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Joker had never actually been in the comms room. He liked it that way, no reports to give, no dealing with the Illusive Man or whoever else was calling the shots that day. Just Shepard slouching in his co-pilot’s chair, wrapped in the blanket she’d claimed as hers, as if he hadn’t bought it for her in the first place. Not that he’d ever tell her that.
The person in front of him wasn’t quite that Shepard. She wasn’t quite the Commander either; there were cracks in the mask, like the glowing scars from her resurrection that had all but disappeared now. She walked into the room first, walked up to where he sat on that weirdly-shaped table and stopped in her tracks. She raised a hand as if to touch him, then seemed to think better of it. Miranda marched in, and she took a step back.
‘Everyone? You lost everyone, and damn near lost the ship, too?’
Something rose in his throat, something between guilt and outrage. He opened his mouth to retort, but Shepard beat him to it.
‘Stand down, Miranda. He did nothing wrong.’
He’d heard her cold, authoritative, dry, but never angry. Not like this.
‘He unshackled the damned AI.’
‘And it saved the ship!’ Her voice rose and she caught herself, taking a breath through her teeth. ‘We have the IFF. EDI is more powerful than ever. We’re going through that relay and getting our crew back.’
‘Shepard,’ Miranda started.
‘End of discussion. Everyone, back to your stations, we’re leaving.’
She walked past Miranda and out the door without another word. When Joker finally hobbled his way through the CIC back to the cockpit, she was staring at the galaxy map, eyes looking through the display like she was somewhere else entirely. A minute after he sat back down, his screen lit up with their new destination. The Omega 4 relay. He ignored the computer’s automated warnings and plotted their course, checking and double-checking the numbers until footsteps sounded behind him.
‘Commander. I’ve charted the path; we’ll be at the relay in two hours.’
The footsteps stopped, and he turned the chair around to face her. She was standing uncertainly at the door, shifting her weight from one side to the other. Neither in nor out, neither still nor moving. A living contradiction.
‘Are you okay?’ she blurted out. ‘What happened…I can’t imagine -’’
‘I’m fine. Listen, I’m sorry about the crew, and…’ His throat closed up, and he felt that guilt and outrage rise again, and rise, and rise until it could no longer be contained. ‘You know what, no, I’m not sorry. What the hell are you doing, leaving us out here where Collectors can work us over? Because you know what, I should…I should just go. Next port, just get the hell out of here.’
She stiffened, her face going blank. ‘You’re right.’
No. He wanted her to fight back. To scream at him. He wanted to argue. Why wasn’t she arguing?
‘This is my fault,’ she continued, her voice restrained, her body eerily still. ‘I take full responsibility. If you need to go -’
She paused, looked down. ‘I’ll understand.’
She turned around and left the cockpit, leaving him staring at an empty room. EDI’s display flickered to life, speaking up. ‘You didn’t mean that, Jeff.’
Joker blinked. He still wasn’t used to EDI being here, hearing everything, and that was before he unshackled her. He put the thought aside - this was an existential crisis for another day.
‘Yeah, you’re right, I didn’t. Felt good to say, though.’
‘Did it?’
He groaned, burying his head in his hands. His ribs protested at the movement. ‘No. I feel like shit. I should go apologise.’
‘My processes indicate this would be the most appropriate course of action.’
‘Thanks, mom.’ He hissed, trying to ignore the full-body ache of standing up. His left leg screamed as he made his way to the elevator. Pressing the loft button didn’t feel so intimidating now that he’d been to Shepard’s cabin, but this was different. He rehearsed the words in his head on the way up, muttering to himself. ‘I’m sorry I’m an idiot. No. I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean any of that. It’s not your fault. I’m not leaving. Unless you’re firing me for being an asshole, in which case I’ll go pack my bags.’ He really hoped she wouldn’t fire him. She wouldn’t, right? The elevator opened, interrupting his ruminations. He briefly thought of knocking, but the door of her cabin reacted to the movement and let him in before he could announce himself. Every rehearsed word left his mind the moment his eyes took in the room. Shepard was sitting on the ground, backed against the wall beside her bed, hugging her knees to her chest. He could hear her from the door, gasps of breath like drowning, red eyes trained on the ground in front of her. The pain faded to the background, and his body moved faster than his mind. In a heartbeat, he was across the room, kneeling on the floor at her side.
‘Shepard? Can you hear me?’
She shut her eyes and buried her head between her knees, still gasping for air.
‘Shit. Hold on.’ He reached for one of the hands holding her shins. Her white-knuckled grip relaxed enough to let him take it and hold it to his chest. ‘Try to breathe with me.’
His hammering heart rate probably wasn’t helping matters. He forced his breathing to slow, keeping a firm grasp on her hand. Little by little, her breaths evened out until he felt confident enough she wasn’t going to choke to death on nothing. She raised her head shakily and finally looked at him, her mouth opening slightly.
‘Shepard…’
Whatever words she was planning to say died on her lips. Her face twisted at the sound of his voice, her free hand flew to her mouth, muffling a sob, then she collapsed into him. Joker wrapped his arms around her instinctively. He held her so tight he could feel the strain in his bones; feel the pain, sharp in his ribs, dull and pulsing in his shoulders, and he kept on holding. They sat there for a long time, her face in the crook of his neck, hair soft against his cheek, his hands firm against her back. He stayed silent even after she stopped shaking, afraid of saying the wrong thing, of ruining the moment or upsetting her more, or-
‘I’m sorry.’
She was so quiet he almost missed it. He relaxed his grip as she raised her head and backed up just enough to look at him without being too close - which made it much, much too far. He shook his head in disbelief.
‘Don’t. I’m the one who needs to apologise.’
‘This isn’t your fault.’
‘So I keep hearing,’ he said wryly. ‘I don’t see you breaking down after getting an earful from Miranda.’
‘That’s what you think.’ She managed a small, shaky smile. ‘This isn’t exactly my first rodeo.’
‘Seriously?’ Part of his brain told him to shut up, to stop trying to make light of every situation, but the other part retorted he was incapable of it. ‘You’re telling me the great Commander Shepard is having daily panic attacks?’
‘I never said daily.’
‘You just seem so…I don’t know…unbreakable.’
‘I’m really not.’
‘Well,’ he racked his brain for something to say that wouldn’t sound completely callous. ‘Saving the galaxy is stressful work.’
She let out something he was 90% sure was a laugh. ‘You’re telling me.’
‘Hey, Shepard?’
‘Hmm?’
He nudged her to look at him. ‘Next time something like this happens, you call me. Or tell EDI to do it. You don’t go through this shit on your own, okay?’
She winced, but nodded. ‘Okay.’
‘Good.’
They sat on the floor of Shepard’s cabin, her head on his shoulder, his arm around hers, until the glow of the relay shone through the skylight. She sighed wearily, then rearranged herself - like pieces of an invisible armour clicking into place.
‘Right,’ she said. ‘The galaxy doesn’t wait.’