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biotic-boshtet · 3 years

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Aftermath - Chapter 5

Read on AO3 Start at the beginning!

Thunder

(major character death) (but its cool, she gets better)

Alchera and the aftermath.

“Will the Alliance get here in time?”

“I’m not doing this just so they can find our frozen corpses! Get everyone into the escape pods!” Another impact comes with the rumble of buckling plating, like a cheap facsimile of thunder. She launches the distress beacon.

“Joker’s still in the cockpit, he won’t abandon ship. I’m not leaving either.”

She turns to stare at him for half a second, alarms wailing all around them. “That’s an_ order_ Kaidan! I’m going up to haul Jeff out of there myself!”

“Norah Jean,” She pauses, taking a step towards him and thunking their helmets together. The only affection she can spare at the moment. Right now, she has to be Commander Shepard, no room for anything else.

“I’ll be fine. Get the hell out of here! Go!” She doesn’t so much as glance backwards as she slams her fist down on the beacon launch on her way to the stairs.

The air is full of sparks and smoke until she reaches the top of the steps. She double checks her helmet seals just before the doors fail, depressurizing the rest of the deck and opening to the CIC. Or what was the CIC. Now it’s just a hole, completely open to space. Equipment drifts in the vacuum. She triple checks her seals on reflex, even though she’d have known immediately if something wasn’t right. The ship shudders beneath her as she makes her way to the cockpit as fast as her magboots allow, shoving debris aside. A few more strides and she’s on the other side of the emergency barrier keeping atmosphere in the cockpit.

“Jeff. We need to leave! Now!”

“No! I won’t abandon the Normandy, Norah Jean, I can still save her!”

“Jeff Alexander Moreau! Don’t make me tell Hilary you couldn’t come home for her birthday because you wanted to try to save a doomed ship!” That makes the pilot hesitate.

“Fine, okay, help me up. Shit.” He glances at the readings still coming in from their mutilated sensors. “They’re coming around for another pass!”

His hands fly back to the interface. Shepard turns to see a beam scorching through what’s left of the ship, heading right for them. She steps back to Jeff, grabbing him and hauling him out of the chair.

“Dammit, I said now, Jeff!”

“Agh, watch the arm!”

“As long as we make it off this damn ship alive, I don’t give a fuck about your arm!”

Five steps to the pod. She all but tosses him inside, one foot on the threshold of the pod when the ship heaves again, deck plates buckling beneath her. She turns to look. Her foot slips. Another beam rips through the ship and her other boot loses contact with the metal underneath her. Drifting. Everything slows down. Norah Jean catches herself on the outer control panel for the pod. No deck left to stick her boots to. Maneuvering jets are inoperable. Another beam lances through the cockpit now. No way to the pod through it. Jeff would never launch it without her inside, and there’s not a chance in hell for her to make it. She makes a choice.

“Norah Jean!” He knows. There’s no way he doesn’t. Not with the way his voice breaks.

“I’m sorry, Jeff.” She slams the button, starting the launch sequence just as her comm dies. Red turns to green. An explosion knocks her away from her handhold. A second blast slams her into the bulkhead. She’s too dazed to try to find purchase anywhere.

And then she’s spinning.

Spinning.

Kaidan skipped the memorial. From what he’s heard, most of the rest of the squad did too. Joker had disappeared the moment they docked on the Citadel. Not even 24 hours after docking, he’d received an invitation to the funeral. On paper. He’d needed to turn on the light to read it. Family only, no media allowed. A week away. Anchorage. He’d been once, on shore leave. Not sure how many of the others got an invite.

It’s raining in Anchorage. Cats and dogs and everything else. He’s not sure if the chill in his bones is from his mood or the weather. He shows his invitation to a pair of sentries at the cemetery gate. Lightning cracks overhead and Kaidan counts out of habit. Eleven seconds. Thunder rolls. He shivers, but this time it isn’t the cold. There are more than a few sets of dress blues huddled under black umbrellas as he slowly approaches. Of course, it thunders for her funeral. She’d have loved it. Their air feels electric. He can’t stand it.

Hannah Shepard spots him before anybody else, breaking off from the group and meeting him halfway. She drops her umbrella and pulls him into a tight hug before he can say anything. It takes him a second, but he returns the hug before she pulls away. She takes a shaky breath, exhaling in a huff. “Thank you for coming, Kaidan. I know this has to be difficult.”

He takes a deep breath. The rain continues to pelt his umbrella. “No more difficult than it is for you, I’m sure.”

“Yeah.”

Hannah retrieves her umbrella, shaking it out, then links an arm in his and together they walk to the cluster of uniforms. Kaidan spots admiral’s bars and doesn’t even have time to wonder who it is before Steven Hackett turns his head, red rimmed eyes following the pair as they pass. His hand is resting on the shoulder of a woman who looks like Hannah, her arms wrapped tightly around a sobbing teenage boy. Anderson glances up as he passes, then continues his quiet conversation with a young corporal. Kaidan stares straight ahead as they keep walking.

Three people stand in the rain. Only one person he really knew. One he’d met in passing. The last one he only heard about. Hannah steps away and without her arm in his, suddenly Kaidan can’t move. Can barely breathe. The electricity hanging in the air is stifling. He stands there staring at the flag draped casket. Remembers the thunderstorm they watched from the porch. Lightning flashes through the clouds. Seven seconds. Thunder.

Joker stands at the casket, good hand braced on it, staring at the Alliance emblem in the middle. Rain drips off his face, dress blues soaked through completely. Kaidan’s never seen him without a hat before.

He glances up to look for Hannah. She’s off to the side, at the next headstone over, now-open umbrella held over the two soaked men. He’s not sure how long he stands there, lost in the sound of the rain, at least one more thunderclap, but now a man stands in front of him. Not much taller than Norah Jean is. Was. Maybe 5’4”, curly brown hair peppered with gray with a mustache to match, N7 on his shoulder, bars on his uniform labeling him a Major. Nameplate reads Conti. Right. Her father. Kaidan takes the outstretched hand, meeting his eyes. Her eyes. He looks exhausted.

“Sir.”

“Staff Lieutenant.” The Major has a firm grip, and he pins Kaidan to the spot with a gaze that goes straight through to his soul. Now he knows where she got it from. Seemingly satisfied with what he sees, he releases Kaidan’s hand.

“Rossano Conti. Not how I expected to meet Norah Jean’s sweetheart.” Rossano doesn’t raise his voice to be heard more easily over the rain.

The rest of the funeral passes in a blur.

They lower the empty casket into the dirt.

He’s vaguely aware of someone delivering a eulogy.

Anderson speaks.

Joker avoids him completely.

They all migrate back to her parent’s house just outside the city.

Somehow, he’s ended up sitting at the top of the steps. He can’t remember leaving the cemetery. Can’t remember climbing up the stairs. Everyone else quietly mills around downstairs. A cup of coffee that isn’t strong enough is clutched tightly in his hands. It’s black. Six spoonfuls of sugar. Her coffee. He’d spent a week in this house with her not even a month ago. They were supposed to have time. He stares at a framed photo of her sporting a massive trophy on the wall. The floor creaks behind him, then the top step, as Jamie Shepard sits down beside him.

“That one’s from the end of wrestling season, her senior year of high school, I think.”

“Hmm.” If he’s remembering right, Jamie had been in N5 training right around the time everything went to hell on Eden Prime. “You get your N6 invite yet?”

“Don’t even know if I want it anymore.”

“She was so proud when you made N6. All she talked about for a week. She’d want you to keep at it, I think.”

“Maybe. I might think about it.”

He’s not sure how long they sit in silence before Jamie gets up and makes his way down the steps.

Kaidan’s coffee is cold. All he can think of is the week they spent here, figuring out what they were. His omnitool pings with a flood watch for the area. Thunder rattles the house. He stands up.

Nobody stops him as he shuffles back through the house, still clutching his cold coffee, making a beeline for the back door. Lightning flashes as he gets the door open. Three seconds. The thunder is deafening, but he barely hears it as he sits on the old bench. This time the storm is fierce enough to whip rain well under the roof of the porch. He isn’t sure how long he sits there. Long enough to get soaked through. Coffee’s even waterier than before, sitting uselessly by his feet.

His head hurts.

#mass effect fic #shenko #fshenko #kaidan alenko #jeff joker moreau #hannah shepard #norah jean shepard #alchera #aftermath #hehehe this has been my favorite chapter so far bc it basically wrote itself it was so easy for me #i love some good ole pain and grief #mandi writes

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theoriginalladya · 3 years

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THAT SCENE for Destiny's Fate (any of the stories therein)?

Okay, as much as I would like to answer this for Destiny’s Fate, I have not gotten to that part of the story yet, so I cannot share. I’m so sorry!

HOWEVER, I’ll give you the two from the two prior stories instead. How’s that?

From Destiny’s Road, (their ME1 story) it’s the scene right after Jane & Co. come out from talking to Vigil on Ilos. She, Kaidan, Ashley, and Garrus get separated from everyone else, so they’re the only ones who can head down to the conduit. Jane steps aside just before getting back into the Mako and contacts John who is back on the Normandy.

The elevator ride back up from speaking with Vigil was an unusually quiet one. Only once they exited the shaft and were heading back to the Mako did the silence finally break.

Pausing outside the vehicle, Jane pressed her comm. “John, are you there?”

“Right here, Jane,” he returned immediately. “What do you need from us?”

Having him aboard ship already was probably the best thing to happen so far on a mission as messed up as this one had become. Though she wanted to take the time to explain the conversation she’d just had and the mandate the prothean VI clearly wanted her to fulfill, she knew there was no time. “Short version: The Citadel is a backdoor for the Reapers. You’ve got to take the Normandy and get back there -- Saren’s already on his way!”

“Wait -- Jane, how --?”

Joker’s voice broke across the line. “Commander, its Sovereign -- look at it! That’s like that move I told you about on Virmire!” Habit had Jane glancing upwards even though she couldn’t see anything but the walls of the building.

There was a moment of silence from the other end before John returned. “Jane, what’s going on?”

Taking a deep breath, she instructed, “Follow Sovereign, John! It’s heading to the Citadel! The Citadel is a doorway for other Reapers to enter the galaxy from dark space where they’re waiting!”

There was a scratch of static before John’s voice asked, “How are WE going to stop it?”

Jane bit her lower lip. The others were inside the Mako now and she needed to join them. “Contact Hackett -- Anderson -- Alliance Command -- Udina -- the Citadel Fleet! Get a hold of whoever you can – anyone -- just get them! This thing is bigger than us. We’re going to need all the help we can get!”

She started climbing into the Mako and was taking her seat when he replied, “But what about you? We can’t just leave you here --!”

She glanced over at Alenko who was in his usual navigation seat and nodded that all was good to go. Shifting the Mako into gear, she said, “There’s an access point here. We’re taking that. We’ll meet you there, front and center on the Presidium, got that? Don’t be late or you’re buying the drinks afterwards.” She tried to interject a little bit of humor into her tone, but she wasn’t sure it communicated in the moment.

“Jane …”

Biting her lower lip, her voice dropped nearly an octave as she pleaded with him. “John, GO! Please, don’t make me pull rank on you -- you know I wouldn’t tell you this if I didn’t believe it.”

Another long pause, and she could almost see his face in front of her as he debated. She was about to call out to him again, to yell at him with all it took, to pull rank and then some, when he finally spoke. “Fair winds, baby.”

Startled at the reference dating back to the early years of their marriage, Jane nearly choked on a sob. “And following seas, love,” she whispered back. Thankfully, none of the rest of her squad made comment and the drive continued in silence.

From Destiny’s Hand, (ME2 story), you might think it’s when Jane and John encounter one another on Horizon. Actually, it isn’t. It’s the scene on Arcturus after Jane’s death, where Kaidan and Ashley go with him back to the Shepard apartment there to help John clean out all of his and Jane’s belongings. It’s a bit rough on John, as you might imagine, but both Kaidan and Ashley are there in their own ways to offer support. Plus, I needed Kaidan to find the thing hidden away inside Jane’s Star of Terra for use later on.

“Skipper …?”

John either didn’t hear Williams or he chose to ignore her for the time being. Alenko’s gaze drifted to look around the room, searching for some way, any way he could help his friend through what was no doubt the most devastating time of his life. His eyes came to rest on a small frame resting on a small shelf on the wall above the vid screen. It looked to be one of those old fashioned shadow box frames. He caught a hint of color inside, a flashing glint of polished metal, and clarity followed a moment later. Jane Shepard’s Star of Terra. That might be a start.

Crossing the room, Alenko reached for the frame. But before his fingers connected, a bellowing roar from behind him rumbled throughout the room.

“Skipper, wait!”

It was the only warning Alenko received, but it was enough. Instinct triggered his biotic barrier in the same motion that he slid sideways a couple steps just as John’s hands reached out towards Alenko. There was a wildness in the man’s action fueled by grief and anger as he snatched the frame from the lieutenant’s grasp. Though startled, Alenko understood what was happening and why well enough that he didn’t try to stop the commander or defend himself.

Williams hurried over. She paused beside Alenko, her hand touching his shoulder and tightening briefly in question. He nodded, waving her off in assurance that he was okay. Turning, she then took a tentative step towards Shepard.

John’s eyes locked onto the medal inside of the case, memories washing over and through him. The day he and Jane met so many years before when he barrelled into her aboard the SSV Einstein. Her brilliant smile when they graduated basic training together. Abject terror mixed with intense pain and pride on Elysium while on their honeymoon as he watched her run off to finish the job they’d started together defending the colony against batarian slavers. Jane’s embarrassment (she always hated being the center of attention) and irritation at the pomp and ceremony because of those actions and the resultant awarding of the Star of Terra. The pure unadulterated joy in her eyes the day she achieved her rank of N7, proudly displaying her new colors to him afterward. There were other moments bombarding him as well, but it was this last that stuck with him longest. With another roar of grief, this one fueled by weeks of denial, he launched the frame across the room.

Williams lurched forward, catching Shepard beneath his shoulders with her shoulder and murmuring quiet words of comfort as he fell to his knees. It was early days still, much too early for her words to serve as more than a reminder he wasn’t alone in his pain and loss. He crumpled, crouching over and curling in on himself in the process. After his outburst, he stayed silent, though the violent shaking of his shoulders indicated the level of his distress.

Alenko, feeling rather extraneous at this point, quietly crossed the room to examine the damage. Though not a biotic, Shepard was strong and the frame had shattered upon impact with the wall. It now lay on the carpet in a tangled mass of metal, glass and fabric. The frame itself was bent out of shape and beyond repair. The glass that had covered the front was broken into several larger pieces and multiple smaller ones. In the middle of the mess was tangled a disheveled blue silk ribbon which, when traced around, looped through the actual Star of Terra. Gingerly, he pulled this free, tucking it into his pocket for safe keeping before he started cleaning up the remaining debris.

Thank you so much for asking! I promise, I’ll do my best to remember to mention when I hit that part of Destiny’s Fate, but for now I need to keep it quiet! :)

#That Scene Meme #ladya writes #ShepShep #Destiny's Fate #Destiny's Road #Destiny's Hand #I'm so happy you asked about them!!!!!#laelior

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lyrishadow · 4 years

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Fictober 10 Mistake

Prompt 10: “All I ever wanted” Fandom: Mass Effect Title: Mistakes Pairing: Xara Shepard Rating: T Warnings/Tags: its all fluffy

Yes I have another Shepard, Xara. Earthborn, Hero, and over-comer. Enjoy.

“Lieutenant,” Xara said, as they returned to the Normandy “A word in my office please.” “ Aye aye, Ma’am.” Kaidan nodded. “Joker set a course for Argus Rho lets sort that out.” “Yes ma’am”

Xara was relieved when Kaidan knocked on her door a few minutes after she got in, she had been pacing. Nervous for the conversation she needed to have. “Enter.” “Ma’am,” Kaidan said hesitating. After all, her office was also her quarters. “I need to have a private conversation. Take a seat.” she gestured to the table and chairs. “And for the love of all things, stop calling me ma’ am when it is just us.” “Sorry Shepard.” Kaidan tried “It’s not that I don’t want to.. “ he paused and she nodded she got it. “No pressure Kaidan, I just wanted to talk to you about what happened with the guy in the wards. Finch.” Xara spun around from where she had been pacing nervously and sat down on her chair. “You don’t need to do this Shepard.” Kaidan pointed out “It isn’t in your official records, and you don’t need to explain yourself to me.” “Yes. Yes, I do... Kaidan you… “ Xara sighed and shook her head “you are the highlight of this whole damn mess.” “Thanks.” Kaidan blushed and settled back in his chair. “Alright Shepard I get it, so what is it you want to tell me?” “All I ever wanted as a kid.” Xara stared at the datapad on her table “was to belong to somewhere, my step-father kicked me out of the house when I was six.” “Six? That’s… Shepard, I’m sorry.” “My mum died when I was five so I had a year to get my grieving done;, my stepfather wanted to remarry and I was liability so I was kicked out.” Xara exhaled “I think everyone except Anderson assumes I was born and raised on the streets, but no I had to learn at a young age.” “At least you have that resourceful streak.” Kaidan encouraged. “Yeah, I managed to survive the first week on scraps from restaurant bins, a little food from strangers, and that kind of thing.” “We used to do that, I took it for granted, giving food to the kids who were begging, never considered they were homeless.” Kaidan folded his hands “My parents were very careful though, they suggested there was a gang who would send beggars to collect money for them.” “It is the truth, we used to do that,” Xara confirmed. “We?” “Tenth Street Reds. You might have seen TSR plastered on every surface we could get to with spray paint, and some we were not meant to.” “Oh.” Kaidan shifted “I guess we didn’t grow up far apart then.” “No, I guess we didn’t but our paths did not cross, don’t worry.” Xara replied, “I got really good at the gang stuff, ended up leading a group for a while.” “Oh.” “Yeah oh, that guy had stuff on me.” Xara sighed daring to glance at Kaidan - at least he hadn’t left yet. “I kept meticulous records of our trade.” “Trade?” "Drugs, kidnapping, extortion, and kidnapping to name a few." "Shepard none of that sounds like you?" "I.." Xara wiped her hand over her face. Finally, she looked up at Kaidan. "It was me, how we survived. You start at the bottom and work your way up." "How…what did they get a six-year-old to do?"

Xara shook her head. Lowering her eyes again, the sense of shame overwhelming. This time in her life had been difficult and there were things she still felt she couldn’t tell him. "Shepard…" something in Kaidan’s voice called her out of it. She dared to look up. " I don't tell anyone this stuff." She said trying to not run from the room, afraid that Kaidan was going to view her the way every other potential boyfriend had. Damaged, broken, a waste of time but worth calling for trouble. "I understand Shepard." Kaidan was still there. Still sitting in his chair facing her, now leaning forward, listening. “All the kids get initiated at around six, it isn’t legal but then nor is running spice.” she shrugged “ They teach you to steal, pick locks, look like anything but what you are. They give you a bed and food if you are lucky, they held all the power though so if they said jump you jumped.” she paused “ So my so called friend from the wards…” “ He threatened you.” Kaidan replied, “You are a long way from being one of them.” “ I hope so.” Xara still not convinced “They still have the paper trail. It’s what Finch said they had on me.” “ Your history though .. it is public?” “ Some of it.” she looked away again, damn this was hard “ but he’s right the gang’s values started shifting when the First Contact War ended. I was not the .. the best me.” “Shepard,” Kaidan stood and walked around the table with a half-smile. “ There isn’t a single person in this galaxy who hasn’t made mistakes.” “It seems bigger than I can solve though…” “ Unlike the idiot who accosted you though, there is proof you have changed - the blitz, the fact that we have Wrex, Garrus, Tali, and Liara on our crew, that you go around and talk to everyone..” “ Oh. You have seen that,” Xara was surprised she had not announced her intention to get to know her crew, get to know the alien members. “ Yeah I watch what you do; listen closely Shepard, I am only going to say this regulation breaking thing once: I love that you have grown and changed over time, it makes the future with you an exciting thing; it makes me think we are going to pull this off and defeat Saren.”

“Thank you.” Xara stood slowly as Kaidan grinned.

“ And now I should go before I say or do something that really will break regs. I do actually want to but…” He backed off a step. “ Dismissed” Xara was smiling though as she said it, the stress and worry had left her shoulders when Kaidan had said he loved her.

#fictober20 #catching up slowly #i have a few shepards #mass effect #OC: Xara Shepard.

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anotherdayinchuckletown · 4 years

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They’re Funny That Way, Chapter 1

Hey, guys! How’s it going? I’ve been writing for about ten years now, but this is only the second ever fic I’ve shared anywhere, so I’m super nervous!!!

This is basically my take on a Harley Quinn origin story tailored to the universe of Joker (2019). It’s going to be Harley like we’ve never seen her before, with lots of Arthur, lots of Sophie, lots of original characters, and lots of twists and turns.

I’m SO beyond excited to finally share this with you guys, and I hope you all enjoy! Please like, comment, reblog if you do so that I know if you guys love reading this as much as I am enjoying writing it! This fic is also posted to my AO3 account (https://archiveofourown.org/users/marie_deneuve), so you can also read it there if you’d like!

Without further ado, heeeere we go!!

Chapter 1

The apartment building at Eleven-Forty Anderson Avenue is an eyesore situated in the midst of a likewise ugly city called Gotham. A pimple on a face only a mother could love. A pariah among pariahs.

Management has long since stopped caring about its maintenance, leaving it a patchwork of leaking ceilings, cracking foundations, and broken windows haphazardly boarded shut. Even the most seasoned resident of Gotham City would quicken his pace when passing the telltale archways which separate the apartments from the rest of the city.

Sophie Dumond is currently doing her best to avoid saying any of that out loud.

“It’s really not that bad,” she lies. “Definitely a far cry from where you’re living now, but once you get used to it, it’s not the worst.” Although she is on the phone, she looks down at her shoes anyway, so as not to look her guilt in the face. A crack in the tile beneath her feet stares back accusingly.

“Really? My brother told me his appliances never work, and the maintenance crew is impossible to reach,” the voice on the other line replies skeptically. It belongs to another young woman by the name of Emma Boulanger – Emma Scott, actually, ever since her marriage – who has been Sophie’s best friend since the two of them met in elementary school. She is also the godmother of Sophie’s five-year-old daughter, which was an unpopular decision she had been made to justify more times than she would have liked (honestly, though, her sister could call her if she ever became less of a pretentious bitch).

This phone call marks the first time Sophie has heard from her in one month, two weeks, and six days. Not that she’s been counting or anything.

It’s just strange not to talk to her, as she’s always the first to know of any big changes in her friend’s life. Emma is certainly the first to know about changes in Sophie’s life as well. She’s there when they both open up their letters of acceptance into Gotham University, whooping and cheering and dreaming of finally, finally leaving this shithole, getting glamorous jobs in the big city. She’s there when Sophie is curled up on her bathroom floor, crying and clutching a positive pregnancy test, wanting the best for the child growing inside of her, yet fearing she would never be able to provide it.

That’s why it’s so odd when Emma’s twin brother is the one to mention in the hallway one day that his sister has filed for divorce. And furthermore, that she’s returning to Gotham to live with him until she gets back on her feet.

“Like I said, Emma, it’s not perfect,” she relents. “But hey, at least it’ll be nice to hang out again. It’s been way too long.”

“Yeah, it really has! I moved, what, almost two years ago?” Emma’s voice brightens marginally, and Sophie can nearly see the lopsided grin spreading across her face, so familiar is she with every tic, every tell, every minuscule inflection to her words. “Metropolis is boring as hell, by the way. I almost miss Gotham - call me crazy.”

Sophie huffs, knowing full well that Emma is playing it cool - trying not to let on how much she dreads moving back to a city she called a living, breathing prison for so many years. Best to keep things lighthearted then. Empathize with her, acknowledge her feelings, but never, never pity her. “You’re definitely crazy, Em,” she shoots back, raising an eyebrow. “What exactly does it for you, the enormous rats or the graffiti dicks?”

An almost imperceptible chuckle filters through the receiver. “Well, no one ever really escapes Gotham, do they? I figure I might as well develop a little Stockholm Syndrome.”

Sophie doesn’t immediately respond to the bleak sentiment. It’s simply a joke, of course, and as a matter of fact, very on-brand. But there’s enough truth to it to cause a momentary lapse in the lightness of their conversation.

Sophie has found gradually that Emma was right growing up. Gotham truly seems less like a place and more like an entity. It has a certain way of taking, taking, taking from a person, and when that person has nothing left to give, taking just a little bit more. The citizens meander like restless spirits, doomed to wander to and from their low-wage jobs for eternity. The air is heavier out there, tugging their faces down into sour expressions, aging them prematurely. A reflection of their surroundings.

Sophie often wonders if she looks the way they do.

If Emma notices the shift – which she certainly does, she always does – she politely ignores it. “I guess beggars can’t be choosers… It was nice of Eddie to let me stay with him on such short notice.” Fondly, she adds, “He may be a bit of a shithead, but he’s a good brother.”

Before Sophie can stop herself, she laughs aloud. “No comment. We do live on the same floor, you know.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. Do you two ever hang out?”

“Not particularly.” Sophie doesn’t dislike Eddie – quite the opposite, in fact. She always chalks up her lack of chemistry with him to simply having nothing in common. He and Emma share nothing but a birthday, a head of golden hair, and a pair of striking ice-blue eyes.

Rapid footsteps make their way into the foyer, breaking Sophie out of her reverie. “Mommy, look what I drew!”

Muttering a quick “hang on a second” into the receiver, she turns toward the source of the sound, and a sheet of paper is practically shoved in her face from below. She is met with a mish-mosh of various shapes and colors, one large brown figure taking precedence in the middle of the page.

She smiles warmly. “Wow, that’s very good, Gigi! What’s that a picture of?”

The artist beams with pride. “It’s the roach you killed in the bathroom yesterday!”

Son of a bitch.

“Can we put it on the fridge, Mommy?”

Blinking owlishly, Sophie scrambles for a response. They really don’t teach her this shit in those parenting books she sometimes finds at Gotham Central Library.

She settles on, “Honey, you already have so many nice ones up there, I just can’t decide which ones to keep! Let’s put this one away for now, and I’ll think about it, okay?” She offers her free hand to take the drawing so that she can accidentally misplace it later.

It does the trick. “Okay!” her daughter chirps, proudly handing over her portrait. Encourage, then swiftly change the subject – a motherly sort of manipulation that works in everyone’s favor.

“Holy shit, I haven’t even asked about Gigi yet!” Emma exclaims. “God, she must be getting so big! She starts Kindergarten this year, right?”

“Yeah, in the fall. And she comes all the way up to my waist now, isn’t that insane?” Unmistakable pride colors Sophie’s response.

“That’s so awesome! Did she miss me at all?” comes over the receiver as Gigi simultaneously begins an onslaught of “who’s that, Mommy, who’s that?”

“Miss you? Are you kidding? Listen to this.” Sophie crouches next to her daughter, holding the phone away from her ear, but nearby so that Emma can hear. “Gigi, your Aunt Emma’s on the phone. She’s coming to live here again soon, isn’t that great?”

The resounding shriek is a good indicator that she agrees. And that Sophie is going to have to bring the neighbors another gift basket so they don’t complain about her to the landlord.

“Can I talk to Aunt Emma, Mommy? Can I, can I, please, please, please?” Tiny, impatient hands grapple for the phone as laughter pours in from the other line.

“Come on, if I let you talk to her now, we’ll be stuck here forever.” A quick glance at the clock reveals that it’s nearing eight o'clock. “Besides, aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for bed soon?”

Gigi wrinkles her nose in distaste, and Sophie cuts her off before the complaints can begin. “No arguments, Gigi. Go start your bath – I’ll be there in just a minute.”

She receives a defiant huff; nevertheless, Gigi stomps her way to the bathroom, and Sophie waits for the sound of running water before she returns to the previous conversation.

“So anyway, Eddie tells me you’re holed up in a hotel room until the weekend. I’m guessing that Daniel didn’t take the…the breakup news very well?” she asks, somewhat cautiously. Talking about Emma’s husband – now ex-husband – is a mixed bag, even back when they were dating.

“You could say that,” Emma responds sheepishly. “It wasn’t pretty, let’s leave it at that. I thought it would be best for me to get out of the house right away, give him some time to himself.”

It makes Sophie nervous that she is skirting the question, but then again, Emma’s in a vulnerable position at the moment. And she’s rarely one to talk at length about her own emotions in the first place – she’s much more of a listener.

Sophie would like to ask what she means by “it wasn’t pretty”, but decides against prying. She would also like to ask why she ever married that jackass in the first place, since their relationship had been obviously strained from day one. It was always as if the two of them were tightrope walking over a volcano – bubbling quietly, boiling and threatening to swallow them both whole. The smallest change in the wind, the most harmless comment about Daniel not picking his towel up off the floor could send them tumbling into the inferno. She supposes one of them finally fell.

Something about that man has always creeped her out, but she gave up voicing her discontent with him after about the thirtieth time Emma brushed her off. She won’t say “I told you so”, since she wouldn’t want to belittle whatever pain Emma is going through. Still, she can’t help but feel a little relief – that doesn’t make her a terrible friend, right?

All of this can wait, though. It can wait until they’re seeing each other face-to-face again. Until Sophie isn’t on a strict time limit. She needs to wrap up the current conversation quickly because if she doesn’t, she could possibly be dealing with a flooded bathroom shortly. Five-year-olds do not generally care about the cost of repairing water damage if it seeps into the downstairs neighbor’s ceiling.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay, with…you know…everything.”

“Of course!” Emma reassures her. “I’m perfectly fine. Like I said, I’m looking forward to being home. Honestly.”

Sophie is not convinced, and frankly, it sounds like Emma is not either. She wonders if her friend has been checking in on the worsening condition of their hometown from Metropolis. The homeless population is growing by the day, and the working class is becoming more and more restless due to low wages and poor working conditions in the inner city. Rumor has it that sanitation workers are chief among the dissatisfied, and a garbage strike is all but guaranteed by winter.

So much she wants to say. So much she can’t say. “That’s good. I’m happy for you.”

_______________________________________________________________

Emma remembers around this time last year taking a trip to Paris, France. She saw the premiere of a musical there called Les Misérables – it was based off of her favorite book by Victor Hugo, so naturally, she begged and begged to go.

And what a payoff! The show was spectacular, from the costumes to the stage design to the music. Oh, the music! Despite being there with her then-husband, she had the most fun she’d had in years, letting the melancholy chords turn her as light as the air and the lyrics carry her far, far away in the wind.

Even more than the music, she was captivated by the plot. She could practically feel the plight of the poverty-stricken citizens. One of the opening scenes depicted the starving masses singing of their grief over the way they were snubbed by the wealthy, left to rot in the streets.

That is the scene Emma finds herself stepping into today. Only this time, she is not a passive observer, watching the events unfold without being affected. From today on, she is one of the characters.

From the moment she arrives in downtown Gotham City by taxi, the tension claws at her with icy hands. It digs into her ribcage with each glare aimed her way, even in the mild September breeze. She knows she sticks out like a preacher at a Pride parade in her obviously expensive skirt and heels. It’s not like she had time to go digging around her closet for something more appropriate that night she left her house.

Handsomely tipping her driver, she climbs out of the car and rushes underneath a set of archways and inside the apartment building where she’ll be living for the foreseeable future. She doesn’t look very closely at it from the outside, so desperate is she to get off the street and away from whatever the hell that smell is.

Emma uses the opportunity to finally look around a bit, taking her surroundings in with narrowed eyes. The lobby is dimly-lit, with no color to it whatsoever. The walls are painted a chipped-up brownish yellow, which could have been white many years ago. It reeks of mold, to the point where the smell outside might be the lesser of the two evils.

Leaning carefully against the nearest wall, she mutters, “Not that bad, my ass.” From her purse, she retrieves her recently-purchased copy of a new novel titled Jumanji, and she waits.

And waits.

…

Emma’s eyes snap open - she hadn’t consciously closed them to begin with. She realizes with embarrassment that she almost fell asleep standing up. God, she’s more exhausted than she thought. How long has she been standing down here anyway?

“I’ll be home from work around four; I just need a little time to tidy up before you head over,” Eddie had said on the phone the night before. “I’ll meet you in the lobby and walk you up at six, okay?”

“That works,” Emma had replied. “As long as you’re actually there at six.”

“Hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ve never exactly had a reputation for being punctual.”

“Jesus, Em. You think I’m gonna leave you hanging out down there alone?”

“We’ll see.”

Shutting her book, Emma checks her watch.

Six forty-five. That fucking flake forgot.

She groans, pushing herself languidly off the wall and scanning the room for assistance. No one at the front desk - in fact, there hasn’t been anyone there since she arrived, making her wonder briefly if she’s even in the right building.

Her eyes next land on the myriad of mailboxes against the opposite wall, closed off from the rest of the lobby by rusted wrought-iron bars, most likely to protect the postman. She walks through the open gate tentatively, and upon closer inspection, each mailbox has a sticker labeling the residents by apartment number. Bingo!

It doesn’t take long to find what she’s looking for. On the eighth floor, perfectly spelled out for her, she sees both S. Dumond in 8B and E. Boulanger in 8H. Why not visit the one who didn’t leave her stranded for an hour first? She could always call Eddie on Sophie’s phone anyway - the asshole probably smoked a joint as soon as he got home and passed out on the couch watching Magnum, P.I.

She heads for the elevator and presses the call button. As it whines slowly and almost menacingly down the shaft, she hears someone softly trudging along behind her, the very first sign of another life in here. As she enters the elevator, she politely holds the door open, and makes room for the clown getting on after her.

No, not a silly person. An actual clown. Painted face, red nose, neon green hair and all.

Of all the weird people she might expect to see in a place like this… Not even two hours in Gotham, and the evening is already shaping up to be quite the roller coaster.

Emma can’t help but stare as the doors shut and the clown punches the button for, coincidentally, the eighth floor. She settles into the far corner as she discreetly analyzes him. His posture, his defeated gait, the pitiful expression underneath his painted-on smile… His aura permeates the entire space, seemingly enough to weigh them both down, causing the elevator to drag slowly up the shaft like molasses, screeching all the way.

This is without a doubt the saddest clown Emma has ever seen. And she’s seen Pagliacci.

Around the third floor, there’s one long, particularly loud screech. Emma’s heart leaps to her throat as their ascent suddenly comes to a complete halt, and the lights in the tiny elevator space flicker on and off once. Is a three-story drop enough to kill a person her size? She prays that this isn’t how it ends - in this dingy elevator, terrified, with no one but a fucking clown. A clown who hasn’t moved an inch this entire time.

Thankfully, after a few seconds that seem to drag on for a lifetime, they start to slowly crawl up the shaft once more. Emma breathes an audible sigh of relief, and the clown seems to finally notice her, tossing a quick look of sympathy in her general direction.

Once she’s certain she can speak without her voice quivering, she does so. “Does…that happen often?”

Her voice really gets his attention. He whips his head around so fast she almost worries his little hat will come flying off like a frisbee. He blinks at her once, then twice, as if processing the fact that she is addressing him. For a split second, it looks like he’s going to say something.

Then, remembering himself, he simply shrugs bashfully. Emma lets out a breath she doesn’t realize she’s been holding.

She notices the decorative red flower adorning his lapel, one of those prop flowers that’s actually a tiny water gun. Smiling in a way that she hopes is charming instead of ill-at-ease, she points to it. “I, uh…I like your flower. It’s very pretty.”

The clown tilts his head curiously. After a beat, he wordlessly reaches up and into his bright plaid coat, holding said flower slightly out toward her. Offering for her to come closer, to lean in and smell it.

Emboldened, she grins, shaking her head at him. “No way, mister. I know how that trick ends.” She’s kidding around with him, but she really can’t afford to get her clothes wet right now; she only has the ones on her back, after all.

Still, his lips at last curl upward, a real smile that reaches the lights of his eyes. And it’s then that Emma can see the color in them, an enchanting seafoam green that inexplicably draws her in, pulling her away from the corner and toward his side. He watches her carefully and intensely with an expression she can’t quite read. When he turns to face the doors once more, it’s not without keeping her settled in his periphery.

Most people would probably be a bit nervous being…examined so thoroughly. However, Emma finds his mannerisms endearing in an odd way. She’s never cared much for clowns before, but this one doesn’t seem so bad.

They ride in comfortable silence for another few moments. When they reach their destination, Emma is the first to exit.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m definitely taking the stairs from now on,” she says.

The clown nods in response as he exits behind her, giant red and blue shoes flopping comically over the threshold.

The hallway is a bit noisy, voices of the residents drifting through the paper-thin walls like a mist, creating a fine haze over everything. The walls are just a touch too close together, making Emma claustrophobic and urging her to get to 8B as quickly as possible.

Not wanting to come off as rude, she introduces herself. “I’m new to the building, by the way - my name’s Emma. It’s a pleasure.” She extends a hand to shake.

The clown does return the gesture, but not before staring her hand down for an abnormally long period of time. And his grip through the rough material of his gloves is so soft and careful, it’s as if it’s barely there.

She’d honestly like to chat with this fascinating new neighbor of hers a bit longer, but instead, she pulls her hand away, settling for a polite nod and a cheerful “good night”.

She does not look back to see that the clown’s unwavering gaze follows her all the way down the hall.

#joker 2019 #Joker (2019)#joker #arthur fleck #sophie dumond #harley quinn #my fic #joaquin phoenix joker

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incorrectly-quoted-queers · 4 years

Text

Drunk Punch Love: INTERMISSION ARCHANGEL

Pairing: FemShep and Garrus Vakarian (Shakarian)

Rating: PG-13 (with some tossed F-bombs)

Summary: Their awkward, badass journey through saving the galaxy and accidentally falling in love

INTERMISSION ARCHANGEL: 10 Days

Garrus could hardly stomach the funeral. He was surrounded by countless stiff shirts and big banners and people who knew her as the Commander, the savior.

He didn't want to think about how few of them actually knew her. It made him feel sick.

But he was stuck thinking about them, because thinking about the fact she wasn't here to make fun of all the dumb revelry, or sneak away with him to pester gunners about their stocks, made it far worse. It was like he had a bleeding wound in his chest and it wouldn't fucking stop, and everyone else was just figuring out how to sign each other's casts.

Bright spots were family speeches; Anderson, Joker, and Admiral Shepard stepping up and talking about the woman before the hero. That was the kind of things he wanted to think about: Anya, getting her first pointe shoes on the same birthday she got her first gun. Anya, the loud snorer who failed the tests she studied and aced the ones she didn't. Anya, who never took the Alliance seriously until she went on her first mission, because the second she got a taste of saving people, it changed her.

Hearing stories that sounded even the smallest bit like the Anya Shepard he knew was so much better than all the pomp and circumstance bullshit happening around it.

When it got to the reception, he wasn't even sure if he should stay. He couldn't look Joker and Kaidan in the eyes, knowing their stubborn asses were why she wasn't here. And the rest of the crew? They didn't understand what happened that day. They didn't understand how the Collector ship ripped everything he thought was solid and strong to shreds.

That was the extra bullshit; only Shepard would spook an otherwise mythical species back into existence. Nothing normal could ever take her down.

But it was that part about her getting taken down that was still fucking him up.

Hell, maybe the other two didn't deserve as much blame. He could've dragged her into that escape pod, but like the rest, he listened to her orders and let her go.

Garrus should've known "I'll find you" was heroic bullshit.

Instead of listening to another person ooze about said heroism, he shoved past a frightened looking Kaidan and walked out of the memorial. Guy half looked like he thought Garrus might've been serious about his threat. He hadn't contemplated killing Kaidan, not really, but maybe that would make him feel better, replace his own bleeding heart with something else.

Walking around the Citadel, he didn't know how, but he ended up at a bar. And he ordered the strongest drink he could think of, Krogan ryncol, but he couldn't stomach swallowing it. He just ended up staring down at the bottom of the glass, wondering what Shepard would say to him.

Suddenly, a voice that sounded a little too familiar was talking to him. "You just came from the service, right?" Garrus had to blink a few times as he looked up. In front of him was a blonde, weathered woman in Alliance garb, with one robotic, blue eye and a green one that he knew too well. All throughout her face, there were echoes of the woman he was aching to hear from, but it wasn't her. She extended a hand. "Oksana Shepard. I couldn't stand the fluff, either. And if you salute me right now, I'll punch you."

He took her hand and gestured to the seat next to him. That last part also sounded familiar. "Garrus Vakarian."

"You're one of the strays she picked up for her mission tracking down Saren. From the reports I swiped, she thought highly of you."

Any other day, he'd take that as a compliment. But right now, it just felt like another concussive shot to the chest. "The feeling was mutual."

"How was she doing, at the end? And not the savior of the citadel pride that she lied to me about."

Garrus traced the rim of his glass with his talon, not really sure if this was a conversation or an interrogation. The seriousness in Admiral Shepard's voice hinted towards the latter. But her rank didn't make him feel any easier about it. Garrus said, "I don't know-"

"I respect your loyalty to her, but she's dead, Vakarian. Let me know my daughter."

Swallowing, he saw where Shepard got her intensity. He finally sucked it up and downed some of the ryncol. Garrus tried his best not to picture her face too much; it made it hurt worse. "She was struggling. Losing Ash... our Gunnery Chief, it really dug into her problems with Akuze. And after Saren, the rest of us were moving on. She didn't like that, either. I didn't know until the end how much. If the Collectors hadn't hit, I probably would've changed my plans and stayed, help her get ready for the next fight. But I guess that's not an option now."

"You two were close?"

He could feel Shepard's hand in his, calloused but small and holding onto him like he was a lifeline. And he could hear her in his ear, telling him how he reminded her to be human. And he even could feel her breath on his cheek, practically begging him not to go, but then-

Garrus downed the rest of the vile drink. Before he answered, his other hand fisted the fabric of his pants and his talons dug into his flesh. "Yeah, we were close."

Next to him, Admiral Shepard hit her fist into the table. "I want to blame her comrades, like you. I want to blame myself for making a soldier out of a dancer. I even want to blame my Anya. But it doesn't matter, because my beautiful little foolish detenysh is gone and I'm alone."

"Detenysh?"

For the first time since she sat down, Admiral Shepard smiled. "My crew used to call me the mother bear of the Alliance. So when she was born, they called her the cub. My little cub. My detenysh. It's-"

"Russian. Shepard mentioned it."

"She told you a lot, didn't she?" Admiral Shepard was putting a hand on his shoulder, and it was hard to make out her expression. Unlike his Commander, who spoke with her whole face, the Admiral only made the subtletest movements. "Were you and my daughter...?"

For that one, Garrus could be firm. Or, at least, fairly honest. "No. Shepard was my best friend."

With an eyebrow raised, the Admiral kept going. "Okay, sure, but did you two ever-"

"No!" Garrus realized he said it a little too loud a little too late. Despite his answer, the Admiral had this uncomfortable smirk on her face. He didn't want to be looked at like that. Especially not by someone who looked so much like... Rubbing his forehead, he tried to clear things up. "Nothing like that happened between the Commander and I."

Admiral Shepard shrugged. "Too bad. My daughter struggled to connect with people. But I suppose a best friend will do." Taking a deep sigh, she leaned on his shoulder to stand up, looking older than her years. "Thank you, for being her friend. Now, I'd love to embarrass some stories out of you, but I'm sure the Alliance leadership isn't happy I disappeared. And I probably need to save Joker from politics." With way too heavy a hand, she patted his back. "Best of luck, Garrus Vakarian."

And she walked off, just like that.

He'd love to say that the conversation comforted him. But if anything, it only made him angrier. If Shepard was here, she'd laugh with him about how goddamn awkward that was, and she'd tell him stories about how her mom always pried like that. Something.

Instead, he just got to sit here silence, alone.

No matter what the hell he and Shepard were, clearly they were getting somewhere, their friendship mattered. All that talk she had of not being a good enough hero? Somehow, he felt like he was helping her wash that self-loathing and doubt away. And she had definitely been making a better man out of him. Hell, he was ready to ship himself off to the Spectres for the chance the help the galaxy like she did.

But one goddamn laser and none of that mattered anymore.

Well, one goddamn laser and two idiot men who he knew were just doing their jobs, but dammit, he wished they did them better.

All he had left was his empty glass and a mirage of a woman across the table from him, her soft brown hair falling out of its ties, giggling over childhood romance and her own loneliness. Her green eyes squinted away when she laughed, because she always laughed with her whole face, kinda like she was about to sneeze. And he'd never see that again.

Okay, it was time to leave the bar.

Garrus wasn't quite sure when he started walking towards the Alliance shore leave apartments, trying to find out if there was anything left of her there. But when he got there, to the one she'd shown him their first time on the Citadel, her name plate was already gone.

Goddamn everything he knew about her was just slipping away and he couldn't stop it.

Staring at the empty plate, he lost any level of self-control. Pounding his fists against the door, he just wanted the pain to go away. Or better, he wanted her to open this damn door, tell him it was all just some awful, elaborate undercover mission and she was back and they could be like they were before.

But he only got a few pounds in before a door opened across the hall. Lucky man he was, it was old brown eyes and biotics himself, Lieutenant Alenko.

When their gazes met, he could see the fear in Alenko's eyes. He'd seen that kind of fear before, normally from new-to-space humans who assumed turians were angry, war-hungry monsters.

Between him and Alenko, though, they knew exactly why he should be afraid of him.

Before he could even get in a word, Garrus put his forearm against his chest and shoved him against the wall. "Because of you, she's not here anymore. Do you even have anything to say about that?"

He knew he was probably going too far, and he could tell from how Kaidan was breathing that he was putting a lot of pressure on his windpipe. But frankly, he didn't give a damn. It took a moment, but Kaidan finally said, "I'm sorry, Garrus. I fucked up. I-" Garrus just pushed harder.

Out of nowhere, Kaidan's door opened and Liara came out, in an Alliance robe, clutching a fistful of biotics. "Garrus, put him down."

Of all the things he wanted to do, his favorite would be to shove Kaidan through some Presidium glass and see the shatter patterns, but he listened. After all, maybe telling them what assholes they were would make them feel worse than some broken bones. Garrus crossed his arms and said, "Riiight, I remember Shepard told me you two hooked up. Well, congratulations, without your pathetic crushes on her you wouldn't be here together. You get to be happy. But she's not here, and you both know that's bullshit."

Kaidan started, "I think we should all just-"

When he flicked his glare over to him, the biotic stopped dead. "I don't take orders from you."

"Garrus, she wouldn't want you to do this." His head turned to Liara, and it felt like she was peeling away his plating with a welding knife. "I know how you feel-"

"None of you understand how I feel." He didn't want to be any closer to Liara, and he definitely didn't want to admit there was anything right to what she was saying, but slowly the ache started winning over the anger. "Fuck, I just need to go."

They might have called for him another time or two, but he didn't listen. He just wanted to be off this damn station, and anywhere but here.

He was over the Alliance and their bullshit; the only thing good about it was Shepard and now she was gone. Without her, all he wanted to do was go somewhere her memory hadn't infested.

Without even heading back to his old apartment, Garrus booked the first passage to Palaven.

///

This is a fun littler Intermission I wanted to do, exploring Garrus' side of things during the two years Shepard is gone. But it's only a few chapters, then we'll be back to Part 2.

Thanks so much for reading, and double thanks to my lovely patrons:

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#Drunk Punch Love #shakarian #femshep x garrus #garrus vakarian #Anya Shepard #Intermission: Archangel #Funeral #commander shepard #Shepard's Funeral #Liara x Kaidan #Kaidan Alenko #Oksana Shepard

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crqstalite · 4 years

Text

Epoch.

(n.) a particular period of time in history or a person’s life.

for MER 2020. day 3, mass effect + andromeda. set in 2185/6 + 2819.

23:45. sent november 13th, 2185.

>> video recovered.

>video playing.

"Hey Dee--No that's wrong. Shepard? Kodelyn? Commander? Fuck. Y'know what? No script."

[inhale and subsequent exhale. camera shifts to focus on dark haired woman in alliance clothes.]

"Shepard. I don't know whether to believe the rumors or not. For nearly a year they've said that you're alive. Hell, Alenko came back a while ago from Horizon, shell shocked saying that Anderson was right. Don't even know how I'm supposed to feel about that."

"Feels like everything fell apart when you died. I lost my best friend, I lost the first ship I'd ever served on. I lost basically all of my contacts. The only person I'm still even in sort of contact with was Joker, but that was nearly...two years ago? I see Alenko whenever he's on the Citadel, but he's clammed up. Won't say a word about you, about the Normandy, about anyone but his current assignments in the Terminus Systems. I think he's in denial."

[dry chuckling. sighs.]

"We're all in denial, by the way. I wanted to go after Liara, find what she knew. Apparently she set up shop on Illium, but by the time I got there, she was gone. No one would tell me where she was. Alenko said Garrus was with you, so that's some solace if you're still out there. You know he'd follow you to hell and back after what you did with Saleon for him."

"I still don't believe you're alive. I saw the reports. Saw the whole debacle over what attacked the Normandy. Good old Council, still denying everything. There's no way that was the Geth. They're only claiming that it was because they don't want to start a mass panic over what they don't know and can't fathom in their peanut sized brains. I'm going to biotically smack Sparatus into next week if he claims Reapers don't exist again."

[muffled conversation]

"The real reason I'm making this video is because the Initiative is taking off in a bit. I know, it moved fast since my dad got shut down over SAM. We're set to take off in the next two weeks, so everyone's cleaning up shop. Farran has had his apartment cleaned out since we got clearance for the arks. He's always been on board to head to Andromeda."

"I didn't want to leave at first. I helped the best I could before I headed off to Therum with Liara, but I thought that's what was here for me. The Milky Way is my home. Then the Geth attacked and I saw you again. Then I decided I might just be a career soldier like my dad always wanted. I'm trained as an adept, you know. I was happy on the Normandy. Helping Liara with research, going out to uncharted worlds with you. I had my best friend and new friends all around me. It was far from perfect, especially with Hackett throwing mission after mission at us, and then Virmire..."

[rustling of datapads. gets up, paces back and forth. sound is viable, but accompanied by the sound of socked feet on linoleum.]

"Then you died. Then I didn't have a purpose anymore, sitting in that escape pod for nearly a day, acting like a child. Rocking back and forth, crying to the point I couldn't even really see or breathe. I didn't want anyone to touch me, hell I went out on my own to search for you. I got lost. Tali found me, throwing pieces of the Normandy around like a raving idiot searching for anything that would point me back to you."

"After that, I threw myself back into helping my dad. He was disgraced for SAM -- I'm sure you know that bit by now. Everywhere on the Citadel reminded me of you. Everywhere in the Milky Way reminded me of you. I had to get out of here, and acting like the rest of the galaxy didn't exist sounded like it would be the best course of action. Somewhere completely new, somewhere I could wipe the slate clean. Start over. Be happy again."

[laughs. sigh of disappointment. looks over to clock.]

"Joker came to me in...late 2183, I want to say? Said Cerberus -- yeah Cerberus of all people, those guys mixed up with the marines? -- had you. Said they were rebuilding you and he had proof. I denied him, didn't believe him. I knew he'd taken your death the hardest, that he blamed himself for it. I said things I shouldn't have. I know I can't justify it that 'I was in a bad place'. I hurt him, I know I did. Then he was just...gone. Completely off the grid. Anderson couldn't track him down. Your sister disappeared after that as well."

"I felt so alone. Farran tried to comfort me. Didn't work. The Initiative was tangible again, and I didn't see dad for a while. I had never been so ready to leave before. Now looking around, the empty room, the severed ties with anyone else in the Alliance? I ask myself if I'm doing the right thing or not. Whether leaving it all behind is the right decision."

[more muffled conversation. swiping of another tab before returning to chair and sitting down.]

"Look. If you are with Cerberus, I know you're doing it for a reason. Maybe you're a mole or something. Tearing them apart from the inside out. If you're alive, shit if you're even a little alive, please send me something. Confirm it, please. So I can reconsider all of this if I have to. I'd do anything to fight by your side again. Stop me before I make the most irreversible mistake in my life, Shepard. Kodelyn, please. Andromeda is full of opportunities, but you were everything to me. Alenko can mope all he wants, yes I knew about that, but you were my friend first, my sister first. You gave me so much, and now I can't pay you back."

"We can talk about Cerberus if that's what you want. We can talk about whatever's going on. Anything you want. I won't judge."

"Please. Come home, Shepard. I need you."

>video playback ended.

>>video archived.

23:56. november 13th, 2185.

>received november 14th, 2185.

>>opened july 8th, 2186.

16:18. sent july 8th, 2186.

>>video recovered.

>video playing.

{crackling. mumbled words. indecipherable. recorded on omni-tool.}

{clearing procedure}

{video stabilizing}

[woman appears. dark haired. recognized as commander shepard of alliance navy.]

"Fia. Hi."

"This is an entire year late. I know. I was too late, I think. I don't know. Any records of the Myungs were erased from the Citadel databases. I just recently got access to classified and personal files back, yeah long story I was arrested for a couple months. Reinstated as of a few minutes ago."

[mumbled conversation from male voice behind subject. ignored.]

"Find Vega, get him prepped for Mars. We're going in quick and quiet but tell him to be ready if things get hot."

[video refocuses.]

"Earth was just attacked. The Reapers are here. Sparatus is going to eat whatever a hat is in Turian places for denying their existence all these years."

"The suicide mission against the Collectors was a success. They're no more. But the Reapers...shit I just watched them take out Vancouver. We're getting reports of other attacks all over the planet, more in the Sol system by the hour."

[woman pulls helmet out. video focuses.]

"Shit shit shit shit. If it's any solace, my parents are alright. My brother is as well. Lali's onboard with me. As far as Dr. T'Soni and Lieutenant Johansson are concerned, we don't know. Last we heard they were on Mars, fighting their way to the archives for anything to fight the Reapers with. Staff Commander Petrakis has been off the grid for a couple months now, not a word out of her since the collector base assault. Major Alenko doesn't know where she is, but we know we need to get in contact with her, and in turn Garrus and the others if we can. We need every force we can get."

[clattering noise sounds. more cursing.]

"Fia. I'm so sorry. I heard AI took off a few months back while I was under house arrest. I know you're probably gone, and I wish I'd seen it before. My omni-tool code changed back late 2185, security risk so close to the base assault. Lawson was worried after Horizon that brass would come after me. I'm so damn sorry."

[incoming call on another line.]

"Please. If you get this, be careful. I don't know if the Reapers will come after the Initiative. Be ready for anything. They will not stop at Earth, I know that much. Tell your father, Garson, anyone to be ready for whatever comes your way in Andromeda. I've always loved you, sister, best friend. You know that. I’ll always be with you, wherever you are."

[incoming call.]

"Be careful, tabula rasa. There's another galaxy out there, and if you all are the last humans out there after all this goes down, make us proud."

[incoming call.]

"Don't let the cycle take us again."

>video playback ended.

>>video archived.

16:25. july 8th, 2186.

>received august 22nd, 2186.

>seen august 30th, 2818.

>>opened june 1st, 2819.

"So the Reapers were real then," Cora says, turning to the Pathfinder, deep in thought, "They were in such a hurry to deploy us because whoever funded the Initiative--"

"They knew the Reapers were coming. We were humanity's Noah's Ark," Fiametta Myung responds, shutting off the blue and white display in her father's old quarters. Stepping back, she runs a hand through her brown and purple hair, "And now? We don't even know if Earth survived all of that. And Shepard..."

"It's been six hundred years. I get the picture," Cora muses, "You said Dr. T'Soni travelled with her early on though? You think you might be able to get a message out to her?"

"If I could, I think we would've got one first from either her or Shepard. Either with the destruction of the galaxy or one of victory," Frustrated, Fiametta sits down on the edge of the bed, "Cora, forget that T'Soni might still be alive. Do you think there's a chance the Reapers could come for us?"

"All the way in Andromeda?" The commando shifts her posture, crossing her arms and leaning against the desk, "If you want my opinion, it's a flat I don't know. You worked with her closer than I did. Any Reaper information I heard about was secondhand accounts from you."

"Great. I'm flying blind again. Tann is going to have my ass if we know about this and they show up in a couple months to finish the job," Fiametta drags a hand down her face, flopping back on the bed unceremoniously, "I'm the worst pathfinder to ever pathfind. First my dad dies, then every planet in uninhabitable, can barely reunite all the races, can't find the Quarian ark, and to top it off, nearly lost the whole Hyperion taking Meridian."

"Well I was going to say that if they did...well we could get a headstart on them? Start bunkering down before they find us, so they don't catch us off guard like they did the Milky Way," She says, gesturing to the computer. That made sense. They probably hit Earth so hard because they hadn't been ready. Fiametta scoffs inwardly, damn War Council never took Shepard's word for anything and now they'd paid for it dearly. Her tone is still concerned, but softens, "And don't say that. First, who knows if they managed to take down the Reapers anyway? Second, we don't know jack about what's going down in the Milky Way right now. Anything could've happened, and we could be worrying for nothing. You found Meridian, we took Meridian and took down the Archon. Hell you made every viable world habitable for generations to come. What's a couple more to add to the list of achievements?"

"Cora, the Archon was one dude. The Kett retreated, probably to gather more forces. These Reapers? They've been in this cycle for fifty thousand years, probably since the beginning of time. The Protheans weren't the first to be wiped out, and they might not be the last either," Fiametta curses under her breath, "We aren't prepared for war. We've barely got enough forces to fight off the remaining Kett, much less another wave of space cthulus. We're explorers, not an army."

"It took us six hundred years to get out here. Maybe it'll take the Reapers a whole lot less, but we've still got time if they do. I'll requisition Tann for more forces on the edge of Heleus in a few years time if you're still really worried. We just need to establish a foothold first and then we can have patrols out."

"Now you're making me sound crazy," she notes, "Forget the Reapers for right now. Just stick a pin in it, Cora. I'm rambling, you don't have to pay attention to me."

"If that's what you want," Cora chides, striding over to the bed, "Hey. You've done a damn good job at colonizing Heleus. If anyone can take the Reapers, it's you."

"It's Shepard, actually. She was the one with a Prothean cipher in her head," While Cora sputters at the news, Fiametta chuckles, "Early 2183. Feros. Thorian. Some asari. I wasn't there for it. Just... stressed about finding this all out now."

"She was really important to you, huh?" Cora questions, gears still turning in her head, "She'd be proud of you. Just like your father would be."

"Hope so," Fiametta answers, sitting up to face her second in command. She doesn't know if it's true, but if it makes Cora feel better about their situation, she can at least pretend to take the praise in stride. Her heart hurts, Shepard had always been there to guide her through the worst of it. And now? She was all alone, pathfinding without a path to follow, "C'mon, let's get out of here before Jaal tears the Hyperion apart looking for me."

Cora nods approvingly, a smile crossing her features. As the other woman leaves, Fiametta stands again. She pulls up the UI with a few swipes, scrolling back to the message. She watches it again. Shepard hadn't looked all that well in those final moments. Bloodied and bruised, torn BDUs. Arrested? For what? Working with Cerberus? Hell if this so-called suicide mission was so successful, they should've given her a medal like they did after the Skyllian Blitz. Johansson -- that was Annika. Petrakis was Brione. Vega, she hadn't heard of a Vega before. Alenko...that meant Kaidan had been promoted after she left.

She misses them. Six hundred years separates her from the people that knew her best.

Six hundred years separates her and Shepard. Her best friend. Her everything at one point. History would remember them for their sacrifices. They’d better remember her sacrifices specifically. Maybe she should try to get in contact with Dr. T'Soni. If Shepard's message made it to them in-transit, maybe with the Nexus' connections she could get her own out to the Milky Way. Find one of Shepard's descendants, or one of the species that hadn't been entirely destroyed if Liara's research had been truthful when they had been working together.

Her hand hovers over the UI, considering. Her old life had ended. She hadn't woken up a tabula rasa, but instead had changed Heleus for the better. She hopes.

Staying in the past wouldn't get her anywhere.

>video saved. june 1st, 2819.

>>removed from active messages. june 1st, 2819. archived by pathfinder fiametta myung.

#mass effect #mass effect oc #oc #original character #fiametta myung #kodelyn velasquez #cora harper #pathfinder ryder #mass effect andromeda #mass effect andromeda fanfiction #mass effect andromeda oc #mass effect relationship week #original female character #eye of the storm #merweek2020

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soldiermom1973 · 4 years

Text

N7 Month, Day 30 - Unity

I’ve never done something like this before - taken a 30 day writing challenge and actually done it. Every single day. For those of you who liked/reblogged, thank you! If you stopped by the AO3 links & left a note or kudos, thank you! I’m always open to prompts & questions about Allie & Kaidan, so drop me a line!

For this prompt, Allie & Garrus catch up after she saves him on Omega. You can read it on AO3, if you prefer. . . . . . . Allie was in her quarters waiting for Garrus to finish calibrating the ship's cannons. Their conversation in the comms room after she saved him was brief – she had dozens of questions, but they each had things to take care of first. He asked her to give him a few hours to familiarize himself with the ship's new hardware, then they'd get together and catch up. She smiled when her door chimed and Garrus strolled in. “Nice place,” he hummed, taking in the view. “Fish? Might want to keep that krogan away from them.” “His name's Grunt and he helped me save your ass, remember,” Allie grinned. “Yeah, he seems alright,” Garrus admitted, accepting a bottle of water. “How's your face?” Allie asked. “It hurts,” he shrugged. “But that's to be expected when a rocket gets up close and personal.” They talked for a bit about Allie coming back from the dead and her reluctant partnership with the Illusive Man. “They're letting him fly,” Allie said when Garrus voiced surprise about Joker being on board. “It's what he loves more than anything and the Alliance took that from him. Sure, he could teach, but why on earth would you ground the best pilot you have?” “And Chakwas?” he asked. “You'll have to ask her,” Allie shrugged. “I know she took a leave of absence but other than that, her reasons for being here are her own. I know she missed Joker, for some godforsaken reason,” she laughed. “He does have that certain charm about him, doesn't he?” Garrus started to laugh and then winced. “Please stop doing that. It really hurts to laugh.” “Sorry,” Allie offered, still grinning. “So tell me about Omega.” Garrus explained again how he got sick of the red tape at C-Sec and found himself among the worst of the worst. “Like I told you down there, all I had to do was point and shoot. There are bad guys all over the place and I didn't have any red tape to stop me.” “At least you didn't piss Aria off,” Allie replied. “Because nothing I did affected her directly. I can't say I'd have cared if it did, either,” he shrugged. “Well, I can tell you she was pretty impressed at you getting all the merc bands so pissed they teamed up. It was an impressive display of unity,” Allie told him. “It was,” Garrus leaned back and smirked. “At least up until you showed up and we stomped the last bit of all their leadership into the ground. Actually, Aria should probably be thanking me.” “Oh? How's that?” Allie asked. “I created one hell of a power vacuum. She'll be able to install anyone she wants. I pretty much just gave her control of all three groups.” “And you don't think she had that already?” “No,” Garrus shook his head, “not like she will now. I'm sure they paid their tribute and answered to her in some respect, but they were each their own thing.” “Well, next time we're there, I'll be sure to tell her that,” Allie laughed. The chatted a bit more about where the rest of the SR-1 crew might be and the other dossiers Allie had to look at. She mentioned Liara had messaged her and was on Illium and that she'd bumped into Tali on Freedom's Progress. Neither of them had heard from Wrex. Allie sighed and her pain was obvious when she said she had no idea where Kaidan was, that Anderson wouldn't tell her anything. “I just hope he's ok,” she murmured. “I don't want him hearing I'm back through rumors and paparazzi vids.” “It might be too late for that. There were rumors all over Omega that you weren't dead. Hell, when I first saw you cross that bridge, I thought I was hallucinating, then I realized those damn rumors were actually true. How are you going to handle it when you do finally talk to him?” “I don't know,” Allie shrugged and sighed again. “I know he loved me, Garrus. I just hope he realizes I haven't changed.” “You know he's going to take issue with the whole Cerberus thing, right?” he asked. “Yeah, I know, but he knows me,” she argued. “He knows I wouldn't be accepting their help if I had any other choice.” “I hope you're right, Shepard,” Garrus mused. He stood and stretched. 'Just prepare yourself for that conversation to go sideways.” He looked at his omnitool and cursed under his breath. “I didn't realize how long I'd been up here. I have to get a hold of my dad. The last time we talked, he knew things were bad. I need to let him know I'm ok.” “Yeah, you'd better do that,” Allie stood and gave him a hug. “You have no idea how good it is to have you back, Garrus.” “There's no place I'd rather be,” he grinned, spun on his heel, and walked out. Allie sat back down and thought about the last part of their conversation and hoped that wherever Kaidan was, he was safe and he was happy, and she hoped that when they met again, he'd be able to look past her new uniform and see she was still the same person he worked with, followed, and fell in love with. “Commander, the Illusive Man wants to talk to you.” Joker's voice filled her quarters, interrupting her thoughts. “Did he say what he wants?” Allie sighed and dragged her hand down her face. She really wasn't in the mood to talk to him right now. “He said he had some intel on a colony that might be getting hit by the Collectors, he needs you to get a hold of him ASAP.” “Right, I'm on my way.” Allie stood, stretched, and left her quarters, still thinking about Kaidan and hoping Garrus was wrong.

#N7Month #N7 Month 2019 #Unity #1000 Years #Allie Shepard #Garrus Vakarian #Jeff 'Joker'' Moreau #Mass Effect 2 #Horizon #Kaidan Alenko

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pip-n-flinx · 5 years

Text

The Fall of Earth

I decided to start working on a Mass Effect fic. Not sure any of my followers are interested, but I decided to post the WIP here. I’d love constructive criticism if you have any! Preface, I’ve gotten tired of seeing Ashley Williams hate. I just wanted to write something that painted her in a better light than most of the stuff I’ve seen recently. I also want a happy ending for her. Hell, I want a happy ending for all the Mass Effect characters. I just haven’t seen much fan-based content that does her justice IMO.

EDIT: moving it to tumblr I lost some of my formatting as well as bold and italics. It doesn’t read quite as cleanly anymore. Sorry about that!

It was hard being cooped up in this apartment under house arrest. Harder than Shepard would admit to anyone, anyways. There was little to occupy his time. Sure, they provided him a holonet uplink, even occasionally asked what he wanted for dinner. The officers assigned to guard his room were polite, sometimes even stopping to make conversation. It just made it worse. Many of them couldn’t seem to decide if he was still the hero of legend, or if the first human Spectre had been replaced by the husk in the room.

Relieved of duty. He could see it now. It had taken time, but he had begun to agree with them. As far as the Tribunal was concerned he had never died, never been resurrected. They thought he had defected. No one comes back from the dead after all. No one.

They thought he had signed on with Cerberus. They thought he had agreed to be cybernetically implanted. No medical personnel would back that assertion if they got a look at his file, certainly, but it didn’t matter to the Brass.

He was a terrorist. He’d blown up the Alpha relay. He’d sided with a rogue splinter cell headed by a war criminal. And then, inexplicably as far as they were concerned, he had turned himself in, along with a trove of Cerberus tech.

He was concerned what had happened to EDI and Joker. Garrus would be fine, he’d never trucked much with the Turian Hierarchy so far as Shepard could tell. Tali was safely back with her people, though he couldn’t help but be furious at the admirals for trying to exile her. Thane was on his last legs anyway, and he had released Samara to her Justicar duties before returning to Alliance space. Jacob and Miranda “disappeared” three days before they Sol System, but he couldn’t blame them. He certainly didn’t begrudge them the escape pods. But Joker, Edi, and the Engineering team were another matter. An unshackled AI? A ex-military Cerberus pilot? More alliance crew members that had left for Cerberus? He hoped they were treating the crew well.

He watched the shuttles go by outside his window, a few military craft sprinkled among them. New York was a major city, and there was a ton of air traffic. Watching them fly by he wondered if any of them were rushing home to see family after a day of work. Maybe there were doctors and other emergency services personnel rushing to the office to relieve exhausted co-workers. Probably a few people who’d had a drink or two taxiing home. But he could never be sure who was who.

His thoughts inevitably turned back to Ashley. Gunnery Chief Williams as he remembered her. Or just Ash. He’d heard fervor in her voice when they’d met on Horizon. Called him a god, back from the dead. But she was hurting inside, and he was too slow on the uptake. For him, it was a matter of months since they had spoke. But for her, it had been two years. Two years since the commandeered the Normandy. Two years since they saved the citadel together. Two years since he had ordered her into the escape pod without him. Two years since Joker had landed, alone and tormented, to report that Shepard had been spaced before his eyes.

And he had the gall to ask her to join him. But she was Alliance, through and through. They had finally promoted her. She wasn’t going to turn her back on the Alliance then. What’s worse is it was Cerberus. Every Alliance soldier, from the grunts to the brass, had been shaken when he and Ash revealed what Cerberus was doing to MIA Alliance soldiers.

He could tell afterwards he had shaken her faith. Siding with Cerberus had rocked her to her core. It was a bridge too far for her.

But Shepard had an AI designed for cyberwarfare onboard. Besides, he was no slouch on an omni-tool himself. No matter how classified her file was he was going to check in on her. And that was when he had found it. The irony had taken his breath.

Many of the details about the founding of Cerberus were redacted, including the Illusive Man’s real name. But one thing was clear. General Williams had created the organization in the wake of the ground invasion by the Turian forces. The same General Williams who resigned. The same General Williams who began the “Williams Curse.” The same General Williams whose granddaughter had saved the Citadel with him.

And Shepard had to admit, he was proud.

You could argue it was in her upbringing: when he had met Ashley she was bordering on open xenophobia. She had stood up to the Terra-Firma party on the Citadel, but only after working side by side with Tali, Garrus, Wrex and Liara for the better part of several months. Live-fire scenarios tended to breed understanding faster than any immersion course, adrenalin and the squad broke through Ash’s barriers quickly.

You could argue it was in her blood: her grandfather had founded and funded Cerberus himself after being forced to surrender his troops on Shianxi. It wasn’t as if the Alliance had done her many favors. Only Kaiden’s good word and Captain Anderson’s sense of character had raised her out of the ground forces. All this despite and impeccable record and being the sole survivor of her unit on Eden Prime. But she stuck with Alliance in the face of that and in the face of her former CO and lover returning from the dead.

He paused to consider that. He’d lost his unit on Elysium, held the line himself just long enough for reinforcements to arrive. And he’d only done that because the Batarians didn’t expect the Alliance to have sophisticated stealth technology. Ashley had survived an invasion by a force with weapons that shredded shields, and had done so without the benefit of any advanced training. Survived, reported to her reinforcements, and then carried the battle back to the Geth, retaking the spaceport and disarming the nuclear warheads set to blow a quarter of the planet into a nuclear winter.

The Alliance granted him the star of Terra and the title of “Commander.” All Gunnery Chief Williams got was a post on a starship. And barely even that.

To say he admired her was an understatement. That woman could have walked on water and only he and Alenko would have ever noticed. He got the feeling Wrex begrudgingly admired her by the end. Alliance brass still couldn’t see past her Grandfather’s overreach though. And there seemed to be nothing he could do about it.

There was a child, playing with a model fighter down below. Modern blue paint job if his vision wasn’t going. It was another painful reminder that normal life wasn’t coming for him.

Bitter. It hadn’t helped yet, but maybe another month of bitterness would turn that around for him.

The door behind him hissed open.

“Commander.”

“You’re not supposed to call me that anymore James.”

“Not supposed to salute you either. We gotta go, the Defense Committee wants to see you.”

“Sounds important” Shepard said, tossing aside his data pad. To be honest he had forgotten he was holding it. He tried to refocus and bring his mind back to the room, the here and now, where for the first time in weeks he was needed. He followed Vega out of the room, but he was struggling to keep pace.

“What’s going on?”

“Couldn’t say. Just told me they needed you, now.” said the Lieutenant, barely turning his head to check that Shepard was keeping up.

Shepard then noticed a well decorated dress uniform bearing down on them. Not knowing what was going on, Shepard decided to take a play out of Wrex’s handbook.

“Anderson.”

“Admiral.”

“You look good Shepard.” Anderson made a point of shaking his hand before standing the Lieutenant at ease. A curious move. He followed it up with more wit than Shepard had heard since his tribunal: “Maybe a little soft around the edges. How are you holding up since being relieved of duty?”

The admiral strode off, staying just a step ahead of him and setting a brisk pace at odds with his informal greeting.

“It’s not so bad once you get used to the hot food and soft beds.” Shepard quipped back.

“We’ll get it sorted out” Anderson still strode purposefully onwards.

He’d had enough of being strung along. “What’s going on? Why is everyone in such a hurry?”

“Admiral Hackett is mobilizing the fleets. I’m guessing word has made it to Alliance Command,” Anderson finally turned to look Shepard in the eyes. “something big is headed our way.” The Admiral was still striding briskly onwards, now ascending the last set of steps before the committee room.

Shepard, though, had stopped cold. His stomach had fell through the floor.

“The Reapers?” He already knew the answer. He didn’t need to ask. But Anderson was still playing coy. Turning to look back, he gave the official answer even though he seemed to find it distasteful.

“We don’t know. Not for certain”

“What else could it be?”

“If I knew that... “

“You know we’re not ready for them. Not by a long shot.”

“Tell that to the Defense Committee.”

“Unless we’re planning on talking the Reapers to death, the committee is a waste of time”

“They’re just scared.” Anderson cut him off, earning a glare that would have blanched a junior officer. “None of them have seen what you’ve seen,” he continued. “You faced down a Reaper. Hell you spoke to one, then blew the damn thing up!” And there was a fire in his eyes. “You’ve seen how they harvest us. What they plan to do to us… You know more about this enemy than anyone”

The bitterness that had consumed him minutes ago flared back to life. He had warned them. Time and again he had warned them, dammit. So he lashed out.

“That why they grounded me? Took away my ship?”

Anderson rounded on him. “We both know that's not true. When you blew up the Batarian relay, hundreds of thousands of Batarians died!” There was a finger cocked at Shepard now. Reminded him of basic is all it did, and he was no recruit anymore dammit!

“It was that or let the Reapers walk through our backdoor!”

“I know that Shepard. And so does the committee. If it wasn’t for that you’d have been court martialed and left to rot in the brig.”

“That, and your good word” Shepard admitted dejectedly. Still hard to admit the Admiral had a point, but he didn’t want Anderson thinking he hadn’t noticed how light his sentence really was.

“Yeah. I trust you Shepard. And so does the committee.”

“I’m just a soldier Anderson. I’m not a politician.” Shepard hated to admit it, but he didn’t see what he could do now. His warnings had been ignored, and he had only beaten the Reaper forces through thorough planning and his team. The best team. And his team was long gone.

“I don’t need you to be either. I just need you to do whatever the hell it takes to help us stop the Reapers”

A door hissed open and the orderly stepped forward. “They’re expecting you two Admiral.”

As they rounded the door to the hallway labeled “Courtroom Access” his jailer surprised him. “Good luck in there, Shepard.” He hadn’t known what to make of Lt. Vega, but he was damned if he was going to ignore a fellow officer. He turned to see his arm outstretched, took the hand and shook it. The man was shredded like he lived at the gym, and he tried his best to crush Shepard’s hand. Every young officer seemed to have decided that a firm grip was the first step to getting a grip. It wasn’t true of course, but he humored the LT with a lopsided smile before a voice behind him stopped him cold.

“Anderson.”

“Lieutenant Commander.”

“Shepard?”

He knew that voice. He turned so fast he almost gave himself whiplash. “Ashley?” it was soft enough he wasn’t sure had said it aloud, but she heard him.

And that was it. He was lit with an irrational hope again. It reminded him of the ride through the conduit. Yeah this shit was bad, but he and Ash were playing for the same team again. Lieutenant Commander huh? Damn, turns out the Alliance Brass pulled their heads out of their asses long enough to promote her. Hell itself must have frozen over. Pride swelled up in his chest again.

“Lieutenant Commander, how’d it go in there?” Anderson had interrupted his temporary reverie.

“I can never tell with them. I’m just waiting for orders now.”

Aaaaand Ashley still detested politics. Shepard grinned from ear to ear. He could scarcely believe it was really her. He decided to press his luck and stepped forward.

“Lieutenant Commander?”

“You hadn’t heard?” Anderson replied, clearly not that startled that Shepard was behind the times.

“No. I’m a little out of the loop these days.” But as he said it he could see Williams tense up a bit.

“Sorry Sir. Didn’t mean to keep you out of the loop.”

It’d taken him a moment to parse what seemed odd about her. Gone was the tomboy he had commanded two and a half years ago. Her hair was down, and that outfit couldn’t be within regs even if they had loosened up considerably. She must be too valuable an asset to discipline over little things now. I can’t believe it. She didn’t just break the Williams Curse, she made herself indisposable. How many years of service did it take her to prove her worth to them? I wonder if it was worth it....

“That’s okay. I’m just glad I bumped into you Ash.” He favored her with what he hoped was his best smile. Not full teeth, but heartfelt. He didn’t have a mirror to see if he looked like a damned fool, but it had the intended effect: she smiled back.

“Me too.”

But then the orderly was back, ushering them into the committee room. Anderson was all business. Ashley Williams gave him a smile and a nod and for a second he was a younger man again, stepping forward to become the first human Spectre. Alright then. I can do this.

#mass effect #mshep #ashley williams #fanfic #WIP #mass effect 3 #ME3

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poweredbycoffeeandwine · 6 years

Note

If you have any spots left, I'd love love love to see Tavrien and Kaidan and the secret Santa prompt. :)

Here is the aforementioned angst @lechatrouge673! This one is for you, love! Hope you enjoy it. Sorry it got away from me.

Have some Tavrien x Kaidan feels, set in my “I Don’t Mean To” verse. This takes place during the events of ME2 after Horizon. Is spoilery if you haven’t played The Shadow Broker DLC.

Shepard’s Not-So Secret Santa

Everything was different, but should have been the same. It didn’t matter how evidence pointed to the contrary. Two years. She had lost two years…and yet, Tavrien Shepard felt as though no time had passed at all. Despite the obvious missing scars, and advanced cybernetics infused throughout her body, she felt the same. She might be faster and stronger, but she was confused as hell. Her battle prowess, experience and uncanny ability to strategize in any given situation hadn’t failed her; causing those around her to believe that she was the same old Commander Shepard, maybe a medical miracle, but the same nonetheless.

The conversations that swirled around her indicated just how much she had missed, and she fought to remain impassive as her insides screamed at having no idea what was being alluded to. When Cerberus first revived her, she spent most of the night cycle researching important details in a gap the past held. Alternatively, she attempted to hack her way past EDI’s firewall to contact anyone off ship, Anderson, Hackett, but most of all Kaidan. All to no avail. Then she was sent to Horizon and what hopes she held for normalcy crumbled to dust in her outstretched hands.

The man she trusted, the one person who promised her the world, looked at her with such scorn and contempt. Alenko had actually accused her of betraying the Alliance. Him! As if she would ever have faked her own death to join an organization hell-bent only on advancement of themselves. Not the human race, as they claimed, but the sole person in charge of their disturbed cells. Sick and twisted experiments scattered across the galaxy. The universe had an odd sense of humor. She was brought back from the dead to work with the rabid dogs she had sworn to put down.

She was frazzled, utterly exhausted, and a touch paranoid; she had very few friends to confide in. True friends. Not these Cerberus loyalists attempting to gain her confidence. More of The Illusive Man’s lackeys. Tali remained standoffish, unable to reconcile her friend with the person she saw before her. She was starting to come around, but Shepard didn’t know if it would be the same as it was before. Joker still flew the ship, and she knew where his loyalties lay, but he never left his chair, not trusting the AI so integral to the Normandy SR-2. She felt defeated knowing that all their conversations were likely recorded, and played back for The Illusive Tit.

“Shepard,” EDI’s smooth robotic voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Yes, EDI, what is it?”

“I have an important message from Liara T’Soni.”

“And?” she barked at the AI. She was still angry at her once friend. After discovering what part the new Shadow Broker played in Cerberus acquiring her remains, she was finding it hard to trust her. Everything really was different.

“She requests your presence on her base.”

“Tell Joker to set a course for Hagalaz. Inform me when we are close.”

“Commander Shepard, I feel I should remind you, The Illusive Man is expecting you to collect the Reaper IFF. We are, in fact, closer to our initial destination that Hagalaz.”

“EDI, I honestly don’t care. Set a new course.”

“I hear you loud and clear, Commander,” Joker replied, hanging up the line, but not before she heard the continued argument between her pilot and the machine he despised so much.

Tavrien made her way to the desk to check her email. Hoping against hope that Kaidan had contacted her. She had answered his email. The one she left in her inbox and read so often she knew it by heart. It didn’t stop her from feeling foolish when she remembered everything she said and did on Horizon. The way she flung herself into his arms, as if he could set to rights all the wrongs that had happened with one hug. Like he could make all that she had gone through a bad dream. She finally realized she would never wake from this nightmare. At least she found herself outnumbered and about to embark on a suicide mission. Maybe this time it would take.

She stared at his photograph. She didn’t know the person responsible for it being in her personal quarters, and she would likely never thank them, but it was a comfort in times like these. She had believed in karma, once. Had thought that if she lived life respectfully, treaded carefully, treated others with tact, she would have a relatively gratifying life. Instead she was the butt of every cosmic joke. She barely lived through the attack on Elysium, she survived the Battle of the Citadel, but hearing that Kaidan had moved on killed her. Sure she was walking, talking, breathing, fighting the good fight, but she was still a husk.

She sighed, rubbing circles into her temples, and glanced at her console. She really should attempt to rest before she heard Liara’s news. No doubt it would be a difficult meeting, no matter the reason for the request to see her, it was the first since she helped her gain the title of Shadow Broker. She moved to lay on her bed, not bothering with much beside pulling a sheet over her body, praying to any diety listening to grant her one night of dreamless sleep.

Tavrien stood at the airlock, mentally preparing to meet Liara. She hadn’t seen the need to gear up, or bring anyone along. The base would be safe enough or the Asari would have informed her otherwise. Walking the hallways, it was obvious Feron and Liara had been clearing rubble from their fight through the ship. She was obviously taking to her new role well.

“Shepard, I’m glad you came. I was not sure you would come back, even if I asked nicely.” Liara’s gentle voice washed over her. She had been waiting for her to come over the threshold, and Taviren had to admit it was nice that she she found time to meet her at the door. She had been expecting Feron.

“I have discovered that being KIA for two years, and coming back looking younger than ever, is rather unsettling for most old friends.” She smirked, a hint of bitterness seeping through in her tone. “It makes keeping those that will still associate with me a necessity.”

“About that,” Liara glanced at her nervously, ‘you must understand that I will stand by my decision. You were the only one who could save us from the Reaper threat. The universe would be lost without you.”

“Damn it, Liara,” Shepard shouted, rage unchecked, “don’t you hear how crazy that sounds! All the people in the entire galaxy, and nobody else can possibly do anything!”

“Shepard, I apologize. I did not bring you here to ease my conscience. I hope you know that.” Tavrien stood, silent, manicured brow arched, waiting. Realizing that Shepard had nothing to say she sighed and continued, “Kaidan contacted me. I heard about what happened on Horizon, and I’m sorry.”

“What did he want?” she asked impatiently.

“He asked to meet me on the Citadel. I still hold an office there. It helps as a front to go on as much as I ever did.”

“Did you?”

“Yes, I met the Lieutenant.”

“Staff Commander. He was promoted…while I was dead. Just another reminder.”

Liara tentatively reached out, squeezed her hand comfortingly before letting it drop. “Right, anyhow, I met Kaidan. He initially acted out, the way you did when I told him the truth. I told him everything, gave him files to look over. I owed him, and you, that much.”

Shepard looked out the window, stared out into the stars. He knew. He knew for a fact that she hadn’t been lying, and he hadn’t bothered to contact her. Instead of relief, she felt the weight settle more firmly on her shoulders.

“He asked me to deliver something. Well, several things. He asked me to tell you they were from your Secret Santa?” she sounded unsure, probably not aware of human holidays, but wasn’t going to question.

“Please, send them to the ship.” She turned to walk away, and thought better of it. “Liara?” her friend looked up, eyes vulnerable, “It’s good to see you. Once I’ve had more time we will talk, ok?”

“Anytime, Tavrien. You know where to find me.”

She nodded, and retreated back to the SR-2, anticipation and dread filling her stomach.

She found herself at her desk again. This time three carefully wrapped boxes sat in front of her. Two had been mistreated more than the other, but she could see Kaidan’s block print on each tag. Christmas. It had come and gone three times. Twice during her death, and once hardly a month past. He had remembered her for each one. She hugged a package to her chest and cried. She had no idea how much time had past, she was only grateful she had not been disturbed. After the tears dried up, all she felt was numb. The boxes showing just how much he had cared. The grief he had felt, all that he had gone through during the two years she had been dead to the world.

With shaking hands she reached for the most worn box. She unwrapped it delicately. Determined to save the ribbon and the cheerful paper it came in. He had chosen this paper for her, and she would keep it for whatever time she had left. The box held a single, old fashioned skeleton key, and a holograph. She knew the picture instantly, all the time they spent talking about the shore leave they would share in his cabin. They fantasized, they whispered secrets, hopes, dreams, and in the end, would never have the opportunity.

Determined to make it through, she grabbed the next box. It was smaller than the first, her heart pounding after removing the paper to discover a ring box. Fresh tears came unbidden to her eyes as she pried it open. Pillowed in the soft velvet was a solid gold band, but not just any band. Upon closer inspection she found the quote “Moonlight drowns out all but the brightest stars” engraved on the inside. He read the book. She had told him to find it, begged him to read it. She choked on her tears, sobs racking her body. The box was meant for two rings, the twin missing from it’s spot. She didn’t know what it meant, if he kept it or not, but she knew to her core, that he had meant to marry her before Alchera had claimed her. She removed her chain, and slid the ring to rest alongside her dog tags, and tucked them into her shirt near her heart.

The last box sat in front of her, but she set it aside. Choosing instead to open the envelope attached to it.

Tavrien,

I don’t know if you received my email as you haven’t replied. I also wouldn’t put it past Cerberus to keep you from seeing it. This is my best bet, and all I can hope is that Liara didn’t let you down as I did.

I said terrible things to you on Horizon, Shep, and I live with regret everyday. Still, I trust you know that I never could have joined you when you asked. I hate Cerberus with every fiber of my being, but I know that if you had any other options, you wouldn’t be with them now.

Things are desperate with the Alliance, nobody wants to remember the Reapers, and nobody is listening to me about the Collectors. I’m feeling more helpless than ever, and I just found out you are headed to the Omega-4 Relay. I held you in my arms again, changed tune… practically suggesting you might be a clone, then finally realized I should have believed you were real, only to discover you are running headlong into a mission you may not survive.

I am holding out hope for you. Hope that you might return, hope that you might give me a chance to rectify my mistakes, hope that you might still feel the same way I do about you.

Come back to me, Tavrien.

All my love, Kaidan.

Tavrien’s hand covered her mouth, reigning in mournful sounds threatening to tear from her chest. Now, more than ever before, she had to survive. She would survive. Kaidan still loved her. She glanced at the final box, and tucked it into her desk. She made a promise to open it when she defeated the Collectors. She would open it with Kaidan. She would open it, but not until she was back home, where she belonged.

#kaidan alenko #female shepard #mass effect #mass effect fic #shenko #fshenko #tavrien shepard #tavrien shepard x kaidan alenko #me: fic #tavrien x kaidan #i don't mean to oneshot #steph did a thing #steph does holiday prompts #my writing #lechatrouge673

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dearophelia · 7 years

Text

anthem (1/3)

There’s a crack in everything. Olivia’s never asked Zaeed what he means by that, but she wants there to be a hopeful second half to the phrase. Eight months is a long time without Garrus.

or, the one where Liara calls Olivia at the Crucible, Garrus and Hannah get involved with it because I like pain, everything is terrible, and I decided to take 13,000 words to get to the happy ending. Complete, with links to the next sections at the end.

PG, with a story-wide warning for massive angst. Olivia/Garrus, Hannah/Zaeed, Olivia+Liara friendship, Liara+Garrus friendship.

Liara stares out the cockpit window, as if the view is going to change. As if she could blink, and suddenly Earth would turn green and blue again, lush with vibrant cities and beautiful oceans. As if she could blink and all the fires would go out, and the reapers would fall, as if the Citadel’s arms would open.

As if the comms would light up, and she would hear her friend’s voice, her smile clear even through the channel - all done; someone want to come pick me up?

Her view doesn’t change, though their comms do light up. But it isn’t Olivia.

“Nothing’s happening,” Hackett says. “I can’t raise her. See if you can get her, Dr. T’Soni.”

“I will,” she says, her voice far clearer and more confident than she feels. She knows what Hackett is asking of her - to confirm Olivia’s death, or convince her to take just a few more steps when she’s already run so far.

Liara swallows. She silently turns away from the view of fires and the wreckage, walks away from Joker calling after her, walks out of the cockpit and toward the elevator. She doesn’t need her terminal or equipment for this, but she wants more privacy than half the squad’s eyes and ears can allow in the cockpit and CIC.

And if she is going to make this call, and if she is going to convince her best friend to keep going when they all know that the end of this particular road is death, there’s one more person who needs to hear it.

The elevator door closes, and Liara takes a deep breath. She switches to their private comm channel. “Olivia,” she says.

No response.

“Olivia,” she says a little louder, a little more forceful.

The door opens, revealing an empty mess. “Olivia,” she says again, not quite a yell.

A groan. And then, “Liara?”

Liara exhales. She’s alive. Which means that she can still find a way off this road. Liara knows the score, they all do, but right now - right now she wants to hope. “Hey, Liv.”

A sniff and a hiss. “Did the Normandy make it out?”

“Yeah,” she says. “We’re all okay.” Knowing what she’s really asking, Liara manages a small smile. “Garrus is okay.”

James steps out of the medbay, and tilts his head at her. Shepard, she mouths, and leans on one of the tables.

“Did it work?”

“Nothing happened, Liv.” She pulls up the Crucible schematics. She’s been over them with so much detail and so much precision that she could practically draw them blindfolded, and yet she can’t see what else Olivia needs to do.

“Anderson’s dead.” Another hiss. “I’m hurt pretty bad,” she says.

Olivia once went half a mission with a broken arm and didn’t say anything until they were back on the ship. For her to admit that she’s hurt pretty bad…Liara closes her eyes.

“I don’t -” she takes a deep breath. “What do you need me to do?”

Tears spring to Liara’s eyes and she bites her lip. “I need you to get up, Liv.” Her breath shakes. She presses the heels of her palms to her eyes in attempt to stop her tears. It fails.

“I can’t, Liara,” she says, voice thick with pain and her own tears. “It hurts.”

Liara frantically wipes at her cheeks, though new tears immediately replace the ones she brushed away. “I know,” she breathes. “There has to be another panel. I need you to get up off that floor one more time, Olivia. Please.”

A grunt and a wince, and then the sounds of a body slipping against something slick. She huffs sharply, and then just the grunt and the wince again. “Can I talk to Garrus?” she whispers.

“Are you standing up?” Liara asks. Through her tears, a small smile tugs at her lips. “You can’t talk to Garrus if you aren’t standing up.”

“You’re the worst,” Olivia growls, though with an audible smile.

Liara laughs, though her hot tears fall even harder. “I love you, too.”

A few more moments pass filled with the sounds of someone, whose body is beyond broken, trying to stand. “I’m up,” Olivia says. “I promise.”

“I’ll get Garrus,” Liara says, walking toward the medbay. As she passes him, James brushes a hand over her arm - an attempt at comfort. But it’s an umbrella in a hurricane, and doesn’t do much more than remind her that this isn’t some horrible nightmare she’s going to wake up from. She harshly wipes her fingers over her cheeks, trying to look only half as upset as she is.

Garrus looks up, and his face falls when he sees Liara; half as upset as she feels is still visibly awful, she supposes. Olivia, she mouths at him, and points to her ear.

“Liara?”

“Yeah?” Through her tears, she taps at her omnitool bringing Garrus into their channel. She nods at Dr. Chakwas as the woman steps out of her medbay, giving them all a little privacy; she’s far into her own grief, but Liara’s sure she saw the glimmer of a few tears on the doctor’s cheeks.

Olivia takes a sniffly, shaky breath, and then another. “Can you find my mom?”

Liara chokes back a sob and closes her eyes. “Of course.”

“Thanks. I love you.”

Pressing a hand to her forehead, Liara nods. “I love you, Liv. Here’s Garrus.”

She turns, giving the two of them as much privacy as she can, and searches for Hannah’s comm signal. She doesn’t want to make this call, doesn’t want to connect Hannah with the reality that her daughter is probably going to die again, but Olivia asked.

Liara finds Hannah’s signal and switches to another channel, cutting herself off from Olivia telling Garrus something about a promised bathtub.

“Liara?” Hannah’s voice crackles.

Liara sighs in relief. “Are you safe?” she asks. Hannah and Zaeed made it off the Citadel before the reapers took it, but the Orizaba’s signal is broadcasting from Earth.

“Yeah. We’re still in one piece.”

Taking a deep breath, and then another, Liara tries to center herself. “I have Olivia on the line,” she says quietly. “She’s with Crucible, but it isn’t working.”

A slow, steady breath. “Thank you.”

Liara turns back to Garrus, and nods, silently telling him she has Hannah. She waits for his answering nod, and then clicks back into their conversation.

“…will get it, Garrus. I promise.”

His mandibles tighten and he closes his eyes. “I’m holding you to that,” he says gently. “Liv, Liara found your mom.”

“Here she is,” Liara says, and cycles Hannah into the call.

“Mom?” Olivia sobs.

Olivia sounds so small. So scared. Liara’s shoulders shake with the effort of holding back her own sobs. When she hears the low, sad keening coming from Garrus’ chest, the dam breaks entirely. She wraps her arms around herself.

“Hey, Liv,” Hannah says, like it’s just another day, just another phone call.

The only sounds are Olivia’s labored breathing and her broken sobs.

Garrus gestures for Liara to come over. She stands beside his bed, and leans into him when he wraps his arm tight around her shoulders. She settles her arm around his back, holding him close while they listen to Olivia and Hannah.

“I’m really tired,” Olivia says, through her sobs. “Everything hurts.”

“I know, sweetie. But we need you to keep going just a little bit longer. And then,” Hannah’s voice hitches, “then you can take a break.”

Crying, Olivia takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m so sorry. I love you.”

“It’s okay,” Hannah says gently, though her voice is a little strained, like she’s struggling to hold back her tears to sound strong for her daughter. “I’m so proud of you, Olivia. I love you.”

Liara turns and loops both arms around Garrus. He shifts, holding her, too. Their armor is clunky and awkward, but they’re likely listening to the last words of someone they both deeply love. She wants to believe there’s still hope, still a chance that Olivia can survive this - but as soon as she heard the pain in Olivia’s voice, Liara knew the hope was so slim it might as well not exist. Garrus rests his head on her shoulder, and Liara tugs him a little closer.

“If you have to see your dad and Mark - I understand. It’s okay. Tell them I said hi.”

“I will,” Olivia promises through her tears. “Are Liara and Garrus still there?”

“I’m here, Liv,” Liara says.

Garrus lifts his head and takes several deep breaths, settling himself so he doesn’t sound so sad and stricken to her. “So am I.”

“I found a panel,” she says. “I don’t know what it does, but it’s the only one active.” She pauses, a hitch in her breath. “I’m scared,” she admits.

Hannah takes a soft breath. “Good air in, bad air out.”

“Kinda running out of good air up here,” she coughs.

“Then push some buttons and come home. Plenty of good air here.”

Half a laugh through the wheezing and crying. “Yeah. I love all three of you so much. So much.”

“I love you, kid.” Hannah’s voice breaks on kid.

“Shepard…” Garrus stops. “Olivia. I love you,” he says, subvocals steadier than they were a moment ago. He tightens his arm around Liara’s back.

“I love you, Liv.” Liara sniffles. “But if you don’t touch that panel right now - I do not know how, but I will make a bucket of ice water appear above your head.”

Olivia laughs, and it sounds a ragged, rattled. “I’m going,” she promises, and they all listen to the awful, painful noises of Olivia limping and dragging herself across the floor. “Someone needs to feed my fish. And Hipparchus.”

“You got it, Shepard,” Garrus promises.

“I don’t - I don’t know what this does. So if -”

And then nothing. Not static, but silence.

After a few moments, Liara pulls her arm away from Garrus and checks the commlink. SHEPARD, OLIVIA blinks once, twice, and then [OFFLINE] appears next to her name. “She’s off comms,” she says quietly, breaking the silence. She taps at the interface. “I can’t find her to get her back.”

“You two take care of each other,” Hannah says. “She’ll want you both in one piece.”

“Take care of yourself, Hannah. She needs you in one piece, too,” Liara says.

“I love you both,” Hannah says, before signing off.

Both Garrus and Liara take shaky, deep breaths. Garrus slides off the table and pulls Liara into a tight hug. They stand there in the silent and still medbay, quietly holding each other while SHEPARD, OLIVIA [OFFLINE] slowly blinks in the dim emergency lighting, even through the alarm klaxons and panel explosions.

Even as the Normandy flies at top speed out of the Sol system, racing an energy wave and leaving Olivia behind.

***

[link to part two]

#i regret all of my life choices tbh #olivia shepard: responsible coffee commander #otp:one cell in the sea #otf:minored in asskicking #livfic #s:words #s:me #s:2017

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fangzeronos · 7 years

Text

After The End

The war was over. THe Reapers had been destroyed. Most of the Mass Relays were beyond repair, and even if they did start working again, who knew how long it'd be before the next conflict broke out. The crew of the Normandy, led at the moment by Dr. Liara T'soni, stood in front of the rememberance wall in the crew deck, the Asari doctor holding Commander Shepard's plaque in her hands.

She looked at the wall and sighed, closing her eyes and remembering the last conversation she'd had with Shepard. "I love you, Shepard." she'd whispered, standing close to the people she'd formed such a deep bond with over the years. She tightened her hand on the plaque and looked at the wall.

"She isn't dead," she whispered. "I'd know it. Joker, how quickly can you have the Normandy running again?"

"Couple days with everyone's help," Joker said, looking at Liara. "Why?"

"We're going back to Earth," Liara said. "To the site of the Crucible wreckage."

After helping get the ship in working order, the Normandy took off from the lush jungle world they'd landed on after the Relay's exploded, beginning the long journey back to Earth. Several weeks later, the Normandy docked in a slowly rebuilding London, Liara and Garrus leading the way off of the ship. Liara made her way through the docking bay, heading for the head of security.

"Excuse me!" she hollered, catching the head before he walked off. "I'm sorry, I'm looking for some information. What happened to the rubble that was cleared from the Cruicible and Citadel, and where there any survivors?"

"The rubble was cleared off and taken around the world for disposal," the security head said, looking at his omnitool and scrolling through a list of people. "THere was one survivor. Shepard, J. Commander of the Normandy SR-2. She was taken to Westworld Memorial, other side of the city."

"Thank you," Liara said, looking at Garrus. "I knew she was alive, Garrus."

"Then go," the Turian said with a smile. "Move it, Doctor."

Liara nodded, running out and hailing a cab, heading for the hospital. Upon arriving, she demanded to know where SHepard's room was, but was turned away. Getting angry, Liara slammed her hand down on the desk hard enough that it made the hallway fall silent.

"LIsten to me, you little bitch," the Asari doctor snarled, grabbing the nurse by the scrubs and getting in her face. "You tell me where Jane Shepard, Commander of the Normandy SR-2, and the WOMAN THAT SAVED THE DAMNED UNIVERSE is or I will rip you apart one molecule at a time until I'm told!"

"Floor eighteen! Room thirty-seven!" the nurse finally admitted, getting dropped down into her chair again.

"Thank you," Liara said, running down to catch the elevator. She hit the button for the eighteenth floor, tapping her fist nervously against the wall as she waited for the elevator to reach the room. After what felt like an eternity--not an easy feat for an Asari--the elevator finally dinged and Liara stepped out, jogging down the hall. "Commander Shepard's room, please." She got directed to the room, walking down the hall and rubbing her arms before she knocked on the door, seeing Shepard sleeping. She walked over and sat beside the bed, reaching out and taking her hand. "You asshole...don't ever do that again..."

Shepard opened her eyes softly, having felt Liara's hand in hers. "Love you too, Liara," she whispered, blinking away the blurry vision and smiling softly. She sat up softly, adjusting the pillow to be behind her back. "They took the breathing tube out a week ago. Still won't let me leave. Say I'm not ready yet. Bullshit. I feel fine."

"Shepard, you had the Crucible fall on top of you. There was a dead Reaper on top of it," Liara said. She sighed softly, looking at Shepard. "What happened? After you sent Javik and me onto the ship. When the explosion happened."

Shepard sighed, looking out of the window. "When the explosion happened, I got knocked back pretty hard. Everything hurt. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to just limp my ass forward. I could barely lift my gun. I made it to the beam...wound up on the Citadel. Anderson was there in a different part and we met up near the console. I tried to activate it but at the time it wasn't working. The Illusive Man came in, started rambling about how the Reapers were going to save everything, how he was going to control them. But....he was different. Remember how when we were caught in the archive vault Brooks said he was Indoctrinated? I didn't want to believe it at the time but she was right. He was starting to look like a Husk," she said. She looked back at Liara and leaned her head back. "To prove a point, i guess, he ended up shooting Anderson in the stomach. I managed to convince him to focus on what he was doing, and when he saw what was going on, he shot himself in the head. I wanted to do that." She stopped talking, her hands clenched.

"Shepard," Liara whispered, putting her hand on Shepard's. "What happened next?"

Shepard sighed and looked at Liara. "Anderson died. I was talking to him and next thing I know he's not answering me anymore. I checked for a pulse and he wasn't there anymore. I forced myself up, trying to find a way to activate the Crucible but it didn't start. Next thing I knew I was in a room with three options for how to end the war with this little shit of a hologram that took the look of a kid I couldn't save when the first Reaper hit Earth. He said I had to choose. Destroy the Reapers and synthetics, Control them, or Sythesize organics and synthetics," she said. She bit her lip and sighed softly, staring down again. "I limped my ass to the far side where I could destroy them. I knew that...by choosing that option I was also killing EDI, and God did that thought hurt. I thought about turning around so many times and going to one of the other platforms. But then I thought of everyone that's been killed by those things and everything else in the last years. The Protheans, Thessia, Zaeed, Jack, the Geth, Legion, the Rachni, Mordin...I started shooting the console, knowing it was the only way to stop everything. When it exploded, the blast sent me flying. I don't remember anything that happened after that until I woke up under the rubble."

Liara nodded softly. "When the Crucible was destroyed by the blast, Joker pushed the Normandy as hard as he could to outrun the blast that was destroying all of the Relays. We ended up on a jungle planet. Shepard, it was beautiful. We didn't know about EDI until after going back inside and starting to clean up. Tali found her under some broken beams and part of the Galaxy Map console in the CIC," she said.

"He'll probably hate me after I explain this," Shepard said.

"I don't think he will," Liara said. "He's been with you the longest, hasn't he? If you explain what happened, he'll understand, Shepard."

A week later, Shepard was released from the hospital and went right back to the Normandy where she got swarmed by nearly everyone in one shot, Tali and Garrus being the foremost of the crowd. After recounting the story for everyone in one shot around the table in the mess hall, Shepard watched Joker walk out, feeling her heart sink into her stomach. She got up and walked after him, catching him in the observation deck.

"Joker?" she asked.

"Did you even think about how doing that would effect us around here, Shepard? How it'd feel to lose EDI? Christ, she was our friend. She might have been Cerberus, but she was still part of the Normandy and part of the crew," Joker said, looking at Shepard over his shoulder. "If it had have been me, I wouldn't have caused you to lose the person you'd loved, Shepard."

"Joker--"

"Save it. Just leave me alone," Joker said, staring out at the city.

Shepard nodded softly, walking out and heading to hte elevator, going up to the Captain's Cabin and shutting the door, sitting on her bed. She looked over at a picture on the table beside the bed, picking it up and sighing softly. "The last time we were all together," she muttered. "After the bullshit with my clone...Goddamn it!" She flung the picture and started throwing whatever she could, shattering the glass on her desk and overturning the bed before she finally sank to the floor, her hands shaking.

Liara sighed as she walked into Shepard's room, seeing the mess around the room, Shepard sitting against the empty fish tank with cut and bloody hands and looking depressed and angry all at once. "Come on," she said, walking over and taking Shepard's hands, standing her up. She led Shepard out of the room and back downstairs, heading for her room near the main battery. "Tomorrow, we're leaving. You need to get away, and you can't distance yourself from this by sitting on the Normandy." She pushed Shepard down onto her bed lightly, grabbing a medigel and applying it to Shepard's hands, sitting beside her girlfriend. "Just give it time. PLease?"

Shepard nodded, sighing as she leaned against Liara. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"You don't have to apologize for anything," Liara whispered, wrapping her arms around Shepard and kissing her cheek softly. "You did what you thought was right, Shepard. Please don't apologize." _________________________

As time went on, Shepard slowly started forgetting about the Reapers and the war as most people on the streets stopped coming up to her and wanting details and information all the time. As everyone moved on with their now war-less lives, Shepard and Liara settled down on Thessia to try and live semi-normal lives.

She walked out of the house and leaned against the wall, watching the sun rising over the city. Shepard sighed to herself as she folded her arms, smiling a bit. "It's peaceful. I like that," she said. "Now if only I didn't have to go in and work today."

"You could always say you're sick and stay home," Liara said as she walked up behind Shepard, wrapping her arms around her wife's waist, resting her chin on her shoulder. "Besides, I thought I tired you out last night?"

Shepard laughed softly, putting her hand on Liara's. "You did. But as much as I'd rather stay home today, I can't. I've got that class on weapon handling at the Academy, remember? And you've got to go in and finish working on the updates for Glyph to get that line ready for shipping, remember?"

"You take the fun out of life," Liara said with a smile, kissing Shepard softly. "But I love you anyway. Don't forget that we're going to the cliffs tonight for the meteor shower."

"I didn't forget," Shepard said with a smile. "And next week we're going to Rannoch for Tali and Garrus' wedding."

"I'm looking forward to it," Liara said. "Come on, Shepard. Let's start our day right."

"What, one more romp before we have to go to work?" Shepard asked with a smirk.

"Perhaps," Liara said, pulling away from Shepard and walking back into the house with a grin on her face.

"You'll be the death of me," Shepard laughed, walking back in and shutting the door.

Shepard knew that the nightmares would stop and the war would be forgotten. She just had to keep looking on the brightside of things and hope for the best as time went on, and with Liara at her side, she knew it'd be easier to do.

#Mass Effect #Commander Shepard #Dr. Liara T'soni #FemShep #Been working on this one for a while #the ending's cheesy as fuck but I don't care

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