#i do love miranda but at the moment regis does not lol

[clericofshadows]

your name means traitor

Description: Regis boards the Normandy SR-2, makes his stance on Cerberus clear to the crew--new and old--and learns some information about his resurrection. He also reads through the dossiers and finally gets a little bit of good news in his trapped situation.

Pairing: Regis Shepard/Kaidan Alenko, Regis Shepard/Kaidan Alenko/Zaeed Massani (past)

Rating: M

Notes: Regis is one angry bastard in this fic, and honestly, he's like that through the entirety of ME2. So, he's not the most pleasant person in this fic, and targets many different characters in his anger.

Context: Regis talks about his dogtags a lot in this fic. for extra context, check out these fics: late night conversations and you got me in a chokehold.

Cerberus revived the Butcher, so they were going to get the Butcher, his fangs bared and talons sharpened.  

Because the Butcher doesn't play nice when he feels threatened, and Cerberus is about to find out exactly how ruthless he could be. How relentless he can be in his rage.  How far he will go to never bow down. 

Even if it meant dying in such a way that there's no coming back next time. 

Regis will give them exactly what they deserve.  Losing his humanity in the process is just a price he's willing to pay. 

Because Kaidan isn't here to bring him back from the brink. 

He sneered at Lawson once they made it to the CIC, after she and Taylor got him up to speed at all the new features on the Normandy. "This is my goddamn ship, and no one else's.  Get ready for my announcement.  And we'll see if their loyalties truly lie with me. Because if they don't?  I'll welcome them to the airlock."

"Acting like this isn't going to make the situation better.  You should want all the allies you can get,” Lawson said.

Regis laughed sharply. "Then you don't know me at all. You wanted Commander Shepard?  Well, you're also getting the Butcher of Torfan. Should've thought of that before you wielded your scalpel." He pushed back with a bit of biotic power, causing her to stumble and stepped up on the pedestal to the galaxy map. 

EDI was the only thing on this ship he was willing to work with, if only because he was so fascinated by AI. Cerberus likely knew that and was going to exploit it, but he couldn't deny the allure. 

"EDI, open the comms for an announcement."

"Go ahead, Commander."

He cleared his throat. "I will make this clear only once. I am Commander Shepard, you will all refer to me as such. This is my ship. Not Cerberus's, not Lawson's, mine. If you have a problem with that, you are welcome to leave.  I was brought here against my will, and being here is against everything I stand for as a Spectre and as a soldier to the Alliance. I find all of you to be the scum of the Earth, of the fucking galaxy, for choosing this as your ultimate path. I am here for one job only, and that is to deal with this threat any way possible. And if that means tearing down your organization in the process and turning myself and all of you into the Alliance the moment I get a chance?  I'll do it in a fucking heartbeat." He crossed his arms, observing the looks of all the crew members in the CIC, seeing varied expressions. Some angry, some wide-eyed with fear.  The Yeoman next to him almost seemed to shudder when his gaze landed on her. 

He knew he looked inhuman. The red eyes, the deep scars laced with cybernetics, unexpected side effects of whatever they did to bring him back.

He is the result of what happens when you play God. 

"I fought and killed members of your organization two years ago for your heinous crimes you committed against your own species.  Experiments with Rachni, Thresher Maws, and assassination plans against Alliance brass. Don't think I'll discriminate if I think any of you are a threat to me.  This is my mission, and I will carry it out as I see fit. You've bastardized my memory and my ship, and I'll be damned if I don't ensure you all know how far I'm willing to go to get what I want.  Again, you have a problem?  Get the fuck off my ship. Return to your duties.  I don't want to see anyone slacking off.  With me here, this is a military operation, not some civilian private sector bullshit."  He stepped down from the galaxy map and nearly made it to the elevator, but the Yeoman next to him stopped him. 

"Commander, I--"

He cut her off. "I don't want to hear it. I can handle my own communications and messages. Don't make me upload a hack to ensure you can't get your claws in my shit. Stick to your galaxy map monitoring duties, and we won't have any problems."

"I was just going to say I'm here if you want to talk. I'm Kelly Chambers."

"Talk?" He scoffed. "I'm not talking to anyone who's Cerberus. Why the hell would I ever think you would respect confidentiality?"

Regis didn't wait for a reply. She seemed to shrink in on herself, clearly not anticipating his response. 

In another life, he would've felt guilty. 

No more. 

Cerberus ensured that Regis Shepard would never be the same man ever again. 

Lawson joined him on the elevator before it closed. "You should know that no one is going to leave."

He pressed the button for the third deck. "I didn't expect anything different. I wanted them to know my feelings on the matter. I'm an open book like that."

"Even towards your old crew?"

He raised an eyebrow. "They're now Cerberus crew, aren't they?  Joining for me doesn't change anything." 

The elevator doors opened. They stepped off. 

"After I make my rounds on the ship, we're going to have a long talk about my resurrection, Lawson. If you really want me to be a part of this mission without turning in this ship to the Alliance, then maybe you should be forthcoming with the details," Regis said, crossing his arms. 

He fully planned on going straight to the Citadel to talk to Anderson, but something told him that meeting will probably not end in his favor.  Time will tell, but Regis wasn't going to be optimistic. 

None of his meetings with Anderson has ever really ended "well" in his opinion.

"I think you deserve to know that much," she admitted. 

A far cry from her "cold bitch" attitude back on the station.  Regis almost wanted to loosen up a bit. 

Nothing about her behavior seemed like an act at this point.  She genuinely wanted to work with him. 

It's a shame he doesn't want to give her the same courtesy. 

"Then I hope whatever you tell me is the complete truth." Regis ended the conversation by heading towards the medbay. 

Whatever she told him was likely never going to be the full truth, but he had to know. 

He had to know what they did to him.  

Next, Chakwas...

Two members of his crew decided Cerberus was a good idea, and he couldn't fathom why. 

He didn't deserve that level of die-hard loyalty. If he did, he did something wrong.  After everything they saw, all the reports he made, they still joined the organization that willingly hunted down Alliance soldiers and brass. 

The doors to the medbay slid open.  Chakwas was sitting at her desk. "Shepard." She stood up.  "It's good to see you alive after everything."

Regis chose to not take the hand she offered. "I would say the same, but I'd rather not consider my situation good in any way whatsoever."

She sighed. "Then it's about Cerberus."

"Why did you think joining them was in any way a good idea?  After everything we saw?" Regis asked, crossing his arms. 

"After the Normandy was lost, everyone was reassigned.  I was stationed at a medical center on Mars. A respectable position, but not a starship," she explained. 

Regis narrowed his eyes. "So you threw everything away for a starship position?"

"I'm working for you, Shepard. Not Cerberus. A mission that could be crucial for our survival," she said, not rising to his bait. "I trust your dealings with Cerberus will be ethical. I trust you."

Regis shook his head, sitting down on one of the beds. "And can you verify with one-hundred percent certainty that you're dealing with me, and not some Cerberus puppet?  How do you know that Cerberus won't do something to me or to you or to anyone we care for to get what they want?  They don't give a single damn about humans, they just care about themselves and their image."

She stared down at him. "I’d say your anger is proof enough.  Everything changed after your death. I chose the option that will help all of us. Don't tell me you would rather have some Cerberus doctor taking care of you?"

"Well, the person who resurrected me is across the damn hall.  You tell me."

"I've been looking into what they did to bring you back," she admitted. "But most of it I don't have access to."

"I made a deal with Lawson. She's going to tell me everything. I'll make sure you get access."

"Do you trust that she'll tell you everything?"

Regis laughed. "Hell no. For her sake I hope she does.  If I find out something out in the field that she could've told me?  It's not going to end well for her."

"You've changed since the Normandy."

"Well, I'm a medical abomination trapped in the claws of a terrorist organization. They wanted Commander Shepard?  They're getting the man that ordered the Torfan decision." Regis stood up from the bed. "Let me know if you need anything."

She nodded. "Before you go, there might be a way to remove those scars."

Regis caught his reflection in the window. Angry red lines cracked across his face. Glowing red pupils blending in with his own altered red irises. 

"No. Let them see what they did to me."

"I'll be here if you change your mind, but I know with your experience, we might be able to make something good out of it instead of removing it outright."

Hell, she has a point.  With his cybernetics background, he could probably channel the glow into something else.  Something less cracked and scarred and more of an aesthetic choice. 

Something to decide later. 

Chakwas was always a steady presence.  All the anger he had about her joining up mostly dissipated with her attitude about the matter.  She let him be angry, and she let him treat her like he would treat any other Cerberus operative. 

He still can't feel like he can fully trust her. 

There's no way in hell Cerberus won't exploit his allies. 

He explored the ship some more, learning all its new nooks and crannies, barely acknowledging the Cerberus crew that now wandered the halls of his ship. 

He's not here to make friends.  

His quarters were the worst part of the tour. The glass window above his bed, showing the dark expanse of space, taunted him. 

They knew how he died. 

They knew what became his grave. 

He slammed his hand on the shutters, willing it to close faster. 

His locker was filled with his favorite clothing. Turtlenecks, long coats, dark fatigues, boots and jeans. He tossed the Cerberus branded stuff into a corner, vowing to compact the trash in the lower decks later.

The familiarity caused him to shudder.  They knew everything about him, but some things hit too close to home. 

The photo on his desk nearly made him sick. 

It was of Regis and Kaidan clothed in their armors, but instead of them wearing their usual scarves--Regis’s black and red, Kaidan’s blue and white--they were swapped.  Their foreheads were touching, a calm moment before the drop down to Illos. 

Tali was the one who took the photo, sharing it amongst the ground crew.  None of them would've given up the picture.  Kaidan, Ashley, Tali, Wrex, T'Soni. 

Unless Cerberus recovered his omnitool, which was unlikely. The one in the armor locker back on the station was a piece of shit base model.  And the one sitting on his desk was an updated version of his favored Logic Arrest. 

Which meant they also didn't recover his dog tags, if they were nowhere to be found in his cabin.

That loss almost hit the hardest.  That damn ring. 

I should've just given it to Kaidan.  Fuck fairytale proposals. 

Regis turned the photo away from him.  He rubbed his face, trying to get rid of the nausea. 

Maybe diving into those dossiers would be a good idea right now.  Something to distract him. 

As he reached over to turn on his terminal, he received a ping on his omnitool. 

A comm request from Joker. 

“Got a minute, Commander?” Joker asked, after Regis accepted his comm request.  Sitting at his desk, staring at the empty fish tank—what an ostentatious piece of shit—wondering what decision he made got him here on this fucking ship.

Accepting the Normandy, of course.  He should have never acquiesced to Anderson’s and the Alliance’s demands.  He could’ve been happy at Rio, enjoying his time with the N recruits, finding more ways to advocate for better training regimens for biotics.

He wondered if anything ever came from his suggestions. New N programs, new ways to train biotics recruits, new accelerated ways for biotics to gain ground in the Alliance… without him to speak up, who would?

But knowing what he knows now?  Knowing that Kaidan would have likely been the one to suffer the beacon’s visions if he didn’t push him away?

Regis wasn’t too sure if he liked the thought of that outcome either, especially without being by his side.

“Come on up,” Regis replied, shutting down the link after responding.  

This conversation is not going to be a good one.

A few minutes later, a knock sounded on his door.  With a wave of his omnitool, he allowed Joker to come inside.

“They really tricked out the place, huh.  Swanky crib you got here,” Joker commented, walking over to the couch.

“I think it’s utter bullshit,” Regis said, getting up from the desk to lean against the dumb fish tank.  “Another way to think that I’m in a better place or some kind of manipulative crap.  I hate it.”

“You know, you could really lighten up a bit.  I think you’ve already scared half the crew to death with that announcement of yours.  Especially Chambers.” Joker said with a laugh, but quickly stopped after seeing the dark look on Regis’s face.  “Uh, sorry.”

“It’s because I don’t want to be here, Joker.  Did you really think I was going to accept having a nosy green yeoman getting all up in my business at the CIC?” Regis asked.  “Chambers is just one more way to report on every little move I make to the Illusive Man.  She should be happy I haven’t decided to strand her with nothing when we get to the Citadel.”

“What’s next, you kick me off the ship?” Joker asked, crossing his arms.  When Regis didn’t immediately respond, he held up his arms in surrender.  “Sorry, just trying to lighten the mood.”

“What is this really about?” Regis asked.  “As you can see, I’m really not in the mood, so spit it out.”

“Do you blame me for what happened?” Joker asked in a startling amount of seriousness.

Regis tilted his head to the side.  “Do you blame yourself?  Is that why you joined Cerberus?”

“Just answer my question, Shepard!” He balled his hands into fists.

“Fine.  The only thing I blame you for is joining Cerberus.  I don’t give a single fuck about how you supposedly did it for me, and thinking they were any kind of answer to your current problems was a betrayal to me and all the victims of their experiments that we discovered.  Be happy we’re even having this conversation.  You did what you thought was right back on my ship, but then again, you thought joining Cerbreus was a good idea.  I don’t know if I can even trust your future judgment,” Regis said, staring Joker down.  

Perhaps he was being too harsh, but at this point, Regis didn’t care.  

It doesn’t matter that Joker was with him on the Normandy.  Regis was never close with the man, never meshing well with his attitude and sense of humor. They butted heads more often than not, especially about matters surrounding the ship. 

"If we're ever in a situation where it's you or the ship, choose yourself.  I know you're a talented pilot, but I also know you can recognize when it's gone FUBAR.  Abandon ship the moment you can while also keeping the crew safe." Regis said to him early on their Saren mission.   "My piloting skills will be the only thing that saves our asses if we end up in that kind of situation. I'm the pilot. You trust my judgment." "I grew up learning how to pilot shuttles and ships, Moreau. I grew up hearing similar disaster situations on all the ships my mother served on. This is an order.  You listen to my disaster plans, and we won't have a problem."

Joker opened his mouth to reply, his expression twisting with anger, but Regis beat him to it. "I know you remember that argument we had about what to do if we have to abandon ship.  I've run all the scenarios in my head, and guess what, I remember everything that happened up to the moment I died suffocating in space.  Maybe what you did saved more of the crew. Maybe what you did was the right thing. But we will never know, and you have to live with the fact that you defied my orders when you could've saved yourself."

"You're right, we will never know, but it doesn't matter, does it? We're here now, but you aren't going to thank anyone for the chance you've been given," Joker replied. "You're acting like a fucking child. How is that helpful to any of us?  I'm sure if Alenko was here you'll be getting on your knees for his oh-so-great decision.  And you would be besties with Williams if she was here too!"

Regis kept his face neutral, but if another biotic was in the room with him, they would feel his field about to roar to life.  "Moreau," he said, "get the fuck out of my quarters."

"You aren't denying it!  Regis Lucian Shepard, Butcher of Torfan and a hypocrite."

Regis activated his omnitool to open the doors remotely. He raised his voice, his field roaring to life in a bright violet glow.  Moreau flinched back. 

"I said, get the fuck out of my quarters!  And for your information, Kaidan and Ashley would've never joined Cerberus because they were there for every goddamn mission we did unearthing their crimes.  I'd be treating them the same way I'm treating everyone on this fucking ship if they did sacrifice their morals to be here." Regis shouted. "Sure, I can excuse your bullshit jokes, but you've crossed the fucking line. You see that picture over there.” He pointed at the photo frame on the desk.  “You remember that picture being taken?”

He nodded, swallowing.

“And that’s why I’m so fucking angry.  That’s why I would rather space myself again than be on this ship.  But I can’t do that, now can I?  Because Lawson and Cerberus will just bring me right back again, except this time, with a new way to control me!” 

Regis let his biotics rest, leaving only a faint glow around this body, his eyes rimmed with deep purple. 

Moreau silently stood up and walked over to the door. "I joined Cerberus for you and only you," he said, standing next to the elevator. 

If that was his way of apologizing, he was doing a shit job of it. 

"I wouldn't call that loyalty by any stretch of the imagination.  It shows you didn't know me," Regis replied.  He sat back down at his desk, his back turned to the door.

He was done with this conversation. 

The doors opened and closed with a soft sound, and Regis let out a deep breath. 

Leaning back in his chair, Regis ran his hand down his face. Fuck. 

That's a bridge that will never be rebuilt anytime soon.  He crossed the line when he went there about his relationship with Kaidan. 

Regis wasn't about to apologize anytime soon either. 

His gaze went back to the photo. 

He should contact him, and he should log in to his personal server and send a message. But that photo made him pause. 

Cerberus knows what Kaidan is to him, and if they found out about communications between them?

Regis wasn't willing to put Kaidan in danger, even if it means Kaidan finds out about his resurrection from another source. 

The Alliance knows, likely thanks to footage from Freedom's progress.  The Citadel and Council will know the moment he steps through security, if they don’t already.  

But all they will see is Regis walking out of a ship emblazoned with Cerberus colors, and it made him sick. 

The terminal sitting in front of him pinged with a new message. This time from Lawson. 

Whenever you're ready, come to my office. We'll talk there.

He should start working on those dossiers, but the knowledge of his resurrection was far more important to him than this mission. 

He sent a short reply. "I'm coming down now."

– –

He sat down at Lawson's desk. "Send me the files first." He ordered, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his legs. 

"Surely you want to hear about it first?" She asked, but made a move on her terminal all the same. 

"The files are more important to me. I'm not some dumb Jarhead.  I'll be able to understand the documents just fine," he replied. "Surely you know about my degrees?"

"Yes.  Cybernetics and biotic implants.  Research into VI. And yet you joined the Alliance, doing none of those things," she commented.  His omnitool pinged with the transfer. "There."

Regis was working to use those credentials with his biotic program, curating research and evidence to make training better, both standard and N style. 

Very few cared about the plight of human biotics.  But Regis wanted to make a difference, no matter how small it was. 

His L2 implant ensured he had to care. 

He glanced at them, scanning them with one of his programs, looking for any malicious code.  Nothing obvious came up, but he'll break them down later. 

He nodded, confirming the status of the files. "Now, tell me everything."

She outlined the details of his resurrection, starting with the status of his body.  

"When we received your corpse, we immediately got to work designing cybernetic implants to repair your skeleton, to regenerate and reconstruct your skin, and to begin reconstructing your organ systems. I'm afraid Taylor put it in a crude way, but 'meat and tubes' was an unfortunate descriptor of your situation," she said, lacing her fingers together on her desk. 

Regis wasn't shocked at the news. He kept his expression blank. "And the state of my armor?"

"What do you mean?" She asked, pausing with a confused expression on her face. "Why does that matter?"

"You've reconstructed me damn near perfectly, even down to my damn scars, piercings, and tattoos. Hell, I kept expecting to see some fucked line work on my flowers and chest tats especially.  What I do care about is what personal effects I lost. My omnitool with my last will and rites, among other things, and my Alliance dog tags," Regis explained, barely refraining from rolling his eyes.  

"It was in such a sad state.  We retrieved nothing of yours that was intact," she said. 

Regis raised an eyebrow. "Really?  I know the hard suits aren't perfect, and I died in one spectacular fashion.  But you didn't retrieve anything of the sort?  Who handled my body?  Who got it to you in the first place?"

"You don't care at all about what we did to you.  All you care about is what you lost," she said, narrowing her eyes. 

True.  The documents were enough for him.  Keeps him from wanting to biotically blast her across the room for defying his right to death. 

For defying his right to be buried with his father. 

"You’re right.  I don't really give a fuck about all the sordid details.  That's what those files are for.  No, I care about what has been done to me. And that includes everything that was on my person when I died," Regis spat. "So I’ll ask again, and this time, I'll make it really clear.  Who. Handled. My. Body."

Her face remained blank. "Would it really change anything?  We received a corpse with charred armor that has long since been destroyed.  You are proof enough that we cared to bring you back as you were, even your L2 implants were kept the same."

Regis leaned back in the chair. "Maybe not, but I cared a lot about those things.  Don't you think there's a goddamn reason why I keep pressing you on it?  Clearly you're not an idiot if you were able to do the impossible.  I want names, Lawson."

"You think you were looted before we were able to officially recover you?" She asked. 

"Was I?" He fired back. "I wouldn't be surprised if I was.  I'm Commander Shepard, hero of the goddamn Citadel,  Butcher of Torfan, and the First Human Spectre.  I'm a fucking celebrity.  Or else why would you have revived me?  I'm important."

She pursed her lips.  “The Illusive Man believes in your visions.  He saw you as the key to helping humanity.”

“Ah, so his wants are greater than mine?  Who gives a fuck about one man’s feelings when he can save us all?  Nice phrasing there, really shows who you care about,” Regis mocked.

“I’m merely repeating his reasons for us creating the Lazarus project in the first place.  I was under orders.”

“And here I thought Cerberus wasn’t a military organization.  No, you just wanted to prove you could defy all known laws and resurrect a long dead man,” Regis said.  “Stop trying to convince myself that what you all did to me was out of some duty because you care.”

She opened her mouth to reply, but Regis cut her off.  “Honestly, whatever you’re going to say is going to piss me off more.  Just give me the fucking names of who brought me in.”

“It must be so exhausting being so angry,” she said.  “Eventually, you’ll have to learn to work with us.  Or are you going to run in and recruit everyone for this mission on your own?”

He has half a mind to do exactly that. Surely, she knew about his service history. Solo missions in between his stint as a trainer for the N program and other biotics.

Despite being a biotic, he was one hell of an infiltrator, able to reign in his field to a point where it was very difficult for other biotics to sense him. A high level of control to make sure you almost never intersect with anyone else's field. He made sure that Kaidan knew how to do it as well, the one thing Regis considered himself better at biotically.

Regis chuckled without mirth.  “Exhausting?  No.  You brought back Regis Shepard.  You’re getting exactly who you wanted.  Why, did you think I’ll be getting on my knees, praising Cerberus for bringing me back?  Stop trying to portray yourselves as the misunderstood good guys who are only trying to help humanity.”

“If what you say is true, those were likely splinter groups.  Cerberus operates in separate cells," she said.  “And for your information, I thought this whole project was a waste of precious resources, but the Illusive Man wanted you alive.”

Interesting.  Doesn’t quite change his opinion of her, but he respected her some for even admitting that.

Still, she kept digging her heels in whenever he tried to tell her off Cerberus's deeds during the Saren mission. 

Regis couldn't fathom why.  They clearly knew a lot about him.  They must've gotten their hands on his mission reports. 

Cerberus was an active threat then, and now, Regis was more than a little worried about their obvious scope. 

“And I’m sure you had objections for how he wanted me alive.  Let me guess: You wanted a way to control me,” Regis observed.  

“Yes, I wanted to put a control chip in you, but the Illusive Man wanted you exactly as you were,” she admitted.  

She almost seemed to brace herself for something, the way she moved her hands off her desk and leaned back.

Regis didn’t give her the satisfaction.   Even if he wanted to give her a taste of what he felt while he was dying in space.

He wasn’t looking forward to getting some sleep as his nightmare became true two years ago.

Yet it feels like it happened yesterday all the same.

"Well, at least you admitted it to me," Regis said, watching as she slowly let her guard down.  "But it proves that I was right and still right to not trust you or anyone else on this ship, if you were willing to go that far to use me for your gains."

"And you are proving to me that I was right to have those concerns for our well-being," she fired back. 

Regis smirked. There's that fire he was waiting for. "Sounds like quite the sore spot.  What do you want me to say, really?  Oh, I'm so sorry you lost the right to control another human being.  Boo-fucking-hoo."

She narrowed her eyes. "This conversation is leading nowhere.  You're wasting your own time."

"I don't consider this a waste of my time at all," Regis said, reveling in the fact that he was likely waiting her time. "But, since you haven't rescinded your offer of information, let's go back to that Cerberus cell comment you made.  You're saying you keep your projects isolated?"

She cleared her throat. "If it keeps you here, I'll answer your questions.  Yes, each project is its own cell.  I was part of the Lazarus Cell.  And so, the cell that recovered you is not something I'm privy to.  Even if it was, Cerberus changes the location and status of some of its operatives all the time," she said. "I can't help you."

Regis frowned. "Fine. But perhaps it is a good thing, because I’d have to pause your little mission to hunt them down and take what you didn’t retrieve for me.  I don’t believe my personal effects were so easily lost.”

Before she could reply, Regis held up his omnitool. "I'm going to read over the files. Make yourself available for questions. And if there's anything about my resurrection that you didn't tell me, no matter how fucking small or innocuous it might seem, don't think I won't take it lying down."

She looked him in the eyes.  “You have my word, even if to you that might mean nothing."

Regis stood up. "You're absolutely right, your word means shit to me.”

He walked out of her office without hearing her response. 

The trek back to his quarters was short, but it still gave him time to think about what he learned. 

Perhaps he should have spent more time listening to her account right at that moment.  

But finding out who handled his body will be his ultimate goal on this mission. 

Regis wanted them to burn for desecrating his memory and for keeping him hostage away from his family. 

As he sat back down at his desk, he had a feeling she wasn't telling him everything. Why would she?  And yet, what does she have to gain by keeping whoever handled his body to himself?

Who is she protecting?  Or maybe she sees it as a way of keeping him from getting distracted.  He made it clear what he wanted out of that conversation. 

Something he'll try to press on later. 

It's unlikely he'll actually make good on his threats, but for all intents and purposes, none of the Cerberus crew on this ship really knew who he was, only going off of reports and vids and whatever else they were able to find on him.

They don't know the man behind the titles. and he was going to use that to his advantage.

He opened up the dossiers list, looking through the people Cerberus wanted him to recruit. 

A master thief by the name of Kasumi Goto, who is waiting for him at the Citadel.  Stealth, infiltration, and hacking–all skills of his that he values in others.  

He looked forward to hearing how she ended up in this mess. 

A salarian scientist by the name of Mordin Solus, who was also with the STG. Cerberus is even recruiting aliens?  Must be desperate, knowing their stance. 

A convict by the name of Jack, who is supposedly the most powerful human biotic. A criminal, by the looks of things.  He wondered why Cerberus needed someone like her, someone likely unstable and worked for only herself.  

He'd have to see how his abilities compared to hers.  He and Kaidan were often known by the Alliance as their most powerful biotics. What makes her different?  He wanted to know.

A warlock by the name of Dr. Okeer.  A krogan scientist.  Another alien.  Regis raised an eyebrow, remembering a few conversations he had with Wrex.  A rarity.  

No wonder Cerberus wanted someone like him. 

He doubted that Okeer and Solus would get along. 

Next, someone by the name of Archangel.  Regis rolled his eyes at the name, but the dossier itself was suspiciously blank compared to the others.  No real name and a vague location.  

Finally, the one titled "The Veteran."

Regis opened it and blinked once he saw the name, making sure he read it correctly. 

Zaeed Massani, hired by Cerberus. 

He couldn't help but laugh at the note that said how expensive his services were. 

Yet, Regis knew Zaeed wasn't an idiot.  He kept an ear close to the ground. He had to have known what Cerberus really was. 

So why was he part of these dossiers?

He'll have to be careful.  He trusts Zaeed.  Trusted him with things only Kaidan knows and has seen. 

Maybe Moreau was right.  He really is a fucking hypocrite. 

Because he couldn't wait to get to Omega and get that man on board. As selfish as it was, Regis really wanted him back by his side, even if they were just friends. 

Regis closed his eyes as he thought back to his and Kaidan's leave on Omega.  Three–no, five now–years ago. 

Sandwiched between them after they had taken turns with him, Regis relished in the feeling of being fucked out by two gorgeous men, one who had been by his side for years, the other a temporary lover Regis wanted so much more with.  Kaidan pecked his lips with a sweet little kiss. "How are you feeling, love?" He asked, checking over him with a loving gaze.  "Good. Sore, but that's to be expected," he rasped out. He cleared his throat.  "But I like it that way." "I know you do." "You two have a good thing going on," Zaeed grumbled from behind him, a tattooed arm wrapped around Regis's body. "But I'm also a goddamn gentleman.  It's been a while someone has let me be that rough with them." Regis turned to face the mercenary.  "I'm fine, I promise.  I can handle it." Zaeed pressed a kiss on his forehead. "That you can, Alliance.  Next time, don't hold back on your biotics. Both of you.  Ain't my first rodeo." "So sure about a next time," Kaidan teased. "But we can get a little, uh, wild with our fields. Comes with our implants." "Right, you two must be from the second gen?  No wonder your biotics were so strong out in the field.  Thought I was fighting with Matriarch commandos out there," Zaeed said, starting to trace patterns on the tattoos on Regis's chest.  He shivered at the contact.   "It has its benefits," Regis said.  "I'm sure it does," Zaeed said.  "I got a bathtub big enough for the three of us back there.  Join me." Kaidan grinned. "Of course.  Regis?' "As long as you two pamper me, I'm alright with that."

But without Kaidan with him, Regis wasn't about to make a move. 

Even if he craved the touch of another. 

His fingers itched, reaching out for a pack of cigarettes that were nowhere to be found. 

Regis knows what he's going to pick up when he gets to Omega. 

First, he'll deal with the Citadel.  Talk with Anderson, recruit Goto, and see if the new council would be willing to talk with him. 

And then, Omega. 

Regis wasn't looking forward to whatever was waiting for him at the Citadel, but he hoped to get answers.  

And to find out where Kaidan and Ashley ended up. 

He didn't want them on the ship, but he needed to know they were okay.  That they flourished in the Alliance. 

That they moved on without him by their sides. 

He wasn't holding his breath, however.  The moment he shows up in a Cerberus ship will seal his fate.  He's almost certain he'll be stonewalled. 

But he wouldn't deny the Spectre position if it was offered back to him, despite not wanting it in the first place.

He could hear it now, Regis Shepard, a traitor to the Alliance, to humanity, and to the Council!

Regis never felt so lost, so out of control, until now.

He hoped that he can regain some semblance of control fast.

#mass effect #regis shepard #mshenko #cleric's writing #not tagging all the characters for this fic #and i'll post this on ao3 later #i do love miranda but at the moment regis does not lol #mass effect fanfiction