Apparently I hated the ending so much I actually wrote fic

[skull_bearer]

This ended up borrowing a lot from the whole Indoctrination theory thing, which however flawed is still the best way of explaining that disaster.

It felt all wrong, it felt sour and sick and wrong all through.

it's sour yellow note

He collapsed, head ringing like a bell. Some part of him, some animal hindbrain could still hear Hackett's voice echoing -

-dammit Shepard, answer-

He hunched over, spat blood. The not-child was somewhere behind him, speaking, its voice and Hackett's were blending together. For a moment Mirek Shepard was sure he saw, from the corner of his eye, the hunched body of the Illusive Man. The ground no longer pure white and gleaming, but gun-grey and splattered with blood.

"You must choose." The words in a thousand voices jerked him forward, to his feet, two steps.

"No!" Better to fall, to fall and curl up and not move. Mirek clenched his teeth and tried to freeze, muscles spasming to move. His hand brushed the grip of his gun, dropped when he fell that first time. "Not... moving."

"You must."

No- this was. All wrong. These choices -what choices? The destruction of the Mass Relays would put pay to that. He had seen what the destruction of one could do. All of them... Not even the Reapers could do that much damage. Better- better to stop now. Close his eyes, stop his heart and hope- hope. Hope the fleet would be enough. Hope the next cycle didn't fall into every Reaper trap as they had.

He clamped his hands over his ears but the voice didn't stop. it was inside his head, vibrating down his spine, echoing in his ribcage.- You must- must- must-

-Oh god no-

"No." Fought through gritted teeth. In the reddish haze descending over his vision Mirek could see his gun, barely inches away. It was like his dreams- everything was so heavy, so slow. His hand barely moved, it was so heavy. Pressed down, crushed.

-You must-

-Anyone got medi-gel?
-To hell with that! Get him out of here-

He jerked his hand forward, closing fingers around the butt. Not like that. Please. He'd not wanted- please, this wasn't fair- He'd gone his life without caring about anything but duty, and now, now that it had all be ripped open and he had so much to lose-

And he'd lost it. All of them. Mordin on Tuchanka. Legion on Rannoch. Garrus- oh god no Garrus­- in the final mad dash to the Citadel.

Hammer's been wiped out

-See them. They are dying above you. They will die. All die-

-what's wrong with him?-
-he's being indoctrinated, you idiot!-

... what? The other voices seemed to be coming from a long way away. on the other side of the windows, if that was possible with vacuum. The safety catch snapped back on the gun.

-You only delay the inevitable, see as they die-

And please god no that was the Normandy, going down. It had been- there had been- Shepard closed his eyes and beat his head against the hard floor -make it stop please make it stop-

-get that gun away from him!-
-Shepard! Mirek! Wake up-

That sounded-no. Enough. Too much. He'd had it. It all hurt too much and he'd come here only to find they'd been beaten before they began. Worse than beaten. The only options they had were worse than simply dying.

-You WILL get up. YOU WILL MOVE-

He was on his feet again, gun still clutched in his right hand. His body moved without him, two steps.

-Damn you Shepard, since when have you let them beat you? Fight it!-

No. It took everything he had, and a scream of pain as he twisted his body, dragged himself off his feet and landed flat on his back. The breath was knocked out of Mirek's lungs and the world span into a blur. He coughed, blood filling his mouth.  His entire right side was damp-hot. Breath couldn't come.

Above Shepard, the battle roared on, a cruiser shot down in the distance, and the Normandy- the Normandy-

Hadn't he seen this a few moments ago?

-I know you, you will not let them win, fight it!-

It was like the sweetest water after an unbearable thirst, a touch of light in darkness, a benediction.

None of this was really happening.

-damn you-

The cold metal of the gun barrel under his chin, a roar of rage so deep in his soul his very bones shook from it,a and above it, surrounding him like warm, loving hands-

-WAKE UP-

Shepard pulled the trigger.