Chapter Text
"Do you want to get something to eat?" Garrus suggested, once they left the docking area.
"Fuck off." Jack thought she said it pretty nicely. "You don't have to hang around with me for Shepard's sake."
"Maybe I want to."
Jack hitched her bag further up her shoulder. "Do you know what I can do with these clothes she gave me? Something she'd approve of."
"There's an all-species domestic violence shelter in Bachjret Ward, at least there was. They could probably use them." He fiddled with his omnitool for a moment and sent something to hers. “That's their business office."
"Thanks." She turned towards the transit station.
"Jack, I still have friends in C-Sec if you get in any kind of trouble."
She raised her middle finger over her shoulder without looking back.
"She loves you."
Jack knew that. She could feel the echo of Shepard's hands on her skin, moving with soft intensity that asked nothing from her but permission. If the loss of it didn't break her, it might be enough to save her from herself.
By the time she found the shelter office, which took over an hour with all the back-tracking and going in circles and one detour to find a damn restroom, she was tired and hungry. The Normandy's human day/night cycle and three solid meals had made her soft. Might as well finish what she came for, though. Then she could worry about food.
The building it was in had storefronts on the first few levels, but the office was on a higher floor, a business section that didn’t get much foot traffic. The front room had two desks, the kind with high, wrap-around shelves on the outside. Only one was occupied, by a full-figured, matronly asari whose lavender complexion was so pale Jack wondered if there were asari albinos. She was talking into a headset, with side comments directed at her omnitool, and typing intermittently on two terminals.
"She's gone where? But the child is still there? All right, can you notify C-Sec? I've got another call and a walk-in."
She glanced up at Jack, then offered a datapad from a stack. "Just fill this out. I'll be with you as soon as I can."
Her attention returned to the headset. "Sorry, I'm back. What happened? Oh, goddess. Do they really think a restraining order is going to stop a jealous elcor?"
Jack frowned at the datapad, realizing it was some sort of intake form. She slapped it down on the shelf. "I don't need help."
Ignoring the asari's startled flinch, she dropped her bag and pulled out the smaller sack with Shepard's clothes. She reshouldered the bag and stuck the sack on the narrow shelf, beside the datapad, where it promptly overbalanced and started to spill its contents onto the desk.
Jack was already on her way out as the asari scrambled to contain the clothes. "Ma'am, the donation center - "
Around the corner, Jack stopped to regroup. Hungry, thirsty, and a headache that was probably going to get worse if she didn't find some coffee soon. Plus she needed a place to stay at least one night. She could make longer-term plans tomorrow.
She got on her omnitool. The notification telling her the funds from the Normandy's account had been deposited was still there. She activated it. May as well check what she had to work with.
The amount of money each person got when they split the account was more than she'd ever had access to at once. Hell, even the stipend Shepard had insisted on giving her on the Normandy was a lot by her standards. But the balance on the account looked wrong. It was too much.
She looked at the actual transactions. The payout from the Normandy had been deposited twice. Had Liara made a clerical error? It seemed unlikely, but… no. It wasn't an error. Jack knew. Fucking Shepard.
She snarled in frustration and threw a shockwave at a trash bin on the corner, sending it flying with a satisfying crunch and clang.
There was a higher pitched shout. A violet-skinned kid on a hoverboard dodged the trash bin but lost control and fell hard on the path.
Jack's first impulse was to laugh, but her brain flashed the guilt-inducing memory of Shepard in a heap under the fish tanks. She grimaced and went to check on the kid.
An asari girl was clutching her knee and sobbing.
Jack squatted in front of her. "Hey, kid. Let me look."
The girl pulled her hands back and yeah, it looked like the corrugated floor had taken off a swath of skin. Purple blood seeped down her leg.
"You'll live. Do you know where there's some medigel around here?"
The tears were already ebbing. "Um… my mom's office?"
Jack only thought the curse word. She'd bet money she knew who the mom was. She stood up and offered a hand to help the girl. (The same way she'd helped Shepard up, the night before. Fucking batarians.)
"You lead."
Sure enough, they ended up back at the shelter office. Jack braced herself.
"Zee!" The older asari jumped up in alarm. She raised a hand to her headset. "Hold on, Zee's hurt. I'll call you back."
Her eyes went to the board tucked under the girl's arm. There was a long exchange of looks between mother and daughter, an argument too entrenched to need words.
"Sorry, mama," Zee muttered.
The mother shook her head, then went to a closet and came back with a first aid kit. She finally looked at Jack. "Do you know what to do with this?"
"Yeah." Jack felt a little guilty since the accident had been her fault, but if neither of them wanted to blame her, she wasn't going to bring it up.
She took the first aid kit and squatted in front of the girl again as she opened it.
"You're Zee?"
"It's short for Elzena," she volunteered. She hissed when Jack cleaned the wound, but Jack gathered this was not her first hoverboard injury. The scrape was shallow and didn't look nearly as bad without blood all over it.
"I'm Jack."
"Is that short for something?"
"No. Jacqueline, but I was Jack first."
Zee frowned in thought while Jack applied a medigel patch.
"Why make it longer?"
Jack shrugged. "Thought people would take me more seriously."
She closed up the first aid kit and stood.
Zee's eyes followed her. "You look like a serious person."
Jack laughed in spite of herself. "Thanks."
When she turned around to give the kit back, the woman handed the sack of Shepard's clothes across the desk. She'd tied the handles to keep them from falling out again.
"Zee can show you where to leave these."
Jack took it, reluctantly.
"Ok. Sorry I was a dick earlier." The words felt dry and brittle in her mouth, but it seemed like something Shepard would want her to say. Now that she cared about things.
She turned away, looking for Zee to lead again.
"Jack? I'm Najia. It's nice to meet you."
Jack half-turned, not quite far enough to look at Najia. "Right. Thanks."
Najia insisted that Zee leave the hoverboard ("We'll talk later about when you can have it back.") and wash the blood off her hands before they left.
Zee was chipper once her knee wasn't bothering her. As they went out the door, she said, "You haven't been to the thrift shop before?"
"No, I'm new here."
"To the ward?" She led back the way Jack had originally come up.
"The whole Citadel."
"Oh. Where'd you come from?"
Jack didn't know how to answer that, so she didn't.
After a few seconds, Zee moved on. "Where are the clothes from?"
"They were my girlfriend's." Jack had never called Shepard that before. It wasn't exactly true, either, but it was simpler than trying to explain.
"Where is she?"
"She got arrested."
"Is she a gangster?"
"What? No!"
Zee waved a hand at Jack's chest, even though only the edges of her gang tattoos were showing. "Isn't that Maidens of Kurinth?"
"Shepard wasn't - " Jack stopped herself. She needed to keep her mouth shut about Shepard. Why was she telling this stuff to a random kid, anyway? “Do you always ask this many questions?"
"Usually. Mama says I’m good at it."
"Ok, my turn. How old are you?"
"Twenty-six."
"Jesus f- " Jack cut off the curse. "Asari. Should have guessed you were older than me."
"Why, how old are you?"
"Twenty-four. Ish."
"You don't know?"
"I just know the year."
"Doesn't your mom know?"
"I never met her."
"Is she dead?"
"I don't know. I don't want to talk about that."
"Ok." They went down a flight of stairs and circled around towards the next corner.
Zee sighed. "Walking is so boring."
"How much further is it?"
"Just two levels down."
A few seconds passed in silence before Zee found another question.
"Do you do drugs?"
"Maybe you should mind your damn business."
Zee shrugged. "If you do, my mom can help you stop."
Jack rolled her eyes so hard it hurt. "Is your father a salarian?"
"He was." Zee visibly deflated.
Oh, shit. Jack did the math: 26-year-old kid, and how old did salarians need to be for mating? Old enough for him to be dead by now. Zee must have known him.
"Sorry. How long's it been?"
"Couple of years." She was recovering quickly. "How'd you know?"
"You remind me of somebody. Talks real fast and gets up in people's business."
Zee thought about that. “Daddy talked fast but he said his students should record the class if they couldn’t keep up. I never had any trouble keeping up with him.”
Damn, the kid was probably a lot smarter than her, too. She’d met a few dumb asari, but the age thing definitely gave them a leg up. And if Zee’s father was anything like Mordin, well.
They came to another flight of stairs.
"Hey, have you practiced your biotics much?" Jack asked, pausing at the top. "You don’t have to worry about your knees if you can break the fall."
Zee shrugged. “A little.”
“Watch this.”
Jack launched herself off the top step and caught herself halfway down, landing lightly at the bottom.
“Huh.” Zee flexed her arms and hands in a test push and managed to levitate herself a couple of inches.
“You gotta - “
Before Jack could offer advice on how to move without getting off-balance, Zee flung herself forward and splayed in the air like a cat trying to right itself.
Jack grabbed her with a lift and kept her clear of the floor until panic receded and she got her feet under her.
“Damn it, kid! Are you trying to get me in trouble?”
“Sorry.” Zee smoothed her shirt, avoiding Jack’s gaze.
Jack sighed. “Next time, you wait for me to help.”
That brought Zee’s excitement back. “You’ll help me practice?”
Jack opened her mouth and closed it again, then turned to go on. “Maybe. If I’m around long enough.”