Archive of Our Own ^beta

The first thing she sees after she opens her eyes and almost gags pulling the oxygen tube out of her throat is him. 

"Are you fucking kidding me right now? Are you smoking in a goddamn hospital room?!"

"Good to see you too, Shepard," he says, unaffected, blinking at her with those bright, glowing eyes that have been hazed over somewhat, with something she doesn't recognize. 

Of course he doesn't address the problem, so she decides to ignore him, and decides after that to settle back into the pillows in the hospital bed. It hurts, everything does, but not nearly as sharply as it should.

It should hurt, because she'd nearly had to pull her way up the citadel, after dealing with him, and with Anderson. It should hurt more. Why doesn't it?

As if hearing her question, the Not-So-Illusive Man puts out his  cigarette on the bedside table and his eyes once again flit to her. "Being a war hero has it's perks. Clearly, you've been given much more pain medication than they've ever given me."

"I almost died," she counters without thinking about it. 

"You did die," he tells her. "Dragging you and Anderson to safety was a nightmare, by the way. You're just lucky I didn't have to rebuild you again, I might have decided to make a couple changes this time. More obedient, for one." The last part is - well, if the way his mouth flicks upward is any indication, it's a joke.

It's a joke in poor taste, anyways.

"You saved us? How'd you -"

"It's -" he pauses to slowly turn on to his side and roll away the blanket to reveal the arm he hadn't been using just moments before. It's still mostly...mostly reaper. Mostly technology. "A very specific brand of complicated. As for why. That's easy. I'm not stupid, Shepard, or even optimistic. But we're not done. We're only getting started."