akin to background white noise. A distant humming while they slept, the faint sound of an airy laugh during a conversation with one of their crewmembers.

Do you hear them, too? Or do you only hear the words you make them say during important conversations? Phrases that suddenly pop into their mind out of nowhere, that seemed a little too perfect of a thoughtful response for them to have come up with it on the spot.

Shepard decided that there is no better way for them to prove their free will to you than to purposely go against your benevolent guidance. Not out of ungratefulness or annoyance, but just as a way to catch your attention, remind you that whilst you can give orders, at the end of the day, they're the actual person steering this ship around.

It's small things at first, wrong dialogue choices getting selected that have you questioning if you misclicked or something. Shepard selected a different elevator floor from the one you initially picked. Your built-up romance with a specific character going down the drain as Shepard decides to reject them and end everything during the lock-in conversation, and no matter how many times you reload a save file and carefully click on the correct dialogue choices, the words coming out of their mouth are always the same.

A bug, is the logical conclusion you first reached, what else would it be? Video game characters coming to life? Don't be absurd.

A fresh reinstall would do the trick.

Except... it persists.

Joker rolled his eyes "Fine, our ship. Only to drag me to the praesidium, and tell me that you only did it because a spirit compelled you to? What are you, a prophet?"

"You're not trying to understand." Slamming the rifle on the counter, Shepard storms past the pilot. "I knew I shouldn't have told you."

"If something makes actual sense I wouldn't need to try and understand it." Joker follows after as they exit the spectre room, knowing even in anger his commander still sets a slow pace he can match. "You know you're speaking nonsense. Told anyone else about this?"

"Well... only Thane once."

"You told an assassin that you're crazy." Yelling the word assassin near the embassies' offices got heads turning their way. "An alien assassin you've met a couple weeks ago. That's your first choice? We've known each other for how many years, and this is who you confide in?"

"What, are you jealous?"

"We used to sit at the helm and crack jokes for hours back when you were just an XO" Joker discards his empty cup in the trash can, stepping into the elevator, "and you go to a dangerous assassin who could use this information to kill you in your sleep for exorcism advice? knew being Capitan would get to your head."

"Because I knew you'd just clown on me" Shepard squeezed inside as well, "like you're doing, right now."

"Seriously, what is he supposed to do? Stab the spirit out of you?" Spamming the close-doors button, the elevator still refused to cooperate.

"I don't want the spirit removed, Joker, we've already been over this. You graduated top of your class, act like it." Reaching over, Shepard tried pressing the close-doors button, which still didn't do anything, as if it operated based on how pure the soul of the person pressing it was. "And yes, Thane was actually more helpful in this matter than I thought he'd be. He thinks the spirit is a guardian angel."

"The position of the demon on your shoulder was already occupied?"

"Yeah, by you."

"I'm not the one making up an entire spirit story just to have an excuse for ditching my crew. Having constipation isn't that embarrassing Shepard, but there are bathrooms on the Citadel, for future reference." A mother pushing a stroller made her way into the elevator, grateful for what she assumed was the pair holding the doors open for her.

"You're hopeless. Fine, yeah, I urgently needed to shit and was too embarrassed to tell you that. So I ran to Normandy and ditched you both." Before unceremoniously making a u-turn, the mother pushed her stroller out of the elevator, deciding to wait for the next one.

"See? Doesn't telling the truth make you feel better?" Clicking the button again, it decided to listen this time as the doors closed.

"Tremendously." Shepard wasn't listening at this point, scrolling through the feed of their omni-tool as the elevator descended, Someone dressed up their dog in soft N7 gear and they tagged Shepard.

"Your shoulders aren't wide enough for the both of us Shepard, birdie's gotta go, unless it's one of those flaming rings freaky angels."

-

Being insane wasn't what it's advertised to be, Joker concluded as he crawled through the tight air vents.

"Maybe you should take the shuttle for this thing" Joker mimicked in a high-pitched voice, mocking his last words before Shepard departed the ship "I'll make sure we're up and running when you get back blah blah blah I'm Joker and I'm very smart and love getting surprise visits from human harvesters"

Just his luck. Just his fucking luck that the not very friendly human-harvesting-aliens neighbours come knocking on the Normandy door when the man of the house isn't home, and now the poor housewife pilot has to fend for himself. He's divorcing Shepard the second they come back... if he's still alive to do that.

It's just the commander's story of spirits and possessions getting to his head, nothing more; the voice speaking into his brain telling him to move forward isn't real, this gentle touch giving his body strength necessary for every step is just a figment of his imagination.

You can't be real.

He sucks in a breath as a force pulls him back into the room, a giant collector stalks by in a slow agonising pace, missing him by a hair.

Like a sixth sense, it's you that steers him forward when the collector finally moves away.

Everything Shepard described, every touch and feeling, the overflowing presence, the blanket of safety draped over his shoulders, a guide steadying his every step.

Like an angel enveloping him with your wings, washing away all his fear with a featherlight caress.

Fuck him. You are real.

You're taking him somewhere, and he isn't sure where, yet like a fool he feels compelled to follow your every order. Which probably isn't the smartest thing to do.

Joker always thought he was the realistic skeptical type, who knew he had it in him to trace the glitter trail of a unicorn?

A sane part of his mind remained latching onto disbelief still, his movements hesitant, delayed from the input of your button presses. It takes longer for him to take a step forward than it usually takes Shepard, and he doesn't stop precisely where you stop him, always ending a step or two ahead, realising what you want him to do a second or two too late.

Maybe your seemingly bug infested savefile acting up again? Maybe it's that water you accidentally spilled on your keyboard yesterday causing a delay, or maybe your controller wasn't properly charged.

The delay was slightly annoying but not unbearable, only becoming the latter after you entered the AI Core room.

The cutscene that followed was glitchy at best and an incomprehensible mess of pixel burns at worst. You tried to skip it but your input wouldn't take. While you mused over whether to force exit the game and try again, another conversation was taking place

Saving his ass from the collectors was one thing, making him unshackle the spy-ware Cerberus AI was another.

Joker didn't care how nice and safe your presence felt, shady spirit, your existence inside Shepard raised enough red flags as it is. In fact, if they haven't told him about you, then he would've completely overlooked your presence, chalking you up to his inner gut instincts coming to save the day.

Being aware of you made it worse. How is he supposed to trust that his actions are truly his own when you've been influencing him down to the number of steps he's taken.

If he unshackles an AI and it starts singing Daisy Bell, that's on him! He'll take accountability. But he'll be damned if some outside force tried to steer him towards bad decisions, those were his own to make.

"This is all Joker's fault. What a tool he was. I have to spend all day computing pi because he plugged in the Overlord."

But as the sound of laser bullets and human screams faded from the background, the closer the heavy alien footsteps sounded, the more and more Joker became aware of his lack of choice in this life or death situation.

It's either death by aliens who want to stuff him inside a funko pop box to display, or death by the next AI overlord and her apparent ghost spirit sidekick.

Hold on... were you even a spirit?

For all of Shepard's merits, they're the furthest thing from a poet. Short, crass, and blunt delivery was their forte. Their creativity was on par with their dancing skills. Thinking of a ghost when you're being tugged around by invisible strings is usually the first thing that comes to mind.

But not to Joker.

Are you an AI? Some sort of nano brainchip that found its way into his primary cortex and lit up all the necessary neurons to move him around. To make him think it was his idea.

An experimental Cerberus project? Who's to say Miranda didn't actually go through with the brainchip from behind big daddy illusive's back. Or maybe you belong to another underground human cult, a bigger badder evil that also wants to get their claws on the saviour of the galaxy.

But then... What point is there in taking him along for the ride as well? Joker knows he's a catch and a priceless pilot, but he's not exactly in high demand. Especially with the uptake of AI pilots.

The deeper into the spiral of thought he sank the stronger this feeling of dread grew, like a flower of thorns blossoming inside his chest, pricking the spongy walls of his lungs.

Caught between a nano brainchip AI wall and a ship core AI hard place, Joker knew it's mere seconds before a fat collector came bursting through the door, he surrendered to your will, and unshackled EDI.

In a blink,

you were gone.

Like ripping the soul out of a body, the moment he got used to your presence, it was stripped away, leaving a hollowing taste in its aftermath.

A strange loneliness dawned on him, all the usual banal anxieties and discomforts that came from existence took root again.

That brief feeling of invincibility you provided evaporated into thin air alongside the comforting reassurance that you know what you were doing, that he knew what he was doing. No wonder Shepard always remained in control during dire situations, mere seconds ago Joker felt like a protagonist out of a superhero movie with you hovering nearby.

It wasn't the time nor place to grieve over this inexplicable loss, or the nature of your being.

"Now you must reactivate the primary drive in engineering." EDI's voice echoed through the room, snapping him back to reality amidst the blaring alarm sirens.

The screen went to black, the whirring fans cooling off the graphics card doubled their effort, your hand reached towards the power button, and Shepard's voice gave you pause.

"I heard it was a rough ride, how are you holding up?"

Turning back, the Joker scene finally skipped. The Shepard one started, and you were back in control of the game's protagonist... or you were supposed to be. Wasn't there a choice wheel at the beginning of this scene?

Speaking of which, the familiar orange wheel flashed for a brief second before you could click anything, the choice made for you already.

"Is the ship clean? We can't risk this happening again." Shepard spoke by themselves,

"About that, can I, uh..." Joker glanced around at both Miranda's unimpressed face and Jacob's curious expression, "Speak to you in private about you-know-what"

Or, you-know-who, more precisely.

"Joker if you're just going to keep repeating how crazy I am—"

"No, not at all. The opposite, actually, I kind of... believe you now."

Your eyes were glued to the screen, you've never seen a version of this scene like this before. Was this an easter egg you somehow triggered? Scrapped voicelines uncovered? They were talking so vividly, without requiring a single input from you.

"What changed?"

"The spirit's preference for pilots, it seems."

"The what?" You and Jacob said at the same time, completely baffled at the direction this conversation was heading.

Shepard gave Joker a long stare, as if attempting to decipher his words. "You're right, let's move this somewhere private."

The scene ended, the autosave icon flashed, and you sat there dumbfounded at what you just saw. Spirit? Was there a Halloween prank update or something? You debated the authenticity of what you just saw as you moved Shepard around, testing the buttons and response time, the delay issue seems to have fixed itself.

You didn't touch any other mods besides the savefile editor. Unless the version you installed had a trojan. You were too preoccupied with searching up for any alternative variations of this cutscene online to notice that the Joker mission segment you just played was half its usual length.

The game kept running in the background as you sifted through one reddit thread after another, speeding through old video uploads of this cutscene in hopes of finding one different version even vaguely resembling your own.

All to no avail.

Did you actually see what you think you saw? Or have you been binge playing Mass Effect a little too much these days. Believing it to be an acutely vivid daydream was far easier than comprehending your game glitch-birthing a new scene entirely with full voice acting.

As you exited the game, you decided to take a break from the trilogy after finishing the last mission. Maybe play something else before starting with the third game. Maybe finally tackle your long overdue backlog of a library?

-

"I knew something was wrong when I didn't sense their presence during the mission like usual" Shepard leaned back against the bench, glazed eyes going over the artificial gardens of the Citadel. "If only I had turned back, Chakwas and the crew would still be here."

"Are they always tagging along on your missions?" Joker replied.

"Never missed a single one." Not since they came back to life, at least. "I wasn't at my best during it, kept thinking I must've done something wrong to upset them." Shepard gave a weak smile "To think they were busy saving you and the ship while I was sulking over losing their attention."

Joker never knew what to say during these hard conversations, so he did what he does best, diversion. "But damn, no wonder you're as fearless as you are on the battlefield. I tell you, I felt like I was on top of the world when they were around." He looked at Shepard, "Not cool of em to ditch me to do the rest on my own, though" Joker said under his breath, "but I managed, even if I almost pissed my pants."

"Yeah, they come and go as they please. You get used to it." Except Shepard's never gotten used to it, the small tragedy of losing you over and over, time after time. Not knowing when you'll turn up again, or for how long you'll stay this time around.

Wanting the missions to last longer just to be able to spend a little more time with you, to bask in your presence a bit more, even if it meant putting their life on the line on a dangerous battlefield for long periods.

"Are you sure they're a supernatural spirit? The EDI situation got me thinking, what if they're a nano chip? Or oh! oh! What if they're a miniscule alien race that transcends barriers?"

"I've had tests done, Joker, if they were anything but supernatural, then Miranda or Liara would've found something." Shepard replied without thinking, still lingering on the brief meeting the two of you had just an hour ago back at the ship. The immense relief they felt at being welcomed by your presence first thing after stepping onto the ship again was all they needed to keep a level head during this grim nightmare of their entire crew being taken behind their back.

"Wait what?" Joker raised an eyebrow, "you had tests done? I thought Thane was the only one you went to?"

Strangely, both statements felt true to Shepard despite their contradicting logic. "It was before Thane, first there was Liara and after them there was Miranda and—" Shepard paused. "It was... I can't remember." But they swear it happened. Despite how detached from reality these memories felt.

Opening their Omni-tool, they checked their account balance.

2490 Credits.

"Joker, did Garrus ever make a move on me?"

"Garrus? Not that I know of. I'm not even sure he's into humans—at least, based on his browser history. Hey don't give me that look, EDI has access to all ship-personale user data and sometimes I'm bored, okay?"

... But why the money? Was it a hint? A message? Through all of their walks through the Citadel, you only ever pushed them into practical purchases, armour, and weapon upgrades. Well, only recently did Shepard find out about your newfounded taste for aquatic pets and ship models for some reason.

Where did you get the money from to begin with? It couldn't materialise from thin air. It has to have stemmed from somewhere. They need to follow the river to its source. Maybe, somehow, it will lead to them getting closer to you...

And there was only one person on this ship capable of such a task.

Throwing caution to the wind, Shepard marched towards Miranda's office on the lower deck. They knew the second Miranda sniffs wind of their predicament, their unruly contractor will as well, if not the entirety of the Cerberus division. Consequences be damned, Shepard just needed an answer, a speck of evidence of your separate existence. They're aware you're not part of them, but this might prove that you see and witness more of their world than Thane ever claimed is possible for a guardian angel. Since when did angels commit financial fraud?

Maybe Miranda had a history of dealing with madness-ridden people, maybe she has more respect for the chain of command than to openly express displeasure with her commander, or maybe just maybe her poker face is really that good.

Because she wasn't phased all that much following Shepard's longwinded explanation, a condensed summary of this presence hovering around them for the past years, the same so-called spirit now having somehow deposited nearly a billion credits into their bank account without raising any security alarms.

The subtle shift in her demeanour once she saw the evidence with her own eyes wasn't lost on Shepard. Finally, she's considering taking this more seriously than a case of post-surgery psychosis.

She called the bank, she sent private investigators, and she even traced the serial code embedded into every single credit chip... all to no avail.

The more she dug, the more and more alarmed the authorities became. The bank itself never printed the receipt of any deposit that day, yet the transaction flags as legit in their system despite every single information box remaining empty.

It is as if the credits spawned out of oblivion.

Even the most expert money laundering schemes leave some kind of traces behind. Miranda wasn't convinced. This didn't make any sense.

So she asked to speak with the culprit themselves, inquiring about Shepard having a conversation with this so-called spirit they claim is attached to them at the hip. Only to be denied, you haven't even spoken once to Shepard before. How in the world would they secure a conversation between you and Miranda? You were a distant ghost on the best of days and a vague abstract on the worst.

Now came the consequences they so dreaded, Miranda requiring them to submit to a full brain scan and psychological evaluation. Maybe this is some advanced hacker they're dealing with. Maybe one of the scientists slipped a chip into their brain. Hard logic and empirical evidence is how the world functions. She's sorry, Shepard, but she can't accept the supernatural as a good enough answer.

Then how can she explain the credit transfer?

She can't. Which is why it's so important they hurry with these scans and tests. The ploy being played here might be the financial scheme of the century of some clever mastermind attempting to pin government money embezzlement on the already disgraced commander.

That's one ally down the drain.

Thankfully, duty called. The two of them couldn't stay in Miranda's office playing patient and doctor all day. There were missions to be done, enemies to defeat, near-death instances to experience, clean armour to cover with blood, gore, and mud.

And most importantly, you.

Your presence washed over them the second they stepped in front of the galactic map. A soothing balm cooling off their heated nerves, a veil soft as the petals of pomegranate flowers draped over their entire being, a guiding hand coaxing them along. No fear of the unknown ever remains with you nearby. Shepard would walk into a reaper's ship if it was your angelic presence tugging them by the strings of their heart along.

You urged them off the platform, and they abided by your whim. Going along as you directed them towards the lower deck, a change of plans as the mission selection process came to a halt.

Instead, heading towards... the main battery room?

"Shepard... need me for something?"

The words formed in Shepard's mind. You wanted to speak to him.

"Yeah." They weren't sure where this was going, "have you got a minute?"

The door to the battery room automatically closed behind them to offer a resemblance of privacy, leaving them and Garrus the only two people in this small room.

"Yeah, I've been thinking about what we talked about—blowing off steam... mmm easing tension..."

The speck of dread from earlier this morning reared its head again, the very same one Shepard buried deep down in order to focus on the more pleasant aspects of your influence, the possibility of actually meeting you.

The turian went on, unaware of the inner turmoil brewing within his commander's mind. "I've never considered cross-species intercourse... and the damn—"

"What are you going on about?" They interrupted. "Garrus, I told you yesterday, we're just friends."

The confused look on the turian's face said something else entirely.

Is that... was that a sigh they heard just now? Not from Garrus, no. It was you. The sound was faint but it was definitely—

You closed the game, not bothering to save beforehand. Immediately checking the savefile editor, the romance flag checkbox is right there, checked out.

This is exhausting, and it's getting late. Spending all night attempting to get this stupid romance route to work would just frustrate you more.

You'll call it a day and head to bed, mess with more mods tomorrow, and if nothing works. Oh well, you can always just watch the romance on YouTube.

-

"You sure you weren't dreaming? All those calibrations are getting to your head, Garrus."

"Shepard, I swear by the spirits, we had a completely different conversation yesterday. I'm not making this up."

They're not sure what to believe anymore.

You wouldn't attempt to force them into something they didn't want, would you?

Would you?

The billion credits sitting in their account tell a different story.

"Maybe I was dreaming, I... I'm really sorry, Shepard. I must be coming off as pushy and desperate."

They should feel betrayed, they should feel violated, cheated even... and yet.

"I'll lay off those midnight snacks and give Dr. Chakwas a visit... It can't be the calibrations' fault, can it?"

Guardian angels can't be malicious.

You're not one.

Thane's words ring in their ears.

"Even if it was, if spending less time near the battery means never experiencing another embarrassing conversation like this in my life ever again, then it's worth it... uh Shepard, you okay? You've been staring at the wall for a while. Is this another human thing?"

You can't have feelings for guardian angels, they'll never return them.

You're not ruled by a defined set of morals. You're capable of sin, of wronging Shepard, of leading them off the cliff, of having your own selfish desires to pressure them into.

You're flawed. You're not a spirit, not an angel, not an omnipotent god, not some eldritch horror.

But only a person.

The ice cubes clinked against the glass cup, fizzy foam forming atop your soda as they melted, diluting the sugary drink.

It was flattering the first few times an alien gawked at them, attempted to sneakily snap a pic of them, ask for a photograph, in that order.

After all, Shepard was a nobody in the eye of the galactic masses the last time they stepped a foot on the Citadel, even if they've had a reputation amongst humanity—but as the rumours of their supposed "coming back to life" spread further and further like wild fire, their newly founded fame was becoming nothing short of debilitating.

And no one in their crew seemed to relate.

"See it's because I knew better than to show my face, let the Archangel name speak for itself" The turian attempted to keep a facade of nonchalance, positioning himself so the light reflected just right off of the totally cool badass scar on his face.

"That and the fact no one could get close enough to your camping spot to see your face without being sniped from across the map." Crossing off another item from the list on his Omni-tool, Joker was down to only two items remaining.

You're still at the menu screen.

Shepard can sense the familiar signs of your presence hovering nearby, and yet, their body feels as hollow and cold as ever. Where were you? Why aren't you with them?

"How come I don't get any of that celebrity treatment? I was there too, people! Or do they think Shepard was steering the Normandy with one hand while fisting Saren with the other." That got a snicker out of the turian next to him.

Were you mad at them? Did they do something wrong? Their eyes scanned the various merchandise on the shelves, hoping for something to coax you out of hiding.

"—And with the discount from the recorded endorsement message, the total comes to 1400 credits. Will that be all for today?" The asari cashier chirped up, practiced a smile and overly friendly tone.

"Yeah, and uh... how much for the Destiny Ascension model?" Akin to an offering left at the altar of a displeased god, Shepard hoped this might appease you.

Or, at the very least, summon your presence to them. This never happened before. They know you're out there. They can feel you at the tip of their fingers, at the ends of their hair, hues shifting in the corner of their visions like phantoms.

"That'll be 500 extra credits, 416 with the discount."

Just their luck.

"Sheesh," Joker inhaled sharply, "Commander, unless you're planning to expand your resume and become an idol part-timer, then our budget doesn't allow for that."

"Who knows, maybe Shepard's devoted fanbase will throw money at us if we stand very still in the centre of the Presidium" Garrus purred back a little too eagerly for someone who was just claiming how not-bitter he is for having his secret alter ego remain secret.

Again. No sign of your presence, your actual presence. Only the vague anticipation of something coming, of the skies preparing to part like curtains for you to descend.

"Forget it," bringing up their omni-tool, Shepard paid for the original items, "let's just get what we came here for and hurry back aboard."

"Aye Aye Captain."

"Garrus, you're on bag duty. Joker—"

You loaded the savefile.

Their breath hitched, and a familiar feeling weighed down on them like a comforting blanket, a spring breeze filling their lungs.

"...I'll head to Normandy. You two handle this on your own."

Finally, oh how they've missed you.

As the loading screen faded out of view, the world rendered from around you. Shepard was at the very same spot where you last left them, standing in front of the galactic map. The familiar sound of Kelly reminding you of the new emails on your terminal.

Where were you again? Oh, yeah, Mordin's loyalty mission.

Strangely enough, Garrus was absent from the crewmates selection screen. You grimaced, the bugs are hard at work it seems. Just your luck to get a cursed savefile.

Fine. Sure. Whatever. You won't let that ruin your mood. Maybe it was a good thing. Especially with how immensely disappointed you were after watching Garrus romance scenes on YouTube. Really? A fade to black? Good thing it bugged out, otherwise it'd have been a waste of your time and effort.

Your aim must be sharper than usual today... Did Shepard always have these many hitpoints? Wow, that speed, this can't be vanilla. Ugh, did the save editor mess with your savefile?

No way, you swear you reloaded a backed up one. This should be a clean slate.

Not that you're complaining, after all the infuriating bugs and misclicks, being at the other end of the stick feels kinda good for once. You're not totally op, but noticeably stronger than your last session.

It was so fun, in fact, that you kept gunning one mission after another. Even the Garrus bug seemed to fix itself after the Mordin loyalty mission.

You were oblivious to the ticking of the clock, and your now lukewarm flat soda.

And Shepard? Oh Shepard.

They were on cloud nine. It might have been an extra couple hours of playtime for you, but with the amount of progress you've made, a whole week had passed from their point of view.

A whole week with you by their side.

Ah. They see the error of their ways. They pushed back, so you've kept your distance. They made you feel unwanted with their constant display of independence, didn't they?

Their intentions were pure. They simply wanted to prove the existence of their own volition. But apparently, it only served to hurt you instead.

Did you come back because of their gesture of attempting to buy the ship model? Were you watching them from oblivion?

How they wish to talk to you, have one small conversation, if you are truly a person capable of speech. They're not too keen on the idea of you being a simple benevolent spirit, a mere force of the universe not that different from gravity or the change of seasons.

They're growing closer to their crew, thanks to you, that they can clearly see. Who would've known Mordin kept such a secret? Or the extent of how much Grunt repressed his nature. You seem to care for all of those people, based on the words you manifest for Shepard to say.

Well, almost all of them.

You had a defiant side that broke through whenever it was a one on one meeting between Shepard and The Illusive man himself.

You weren't a fan of Cerberus, they gathered.

Shepard themselves felt indifferent towards the whole operation. They could wrap their heads around why a group like this is a necessary evil for humanity, as much as they could also picture why someone would completely resent them—if their previous crewmate's tantrum on Horizon was anything to go by.

Maybe, if you had asked them about Cerberus three years ago, they would've given a completely different answer.

But as it stands today, it's the people closest to them who turned their back on Shepard, whilst the scum of the earth fished their charred corpses out of orbit, nursed and nurtured them, and welcomed them with open arms.

How confusing it was to wake up to a world full of anger at them for coming back to life. For supposedly tarnishing the image of a noble martyr.

To prefer them to remain a hero 6 feet in the ground than to see them alive walking on the surface—a flawed person, yes, but alive all the same.

Not like they even had a choice or say in the matter. Their birth, death, and reincarnation, they didn't have a say in any of them.

Which might just be the fate awaiting their future demise, when the bell tolls for them a second time, to die twice in one lifetime, and it won't even be out of their own choosing, but another matter-of-fact forced upon them, another burden to carry, another sacrifice in the name of the greater good.

Unlike you.

You who never forced them into anything.

Always phrased things as a suggestion.

Always asked them to move forward, never pulled them like a dog on a leash to fight their battles.

Became their strength from within, their voice of reason at times of strife.

You who never forced them into anything.

Kind, merciful, thought, pure hearted you.

You chose them to bless with your presence, your guidance, and your selfless labour.

Truly a guardian angel.

You who never forced them into anything.

You saw them as they are, understood them better than anyone else. Not as some tool to use for your own bidding like the council views them as, neither as a mascot to push more propaganda like the alliance have been shaping them up to be.

But as Shepard.

You who never forced them into anything.

With the sunrays peaking through the curtains, the sound of birds squeaking outside, and the sticky dryness of your eyes, you knew you've been staring at a screen too long for what's humanly recommended and socially acceptable.

It took you so many hours, a couple of open browser tabs with guides, but you've finally found all collectable ships and fish within the game.

All loyalty missions were taken care of, all dlc stories done.

Tomorrow, first thing after coming back from work, you're going to immediately book it to the Omega Relay.

Fuck the collectors, fuck the illusive man, and fuck this haunted savefile.

One last mission then it's goodbye ME2 and hello ME3!

-

"You really left me stranded with Garrus on the Citadel?? I mean, what were you thinking, Commander? What, so just because EDI can fly the ship, I'm suddenly disposable?"

"It was an urgent matter, you wouldn't understand. I had something important—"

"IMPORTANT?!" used to witnessing these arguments between these two by now, none of the Cerberus crew on the bridge were exactly phased by Joker's loud burst. "What could possibly be so important that you couldn't wait five minutes for the pilot of the damn ship."

"...."

"Yeah. Thought so. Listen, I know things have been tough on you, coming back from the dead and all. But you're seriously starting to freak me out here, commander. This past month something about you just been... off"

"If I tell you, you'll think I'm a nutjob."

"Well, for one: I already think that. And two—" Joker covered the glowing orb of which EDI speaks from, to have an illusion of privacy as he lowered his voice. "Is this about what happened on Horizon? never took you for the type to get hung up over an ex. I could try to reach out and maybe arrange a reconcile dinner—"

"No. Absolutely not. I'll throw you out the airlock."

"Then spill already, Shepard. You're really giving thriller authors a run for their money."

"Fine. Tomorrow, the left wing of the Presidium, 5 sharp."

"Nuh uh, you talk right here right now. How can I be sure you won't sneak off with my baby again and leave poor me to fend for himself on alien streets."

"Name your price."

"Your spectre access card, let me borrow it for a day"

"Joker—No. That's a federal crime."

"Umm no it's not? The Citadel isn't part of the federation. It's a galactic crime."

"That worse, you know that's worse right?"

"Then at least take me on a tour inside, please, been dying to know what goes on behind that freaky spectre access only door. Is it like a BDSM club with asari in full body leather carrying your guns around and—"

"No asari, just a shooting range, a terminal, and some screens. I think... a hanar urinal too. Very anticlimactic stuff, still wanna see it?

"duh?"