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(Flashback - John's POV - 2183 AC)
The Citadel shimmered outside Anderson’s office, a breathtaking vista marred by the scars of Sovereign's attack. The Captain’s bars felt heavy against my skin. I’d clawed my way out of Earth’s slums, through the Alliance, into the N7 program, driven by a single promise made long ago: "We’ll get off this slum, Jane. I swear it. I won’t let anything happen to you. That's what big brothers are for."
Anderson, now Councilor Anderson, stood with his back to me, shoulders tight with tension.
The comm crackled. Hackett’s strained voice: “Councilor Anderson, we have a situation. The Normandy… she’s been attacked.”
My blood ran cold.
“Casualties?” Anderson’s voice was sharp.
“We don’t know the full extent yet.… but…”
A sickening lurch in my gut. But.
Anderson turned, concern etching his face. “I’m sorry, son…” His voice cracked.
The confirmation came later: Commander Jane Shepard “The Butcher of Torfan”, presumed KIA. The words were a brutal blow. KIA. I'd been on the Citadel, debating politics, strategizing, while Jane faced the enemy alone. My promise, broken. I closed my eyes, the weight of my failure crushing me.
(Two Days Later)
As I watched the Citadel shrink through the viewport of my new ship, nerves gnawed at me. My destination: Alchera.
(Present - John's POV - 2186 AC)
The Citadel shuddered around me, a symphony of groaning metal and crackling energy. We’d made it. Against all odds, Jane and I had fought our way through, clawing inch by inch through corridors choked with husks and Marauders. The others… Garrus, Tali, Liara… they weren’t down, not yet, but they were hurt, battered, their strength spent. They'd given everything to get us here. Now, it fell to us, alone in the heart of the enemy, to finish this fight.
“Shepard, veer left. There’s a clear path to the central control chamber,” EDI’s voice, calm amidst the chaos, guided us. Jane moved beside me.
We rounded a corner, and there he was. The Illusive Man. Indoctrinated, eyes burning with eerie blue light. The fight was brutal, a desperate, close-quarters struggle fueled by the knowledge that everything rested on this.
Finally, with a guttural cry, he collapsed, dissolving into dust. A heavy silence descended.
We reached the controls. With a final surge of energy, the Citadel’s arms unfolded, opening a path for the Crucible. The colossal ship docked, locking into place with a resounding clang that echoed through the station.
“Crucible docked and locked,” EDI confirmed. “Manual activation is required. Shepard, the Crucible’s energy surge will disable all Reaper technology within its effective radius.”
“Including the Citadel?” Jane’s voice was tight with apprehension beside me.
“Affirmative. The Reapers have positioned the Citadel directly above London. Its mass effect fields are the only thing preventing it from being pulled into Earth’s gravity. Once the Crucible fires…”
“London…” Jane whispered. “How long?”
“Insufficient time for a full evacuation after activation. Someone has to stay.”
“Hackett,” I barked into the comm, “initiate evacuation protocols for London. Get everyone clear!”
“Acknowledged, Shepard. But EDI informs me—”
“I know.” I cut him off, my gaze fixed on Jane. No buts this time. I won't fail her.
(Jane’s POV)
“Someone has to stay.” John’s voice was flat, emotionless. But I knew him. Saw the set of his jaw, the glint of resolve. He was planning something stupid. Heroic, maybe. Suicidal, definitely.
“No,” I snarled. The word ripped from my throat. “Absolutely fucking not.”
He turned, his expression a mask. “Jane—”
“Don’t ‘Jane’ me, John! You think I’m going to let you—!”
“Someone has to do it,” he interrupted, his voice hard. “And it’s not going to be you.”
“Why the hell not?! I’m just as capable—”
“You’ve already done your part.” His voice softened, just a fraction. “You’ve already made your sacrifice.”
Fury, hot and blinding, surged through me. I slammed my fist against the console, the metal groaning under the impact. “Don’t you fucking dare pull that card, John! Don't you dare talk about sacrifice like you own the goddamn concept!”
“I failed you once, Jane. I’m not failing you again.”
“So what, this makes it even?! Dying here absolves you?! You think this erases everything?!” My voice cracked. I hated the tremor of fear, the sting of tears threatening to spill.
“It’s my duty, Jane. As a soldier. As a brother.” His eyes were fixed on the Crucible, its energy humming a deadly lullaby.
I screamed at him, “Screw your duty! What about me ? What about us ?!”
“Then we do it together!” I lunged for the activation panel, my fingers brushing against the cold metal.
He grabbed my arm, yanking me back with brutal force. “Jane, stop! It’s my decision!”
“Screw your decision! I'm not letting you kill yourself!” I fought him, twisting and turning, desperate to reach the panel. “We do this together, damn it!”
He pulled me back, hard. “No! You have died once Jane, we got your life back I won't let you throw it away!”
“And what about you! I’m not a little girl anymore!” I kicked, a sharp blow to his shin. He grunted, but held on.
“Stop it, Jane! Don’t make this harder!”
“Harder?! You’re abandoning me!” The Normandy, the fire, the wreckage… A blind, furious punch to his jaw.
He staggered, his eyes filled with pain. “Don’t do this, Jane. Please.”
"Why?! Why do you always get to be the hero?!" I screamed, hitting him again.
He caught my wrists. "Because someone has to. And you deserve to live." He pinned me against the console. "I won't let you do this."
I struggled, panting. "Let me go! Damn you, John! Let me go!"
"I can't," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm sorry."
He leaned down, his forehead against mine. "Live, Jane. Live for both of us.”
He didn’t even flinch. Just stood there, rigid, the weight of his decision pressing down on him. “This isn't just about us, Jane. It’s about everyone down there, everyone in the galaxy. The future they deserve.”
“Then let me fight for that future, goddamn it! We can do this together !”
He still held me by the arm in a vice grip I couldn’t get out of it, he moved me near the doors, I tried to fight back to but I fucking couldn’t.
He sighed, a weary, world-weary sound “Captain’s orders, Jane.” His grip tightened on my arm, a silent plea for understanding.
I struggled against him, but he held fir.m. “Let. Me. Go.”
“No, Jane. This is how it has to be.”
He threw me outside the room and the door shut, I was on the door almost immediately pounding and punching.
"EDI! Open this fucking door! Damn it!"
“I don’t have access Shepard”, EDI replied.
I kept punching, tears streaming. "John! John!, OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!”
Finally after some time, the fight drained out of me, leaving a hollow ache. “Fuck,” I whispered, the word heavy with despair. “Just… fuck.” I saluted, a shaky, tear-stained gesture. “Go to hell, John.” I turned to leave, each step a lead weight dragging me away.
“Fuck…FUCK….FUCK.” And then I ran, the memories of Earth a torrent of pain and love crashing over me - the slums, the fights, how he taught me to survive, how to handle myself, How I always looked up to him, his hand always reaching out, pulling me back from the brink. Now, I was leaving him on the brink. For me. For Earth. For everyone. And I hated him for it.
His voice kept echoing in my mind as I ran "We’ll get off this slum, Jane. I swear it. I won’t let anything happen to you. That's what big brothers are for."
(John’s POV)
The sounds of Jane punching the door stopped, my heart a lead weight in my chest.
I was alone. The silence of the Citadel pressed in, a deafening emptiness. Minutes crawled by, each one a hammer blow against my resolve.
Leaving Jane… that was the hardest part. But she wouldn’t be alone. Liara, the crew… they'd see her through. Miranda…
I thought about our first meeting, the tension, the distrust. The Lazarus Project, the shared goal – Jane. She’d opened up, slowly, cautiously. I'd helped protect Oriana. I… I'd fallen for her. And now I was leaving her, too.
Ten minutes. EDI's voice cut through the silence. “Shepard, confirmation: Normandy departed. En route to Earth.”
Good.
I took a deep breath, the stale air of the Citadel filling my lungs for the last time. My hand hovered over the button, a galaxy’s fate beneath my fingertip.
I pressed it.
Blinding white light. Then, the red wave. Washing over the Citadel, a silent, inexorable tide. I watched it spread, reaching the relay, the planet below. Beautiful. Terrible. Necessary.
The Citadel’s lights flickered, died. The hum of the mass effect fields vanished. A sickening lurch. A low groan of metal stressed past its limits. We were moving. Falling.
I put on my helmet. The click of the seals a small, hollow comfort. The groaning intensified, turning into a screech. The deck tilted beneath my feet. I grabbed a railing, the metal cold against my glove. The station shuddered, the lights sparking, flickering, dying. Emergency lighting bathed the room in a sickly red glow. The world outside the viewport became a blur of blue and green, rushing up to meet us.
The scream of twisting metal echoed around me. Debris rained down, the station tearing itself apart. I could feel the g-force pressing me into the deck, stealing my breath. The viewport cracked, spiderwebbing outward. Earth filled my vision, a beautiful, vibrant blue and green sphere, rushing towards me with terrifying speed. My grip on the railing tightened, knuckles white. And then… a deafening roar. A blinding flash. Oblivion.
(Jane's POV)
The Normandy’s engines roared as we took off from the citadel. I reached the port observation window just as the Citadel shrank into the distance.
Soon enough we were on earth about to land on a base not that far from london but safe enough.
Then, the red light. It washed over the Normandy, a silent, ethereal wave. EDI’s voice vanished from the comms, replaced by static. A chilling silence descended. And then… I saw it.
The Citadel. a burning inferno against the darkening sky. Falling. A forty-kilometer monument, now a blazing meteor hurtling towards Earth.
My breath hitched. I stumbled back, my legs giving way. I landed on my knees, my hands flying to my mouth, stifling a sob. Tears streamed down my face, blurring the horrific spectacle unfolding before me. John… gone.
Liara’s arms wrapped around me, her warmth a small comfort against the icy grip of despair. I leaned into her, letting the sobs wrack my body.
"Damn it, John," I thought, the words a choked whisper lost in the roar of the falling Citadel.
(Miranda’s POV)
The static-laced feed flickered on the screen, a chaotic jumble of explosions and energy blasts. The Citadel. The final stand. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the rising tide of anxiety. Information was scarce, fragmented whispers over secured channels. I hated the uncertainty, the not knowing. He promised he’d come back. He promised.
Then, I saw it. Even from this distance, it was impossible to miss. A forty-kilometer inferno, a burning tear in the fabric of the sky. The Citadel. Falling.
My breath caught in my throat, a strangled gasp. My hand, unbidden, went to my belly, a protective gesture I hadn’t even realized I’d made.
"John," I whispered, my voice barely audible above the thrum of the emergency generators powering the makeshift Alliance base. "Please… be safe."