codenamearchangel:

[TO] cshepard@alliance.mail

[FROM] gvakarian@normandysr2.mail

[SUBJECT] It’s not another chain email, I swear.

Even though you tried to make sure that no one remembered what today was, this message is to inform you that you failed. Sort of. I knew it was your birthday, and not just because I care, but because I have access to all of the change logs for the Normandy, including alterations to the galactic calendar. Removing your birthday from it would have worked, if not for that.

EDI didn’t end up baking that cake she said she’d make you, by the way. Blame Joker for that. He insisted that the oven temperature was too low, and in turn burned the whole damn thing. Can’t believe you didn’t hear the alarms…

Everyone else appeared to be mostly unaware of the significance of this day besides those two and me, though I’m sure their interest in it is purely based on the friendship they’ve developed with you. My interest is… different.

You know I rarely acknowledge the day I was born, but there is one day that I celebrate privately that I’ve never told you about. Call it my “second birthday,” I guess. That’s the anniversary of the day that you stumbled upon me on Omega and saved me. Fate seems like a weird word to use, so I won’t, but I don’t know what else to call it. You found me, dragged my ass out of that place, and let me join up with you to fight the good fight once again. 

Every year you’re still alive is another year that I can thank you for keeping me alive. Saying the words seems insignificant, so I don’t, but I will today.

Thanks, Shepard. Thanks for being alive another year. Thanks for being you. And don’t you dare die any time soon, alright? Not without a giant explosion and bullets to see you off, at least.

P.S. Check your closet. There just might be a package from a certain turian, who might have broken into your room last night, and possibly hid a present there.

P.P.S.

Reset your door code.