My take on the ME3 ending. Part 1 is a combination of what I expected to happen with what did happen. It provides more closure, in my mind. Part 2 is a personal response and a sort of prologue. It's written completely differently and I'm quite proud of it.

I am sort of on the fence about the ending, but this was started before I'd even played ME3.

Let me know what you think, and thank you for reading!

The Citadel was quiet, at least it was where Shepard was sitting. The large open areas forced air movement, creating a breeze that swept across her sweaty and bloodied face. She'd always liked the Citadel. Its cool, crisp, and clean exterior; its dark, greasy underbelly. But the noise was gone; only the shifting of distant parts of the station could be heard.

The platform she was on was completely devoid of trees and other accoutrements the various species inhabiting the giant space station had introduced. Likely the traitorous Keepers had removed them to make way for far more sinister purposes. At the moment, however, the Keepers were absent; Shepard remained alone, only Anderson by her side and the corpse of the Illusive Man a few meters away, blood still leaking from where she'd shot him. The light from the sun gave everything a golden sheen. It was almost pretty. It almost hid the blood.

Anderson, the man who had been her mentor, lay where he had collapsed. "Hell of a day, huh, Shepard?" he rasped suddenly, then was overcome with a weak and wet cough.

"You could say that," she replied. It hurt to talk, but the pain was so constant now that she didn't really care anymore.

"Never thought I'd live to see the end of the Reapers. You've done good," continued Anderson. He took a slow and painful breath. "I'm proud of you, kid."

Something stuck in her throat. "Thank you, sir. It's been an honor."

"The honor...was mine. Now...go. Hackett should...be ready...soon." He slumped as his muscles gave in, and his eyes slowly closed. One breath came slowly. Then another. Then the lungs emptied and remained silent. Shepard reached out and gently touched his hand, curling his fingers around his in a gesture of gratitude and respect.

"Shepard, this is Hackett," said a voice from the comm.

"I'm here, Admiral," Shepard replied, gritting her teeth against the pain.

"The Crucible is moving into position. There's nothing more we can do on our end. Where's Anderson?"

"He's...gone, sir."

The line was silent for a moment. "I see. He was a good man. But the rest is up to you. You've got to get that Crucible working. Hackett out."

Shepard remained sitting, dreading the thought of moving. The control panel was only a few meters away, but the pain wracking her body made it seem a hell of a lot farther than that. She glanced down at the arm she clenched to her side. Drenched in her own blood, she knew that she wasn't leaving this station alive.

Time was crucial. Every moment wasted here meant more people dying, meant the Reapers were winning. Everything depended on her and what she did in the next few critical seconds.

Shepard forced herself to move, but was unable to summon the strength to stand. Instead she crawled, her sheer force of will pushing her forwards. Inch by inch, the control panel grew closer. Bloody handprints marked her path. The pain was excruciating, but she refused to give up. Then her fingers touched the control panel column. She paused to take a few breaths, then pushed off the floor to a sitting position. The various wounds across her body all protested and she screamed with the effort. Grabbing on to the column, every ounce of her strength went into pulling herself to her feet. Her head swam, everything was blurred by the waves of pain and dizziness. She must have lost so much blood, and every movement was agony.

Shaking her head, she looked at the control panel. Bringing up the readings for the Crucible, she saw that it had docked with the station very close to where she stood. She glanced over the power readings, and immediately realized what she had to do.

She keyed in the correct sequence to combine their power conduits and then her body gave out. She slumped to the floor, screaming out in pain again. It hurt so much she wanted to cry, but her body was exhausted. She had nothing left.

Leaning against the column, she took three long, labored breaths, trying to get the pain back to a level she could stand. When the dizziness passed, she activated the comm.

"Admiral Hackett, this is Shepard. It's all taken care of. All Reaper technology is going to be destroyed. Unfortunately, that includes the Mass Relays."

"I see," responded the Admiral after a long pause. "We always knew there would be a price to the Reaper's destruction. That's going to leave a lot of people stranded, but at least they'll be alive. What about your situation, Commander?"

Shepard took a deep, agonizing breath. "There's no time. I suggest you get back. I'm not sure what's going to happen."

Hacket didn't speak for a moment and Shepard knew that he understood. "Acknowledged. Thank you for everything you've done, Commander. We owe you our lives. Anderson was right to pick you."

"Good luck, Admiral. Over and out." Shepard closed her eyes. "Wait."

"Commander?"

"Can you patch me into someone on the surface?"

"Of course. Who?"

xXx

The battle on Earth was fierce and never ending. Waves upon waves of husks, marauders, banshees, and all sorts of mutated and distorted life forms threw themselves on the allied forces. Each could do massive amounts of damage and there were so many of them. It was only a matter of time before the Reaper forces overwhelmed them.

Garrus Vakarian switched between his assault rifle and his sniper rifle, the motion so smooth and practiced no time was wasted. Tali'zorah vas Normandy, his long-time quarian friend, was several meters away, popping off pistol shots and the occasional drone. Scattered around the battlefield were asari, salarians, more turians, more quarians, and humans, all fighting this last battle. The existence of their respective races hung in the balance. Each individual fought with everything they had, to keep the Reapers' attention on them. Everything rested on the Crucible. If that failed...this pile of rubble would be their grave.

Garrus's comm beeped, indicating an incoming call. He answered it, expecting news from the turian commander controlling troop movement a kilometer behind him.

"Vakarian," he said loudly, over the explosion of a grenade.

"Garrus."

For a split second his heart skipped a beat, just to hear her voice. Then he felt his stomach tighten. "Shepard. What's wrong? Is the Crucible not going to work?"

"No, it's going to work. Whatever it does, will happen in the next few minutes. I need you to hang on until then."

"It'll be tough, but I can make it. What about you?"

The line was silent.

"Shepard?"

"I'm not going to make it."

His breath froze in his chest. "Shepard, you can't..."

"It's okay, Garrus. I got pretty beat up getting here, anyways. It's...it's not a bad way to go. I can see Earth from here. Can't even see the fires."

The sounds of the battle faded. All he heard was the sound of his heart thumping in his chest. His fingers felt numb. A million thoughts ran through his head, but there was nothing he could do. Everything screamed that she should leave, that she should give up and come back to Earth. But he knew that she couldn't do that, and he couldn't ask her to.

"I, um, only have a few minutes," continued Shepard. He heard the pain in her voice. "I wanted to tell you. You've been my friend through the worst. When everyone doubted me, you were there by my side. I've always respected you. I'm sorry I wasn't able to keep my promise."

"Shepard...please..."

"I know we didn't have much time together and I'm sorry I have to be the one to leave first." She took a raspy breath that made his chest ache. "Whatever this Crucible does, it's going to take out the Mass Relays. You won't be able to return home. But at least you'll be alive."

"Shepard..." his voice trailed off. The gun felt heavy in his hand. He turned his head, caught Tali's gaze. He could only wordlessly shake his head. Tali's gun lowered. She knew.

"Garrus..." Her voice was growing weak. "I'm not one for requests, but I need you to do something for me. Tell the story of how all the races took a stand for self-determination and freedom. Everyone is a hero today. Don't let anyone forget."

"Shepard..." he tried again, the word coming out stronger. "I'll make sure you are remembered. Thank you for everything." A thought crossed his mind and he gave a small humorless laugh. "Maybe I'll name my kid after you."

A pained chuckle echoed through his earpiece. "Ow, don't make me laugh, damn it." She coughed. "I love you, Garrus."

"I love you, too, Shepard."

"I'll be waiting in that bar. By the window. And I'll be buying."

The line cut out.

xXx

Hackett watched the Crucible, attached to the wide, open arms of the Citadel like a stem to a flower. Even from the distance the Alliance Fleet sat, the change in the Crucible was clear. It began at the connector that linked it to the Citadel; a ripple of white light, like electricity. It grew and as it passed along the body of the Crucible, becoming a sphere of energy. As the center of the sphere settled on the body of the prothean device, it ceased to move and instead grew in diameter. The wave rippled through the atmosphere, passing through ship and Reaper. Hackett knew very little about the Crucible; as far as what it did, he'd left that to the scientists. Whatever it was made of, though, was geared towards destroying Reapers specifically. The hundreds that sat in Earth's atmosphere began to explode like ants under a magnifying glass. Soon the atmosphere was yellow and red with their burning bodies. He was briefly concerned for the state of the people beneath the falling behemoths, but he shook his head and remembered that the Reapers were dying and that had been their goal all along.

The wave approached the Alliance ships. Hackett watched it closely then activated the comm.

"Hackett to all allied ships. Wave incoming. Brace for impact-we have no idea what this thing'll do when it hits us."

The crew on his ship all grabbed hold of something. Hackett gripped the arms of his chair tightly.

The wave came closer.

He held his breath.