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Art by bioticbooty

Shepard considered cloaking and going back to her cabin in case Chakwas was watching. A shower and the space to be alone sounded much better then locking herself in the crew's restroom. But the thought of herself passing out again in the elevator or even the shower made her reconsider. She wanted to keep her dignity and at least her clothes on.
Shepard crossed the threshold of the women's restroom; it was almost as small as her own bathroom, which didn't seem right or fair. Fortunately, none of the crew was occupying the cramped space. Shepard rolled over to the mirror and pressed her hands on the sink with her IV stand behind her.
"EDI?" Shepard grunted out as she leaned over the sink.
"Yes, Shepard?" The disembodied voice echoed in the empty restroom.
"Lock the women's restroom." Shepard barked at the voice.
"With you inside? What will the female crew do if they need the restroom?"
"Yes, they can wait or use the men's." Shepard threw her arm up, gesturing at the voice. She almost lost her balance for that useless gesture. "Just do it okay EDI?" She was annoyed with questioning and just needed to be alone.
"Very well Shepard, logging you out."
Shepard heard the locks engage and sighed.
When she was still with the Reds as long as she was high she was exactly where she wanted to be. Being locked up in the Normandy's crew restroom was not that. She wanted to be back on the field, tearing apart every mercenary that came her way.
She fought every urge or thought of getting back on Ilium and finding some Minagen X3 or Red Sand or whatever. She probably wouldn't make it past the CIC. She liked to believe it was her willpower keeping her on the crew deck and not the fatigue.
She tightly gripped the restroom's sink as her arms began to shake almost uncontrollably. The feeling of withdrawal was not something she missed when she was still on Red Sand. Hopefully, if Minagen was anything like Red Sand the withdrawals would be gone soon.
She thought back to one of her first shore leaves when she was still just a private and had no clue what she was doing with her life. One of her idiot squad mates had gotten their hands on some Red Sand. She left the bar in a hurry without saying a word to the others. She became a lot more acquainted with her new rifle through cleaning, assembling and reassembling as a distraction for herself that night. She stayed away from most shore leaves after that.
Except on Elysium. The battle that had made Shepard a household name amongst the Alliance and had gotten her the offer with the Interplanetary Combative Training program.
Shepard sighed and loosened her grip on the sink as the shaking subsided. She didn't need the Red Sand then when she was a dumbass twenty-two-year-old and she didn't need it now.
But the Minagen X3 was different. It gave her strength and euphoria that she never felt before on the field. She did not just want to be there, she needed it. She needed to feel like she was in control again and not some Cerberus puppet.
The IV began to itch in her arm; it felt like it was leaving a festering hole, like when she used to shoot Red Sand. What she really wanted to do was to rip the damn IV out, but that would probably only bring more attention to her. She really did have strings on her.
She rarely dusted; it was better to get a more powerful high through being a shooter. She wondered if that was the same for Minagen, maybe she could get the high to last longer or maybe she could get back on to Illium, Red sand was legal there after all, or maybe…
Her hands clamped back onto the sink, almost like there were trying to restrain the thoughts. She didn't consider herself an addict. Since getting clean, she worked her ass off against that damn phrase. Once an addict, always an addict. For so long she didn't want to give it any merit, but now she didn't really know anymore. Maybe she should talk to Chakwas, to have a professional to talk to like before.
No, Shepard shook her head at the thought. She didn't need to know. Shepard could get through this by herself. But there were doubts. There were always doubts.
"Fuck," Shepard sighed as she loosened her grip again and gently lowered herself from the sink to the restroom's ground. She tucked herself into the crouched little ball that she formed as a child. After her stepfather was kicked out of the Alliance, he became more and more angry and took it out on her.
She had to get good at hiding. She used to be able to keep herself up in the crouched position for hours and even comfortably fall asleep in the apartment's vast vent systems. That was until she got too big and didn't have anywhere else to hide from the anger and abuse.
Even with the family and the cramped apartment that was supposed to be home, Shepard considered herself an orphan. She never truly ran away like she had planned, she just stop going back. Which meant living on the beach near their apartment and getting hideous sunburns and scrounging for food. It meant meeting the Reds there and finding a new home with them.
With the Reds, she really honed her talents of sneaking, sabotaging, and smuggling shipments of Red Sand. She was barely a teenager when she had taken her first hit. Shepard had seen her mother do it before, but she had no interest in it until she was told it could help her with her biotics. But it never did, she was able to lift small things. The power was just an excuse to keep using. It let her feel like she was in control and escape from her home life.
Soon there was no family or home to return to, Charlotte was taken away and Alex was far too busy with medical school and his own new family. Her mother, well she was never really there, she was too high to notice anything past her own self-indulgences.
She continued to search for that idea of a family or home with the Reds, found that with the Alliance, and lost it when the Normandy when down over Alchera.
She couldn't keep hiding or trying to escape. Chakwas wanted her back soon, but she needed this time to decompress. To be away from the crew and away from the doctor.
A groan escaped her lips as her legs protested from the constant strain. Her whole body ached more than after her first week in basics. The crouched position was becoming a bit much for her to handle, she could hardly keep her legs bent.
Maybe she was just getting old, she wasn't as flexible as she was as a teenager. Shepard smirked at the thought, she may be getting older, but she still acted like her idiotic self from childhood. She was craving another hit, saying stupid things like reach and flexibility and getting fluttery at the thought of a relationship with Garrus. Or was it just a one-time thing? Well, they both could be dead after they hit the collector base, so maybe it didn't really matter to try to define it. They hadn't really talked about the specifics of it either. Goddamn, she was a teenager. She felt like a fucking mess.
Shepard sighed, her time was up, and Chakwas would soon be barreling down the bathroom doors even with the locks if she didn't get back to the med-bay. She just wanted to be left alone, to sort out and process everything about how she was going to move forward from this. She couldn't hold command of the ship if she were going to have trouble with this. She knew she needed to listen to Chakwas and get her rest. She couldn't be compromised and be the weakest link for her mission. She needed to go forward and forget about the Minagen, the battle, and that familiar and distant feeling of control from the drug.
There were a lot of things she wanted, needed, or couldn't be. It felt like that was all taken away by that goddamn stupid positioning on her part. Her hand lightly hit her forehead in frustration of it all.
Shepard pushed up from her crouched position, telling herself that she was ready to move forward and to not slip back into her old ways. She unlocked the restroom to find a few ticked off Cerberus crew waiting for her to get out. They straightened up however when they realized it was her holding up the restroom. Shepard didn't care, she lightly limped passed them with the IV stand in hand back to the med-bay. Back to where she could hopefully sleep the pain and cravings off.

Description
body div#devskin0 hr { }

Art by bioticbooty

Shepard considered cloaking and going back to her cabin in case Chakwas was watching. A shower and the space to be alone sounded much better then locking herself in the crew's restroom. But the thought of herself passing out again in the elevator or even the shower made her reconsider. She wanted to keep her dignity and at least her clothes on.
Shepard crossed the threshold of the women's restroom; it was almost as small as her own bathroom, which didn't seem right or fair. Fortunately, none of the crew was occupying the cramped space. Shepard rolled over to the mirror and pressed her hands on the sink with her IV stand behind her.
"EDI?" Shepard grunted out as she leaned over the sink.
"Yes, Shepard?" The disembodied voice echoed in the empty restroom.
"Lock the women's restroom." Shepard barked at the voice.
"With you inside? What will the female crew do if they need the restroom?"
"Yes, they can wait or use the men's." Shepard threw her arm up, gesturing at the voice. She almost lost her balance for that useless gesture. "Just do it okay EDI?" She was annoyed with questioning and just needed to be alone.
"Very well Shepard, logging you out."
Shepard heard the locks engage and sighed.
When she was still with the Reds as long as she was high she was exactly where she wanted to be. Being locked up in the Normandy's crew restroom was not that. She wanted to be back on the field, tearing apart every mercenary that came her way.
She fought every urge or thought of getting back on Ilium and finding some Minagen X3 or Red Sand or whatever. She probably wouldn't make it past the CIC. She liked to believe it was her willpower keeping her on the crew deck and not the fatigue.
She tightly gripped the restroom's sink as her arms began to shake almost uncontrollably. The feeling of withdrawal was not something she missed when she was still on Red Sand. Hopefully, if Minagen was anything like Red Sand the withdrawals would be gone soon.
She thought back to one of her first shore leaves when she was still just a private and had no clue what she was doing with her life. One of her idiot squad mates had gotten their hands on some Red Sand. She left the bar in a hurry without saying a word to the others. She became a lot more acquainted with her new rifle through cleaning, assembling and reassembling as a distraction for herself that night. She stayed away from most shore leaves after that.
Except on Elysium. The battle that had made Shepard a household name amongst the Alliance and had gotten her the offer with the Interplanetary Combative Training program.
Shepard sighed and loosened her grip on the sink as the shaking subsided. She didn't need the Red Sand then when she was a dumbass twenty-two-year-old and she didn't need it now.
But the Minagen X3 was different. It gave her strength and euphoria that she never felt before on the field. She did not just want to be there, she needed it. She needed to feel like she was in control again and not some Cerberus puppet.
The IV began to itch in her arm; it felt like it was leaving a festering hole, like when she used to shoot Red Sand. What she really wanted to do was to rip the damn IV out, but that would probably only bring more attention to her. She really did have strings on her.
She rarely dusted; it was better to get a more powerful high through being a shooter. She wondered if that was the same for Minagen, maybe she could get the high to last longer or maybe she could get back on to Illium, Red sand was legal there after all, or maybe…
Her hands clamped back onto the sink, almost like there were trying to restrain the thoughts. She didn't consider herself an addict. Since getting clean, she worked her ass off against that damn phrase. Once an addict, always an addict. For so long she didn't want to give it any merit, but now she didn't really know anymore. Maybe she should talk to Chakwas, to have a professional to talk to like before.
No, Shepard shook her head at the thought. She didn't need to know. Shepard could get through this by herself. But there were doubts. There were always doubts.
"Fuck," Shepard sighed as she loosened her grip again and gently lowered herself from the sink to the restroom's ground. She tucked herself into the crouched little ball that she formed as a child. After her stepfather was kicked out of the Alliance, he became more and more angry and took it out on her.
She had to get good at hiding. She used to be able to keep herself up in the crouched position for hours and even comfortably fall asleep in the apartment's vast vent systems. That was until she got too big and didn't have anywhere else to hide from the anger and abuse.
Even with the family and the cramped apartment that was supposed to be home, Shepard considered herself an orphan. She never truly ran away like she had planned, she just stop going back. Which meant living on the beach near their apartment and getting hideous sunburns and scrounging for food. It meant meeting the Reds there and finding a new home with them.
With the Reds, she really honed her talents of sneaking, sabotaging, and smuggling shipments of Red Sand. She was barely a teenager when she had taken her first hit. Shepard had seen her mother do it before, but she had no interest in it until she was told it could help her with her biotics. But it never did, she was able to lift small things. The power was just an excuse to keep using. It let her feel like she was in control and escape from her home life.
Soon there was no family or home to return to, Charlotte was taken away and Alex was far too busy with medical school and his own new family. Her mother, well she was never really there, she was too high to notice anything past her own self-indulgences.
She continued to search for that idea of a family or home with the Reds, found that with the Alliance, and lost it when the Normandy when down over Alchera.
She couldn't keep hiding or trying to escape. Chakwas wanted her back soon, but she needed this time to decompress. To be away from the crew and away from the doctor.
A groan escaped her lips as her legs protested from the constant strain. Her whole body ached more than after her first week in basics. The crouched position was becoming a bit much for her to handle, she could hardly keep her legs bent.
Maybe she was just getting old, she wasn't as flexible as she was as a teenager. Shepard smirked at the thought, she may be getting older, but she still acted like her idiotic self from childhood. She was craving another hit, saying stupid things like reach and flexibility and getting fluttery at the thought of a relationship with Garrus. Or was it just a one-time thing? Well, they both could be dead after they hit the collector base, so maybe it didn't really matter to try to define it. They hadn't really talked about the specifics of it either. Goddamn, she was a teenager. She felt like a fucking mess.
Shepard sighed, her time was up, and Chakwas would soon be barreling down the bathroom doors even with the locks if she didn't get back to the med-bay. She just wanted to be left alone, to sort out and process everything about how she was going to move forward from this. She couldn't hold command of the ship if she were going to have trouble with this. She knew she needed to listen to Chakwas and get her rest. She couldn't be compromised and be the weakest link for her mission. She needed to go forward and forget about the Minagen, the battle, and that familiar and distant feeling of control from the drug.
There were a lot of things she wanted, needed, or couldn't be. It felt like that was all taken away by that goddamn stupid positioning on her part. Her hand lightly hit her forehead in frustration of it all.
Shepard pushed up from her crouched position, telling herself that she was ready to move forward and to not slip back into her old ways. She unlocked the restroom to find a few ticked off Cerberus crew waiting for her to get out. They straightened up however when they realized it was her holding up the restroom. Shepard didn't care, she lightly limped passed them with the IV stand in hand back to the med-bay. Back to where she could hopefully sleep the pain and cravings off.