#thought he would be safe by getting off the normandy and trying to go straight

[sifinspace]

Sif wanted to hurl. This was not how she planned her departure to go. She wasn’t even sure why she was leaving, but after the way he responded she thought it was the right idea.

Joker had come back to the helm after 10 minutes walking around with Shepard. He assured her he’d be fine for the Vermire mission and was ready to talk once the ground crew had touched base.

Sif’s stomach turned multiple times over the fact that she had hurt her best friend, and nothing she could say would help make it right quickly.

She should have talked to him, but Kaiden needed the answer. He needed it to get through these next missions. She could feel her face flush.

She was ashamed - but also happy she was going to have a new life.

Kaiden, Shepard and Ashley all left the shuttle and began their trek through Vermire.

Joker and Sif only had basic communication from them, but all sounded well and fine.

There were Geth everywhere, but they kept the Normandy just far enough away to be secure.

Sif and Joker sat insilence. Jeff being angry was harder than expected for her to handle.

As the hours ticked away, Sif grew more and more tense. She got up and did a few stretches. Her back was so tight from anxiety, her jaw clenched.

They just got word the crew had met up with a bunch of Salarian infantry there for the same purpose. They had planned to help Shepard and his team get the bomb to where it needed to be.

Sif liked the Salarians, they were straight to the point, and intelligent. She had drinks one night with a few when she was on shore leave. Interesting creatures.

Joker turned to her. “Ok, we need to be on alert, Sarren is here.”

Sif nodded and sat back in her seat. She took a drink of cold water and put her head set on. Anything could happen at this point. Shepard even left the coms open for them to listen.

They had split into two teams, Ashely went with the Salarians to protect the front while Kaiden and Shepard went in deep and started to activate the bomb that would help destroy the Geth transponder.

Sif didn’t like this. She had a bad feeling, or she was still ill from when Jeff yelled at her. The memories that flooded her mind when he did that hurt more than anyone ever knew.

Jeff knew. She knew he knew.

Rushed words came over the coms. Shepard was trying to make a decision. One that seemed to involve his two companions.

“Look you don’t have a choice. Leave me, save Ash.” Kaidens voice said.

“There’s always a choice.” Shepard responded.

“I’m overwhelmed here, someone tell me what to do.” Ash shouted into the com.

The line went silent.

“Do it Shepard. Go save Ash.”

“Kaiden.”

“Go!”

“Joker - Sif prepare of extraction. Go to Williams location. I’ll meet you there.”

“There could be time to get Alenko!” Ashley shouted.

“No, keep them busy for five minutes, itlll give us enough time to…” kaidens voice was cut off.

“Alright, extraction in progress.” Joker replied.

Sifs grip tightened on her chair arm. Relief, sadness, anger all wafted over her body.

“Extraction complete.” Sif gave Joker a thumbs up.

“Thanks.” He replied.

Shepards voice came through if he the coms. “There’s no time for Alenko, get us out of here.”

The last breaths of a man left to death rang over the coms. No words, just the agonizing sound of a man drowning in his own blood.

Joker shut off the com to Sifs headset.

She was relieved.

They made their way back to safe space and everyone was gathered into the briefing room.

Sif sat still in her chair while Joker got up to leave. “You coming?”

She was frozen in thought. She just heard the dying breaths of someone she had made plans with. Someone she just started to want to love. She couldn’t move.

Joker put his hand in her arm. “I’ll fill you in.”

Sif didn’t flinch. She sat there with her vision focused on her monitors and her brain running full steam.

‘I should be angry. I should be devastated.’ She closed her eyes allowing them to moisten. ‘I’m relieved. I…. Didn’t really want to abandon the Normandy or crew.’ She let out a long shallow breath. ‘I should have had slept with him. Just once. I’m a horrible person. He trusted me he believed it would happen. He really thought we’d go to earth. Now he’s gone. His dying breaths will live forever in my mind.’

The bitter sweet of Kaidens death was too much for her to bear. She remained frozen in her state of shock until Joker returned.

“You alright?” He asked, not knowing how to come back from being a complete asshole.

She didn’t move.

“Sif, come with me.” Shepard said as he walked into the helm.

She didn’t move.

“I think she’s in shock.” Joker responded for her.

Shepard crouched beside Sifs chair and placed his hand on hers. His hand wound around her fingers and Joker shifted uncomfortably from side to side.

“I’m going to take you to your cabin. You need a bit to unravel what just happened.” He said in a way she’d never heard him speak before.

Slowly she turned to look at Shepard. Their eyes met.

“I’m okay.” She quietly said.

“You’re not okay Sif, you haven’t moved in an hour.” Shepard said.

“Has it been that long?” She asked.

“It’s been that long.” Joker said.

Sif slowly turned and got out of her chair. Shepards fingers still clasped around her hand. She walked three steps led by Shepard and turned to look at Joker.

“Happy?” She said.

She turned and continued to allow the Commander to escort her back to her cabin.

————

‘I am the biggest asshole.’ Joker screamed in his mind. ‘I can’t do anything right. Fuck!’

He sat in his seat, frustrated by his anger toward Sif, and his reaction. He didn’t have to do that. He scared her he actually scared her.

‘I lost my cool. Shepard walked in, I - I can’t believe I embarrassed her like that.’ He slammed his fist into the arm of his chair.

‘Then Kaiden goes and dies all in the same breath. And I become to real ass.’ He leaned his head back. ‘This is all a bad dream. Kaiden died, but I never yelled at the one woman who was just trying to maneuver some love in her life. No I wouldn’t do that…. Shit. I did.’

The realization that he blew up made the sting even greater.

The worse part was realizing Kaiden gave his life willingly. Almost as if he knew he had no future.

“Shit.”

——-

“Go see her.” Shepard ordered Joker.

“After what I did?”

“Especially after what you did.” He said squarely.

Joker got up and walked to his cabin. They had recently docked at the Citadel and this was his chance to make things right.

The door opened and Sif was sitting on her side facing the bathroom with her head down.

He didn’t know how to being, so he went over and sat next to her. He noticed she was holding something. A bottle of whiskey it looked like.

“Hey…” he said quietly.

She still didn’t respond. She handed him the note that was in her other hand.

Joker took it and read it carefully.

‘Sif, if I don’t make it back, this is for you. I was saving it for something special. Thanks for everything you’ve given me, especially hope. I know things probably wouldn’t have worked out how we’d planned, but to pretend for a bit was fun.

Don’t miss me too much when I’m gone. Just once in a while, imagine what it would have been like to live in the mountains with me, and how we’d have had the cutest kids. You would have made an amazing mom.

Make sure Joker treats you well, and don’t let anyone tell you you’re not worth it, cause you are.

Forget me not,

Love

Kaiden’

“He knew he wasn’t coming back?” Joker asked.

“He had a feeling.” She said.

“So you…”

“I agreed to go back to earth with him, to help motivate him to live. I agreed to go, because for a minute, I felt like it was a good idea. Because I wanted to be wanted. I wish you’d have let me explain.” She quietly whispered.

Joker felt like he had been gut punched. He really was an asshole. “You’re right. I’m sorry I freaked out.”

“I’ve never been scared of you. Ever. Till today.”

“I know, that I’m most sorry for.” He put his arm around her shoulder.

She flinched.

“I didn’t realize you’d get so upset with me about something like this.” She muttered.

“I don’t know what happened. I guess it was shocking and I lost it. It was stupid. I yelled at you. I felt like an idiot afterwards.”

“I sure hope so.”

“I will never do that to you again. I made a promise to never do that and I broke it. I’m no better than…” his voice trailed off.

“You are. You just, had a moment.” She said fiddling with the label on the bottle.

“”Why are you always so nice to me? Why?”

“Because I love you Jeff, you know that. You don’t hold shit against someone when you love them.”

This made him feel even worse.

“I’m so sorry. Then I opened my big mouth to Shepard. Seriously you shouldn’t be my friend.”

The pair sat there in silence for a while. Sif put her head on Jeff’s shoulder and he held her tight to him.

“I am relieved you know. I didn’t really want to leave the Normandy, Shepard, or you. Does that make me terrible?”

“Nah, Kaiden was the best of them. I should have been happy you found someone to make your dreams come true.”

“But it felt wrong. Not the entire time, but agreeing to leave. It didn’t sit right.”

“I’m glad. I ……” he trailed off.

“Glad?”

“I didn’t want you to want to leave. It would have made my life boring. I don’t have time to find another co-pilot I actually like.” He grinned.

“True, you’re not easy to get along with.”

“Yea you’re not wrong.”

They continued to sit in the dim light of space, Jeff rested his head on Sif’s.

“Don’t think I’m not devastated.” She said.

“I think you’re sad that’s for sure.”

“He was my friend. When you said you’d come spend time with me, and never did, Kaiden was always there.”

Jeff knew she was right, he never prioritized her.

“How long had you two been spending time together before he made his first move?” He asked.

“Since the day he was assigned to the Normandy. I’d spent time down in the mess with him, or in the cargo bay. Watching the stars, drinking, playing cards or something. He always was company. When Tali and Garrus joined up, they joined in the games too. They felt bad you never ended up spending time with me like you’d always promise you would.”

“I didn’t realize people noticed.” He said slightly embarrassed.

“Yea. Kaiden wasn’t just a guy who I hung out with once, we spent nearly every evening together.”

“I’m….I’m so sorry. You two were really close.”

“Yea, and just like that, he’s gone. I’ll be okay, I’ll call his mom and send his belongings home.”

“Here.” Jeff handed her an ear bud. “Put this in for a sec and give me your Omni tool.”

Jeff punched a few buttons on her wrist and static shot through her brain.

‘Sif, … Sif, tell her, I love her.’ Kaidens shallow voice bled out.

She gasped.

Jeff hit save.

Then she started to cry.

Jeff held her closer to him as time ticked away. It always seemed like it did when they had to be somewhere else. As if they never got enough time to be together to just enjoy being beside one another.

“Joker, time to go.” Shepards voice came in over the coms.

“Right, we’ll be there in a second.” He turned to Sif. “You gonna be okay?”

“Yea let’s get this over with.”

#commander shepard #mass effect #mass effect legendary edition #jeff moreau #joker mass effect #fanfic #fanfiction #mass effect fandom #mass effect fanfiction #slow burn romance

[baejax-the-great]

ME1 Garrus is like, "Oh wow, I can't believe we stole a space ship. That's a crime. Shepard, we did a crime together. My heart has never beat this fast in my life. Can hearts even go this fast? Wait, am I sexy now? I feel like I'm suddenly incredibly sexy. Does crime always feel like this?"

But Shepard had walked off halfway through his monologue and missed it and that's why finding him on Omega was a surprise to no one but Shepard

#the man got one hit of crime and he was hooked #thought he would be safe by getting off the normandy and trying to go straight #but he could only think of that first thrill #that first rush of his first crime #garrus vakarian #Shepard: what is the most straight laced rules loving goober I know doing running a gang on omega #Shepard: anyway wanna join a terrorist org #Garrus: I h ave never been more turned on in my life

[summahsunlight]

Worth the Risk, Part 13

Rating: Mature(18+only)

Word Count: 2120

Pairing: Army Pilot!Poe Dameron x Nurse!Reader (1940s AU)

Summary: It’s the 1940s, Army pilot and Captain Poe Dameron is flying on missions for the United States Army in Europe.  After being shot down off the coast of France, Poe wakes up in an Army hospital in England, to find you, a nurse, taking care of him. Throughout the process of his recovery, Poe finds himself falling for you, and even though you, for the most part, maintain a professional relationship with him–you’re falling for him as well. Both of you know the risks of falling in love during a war, but then again, both of you have never cared much for being cautious.

Warnings: Angst, gunshot wound, blood (nothing graphic)

Start from the beginning!

Taglist: @fanfic-addict-98​, @thescarletknight2014​, @blushingwueen​, @americasassromanoff, @ginger-swag-rapunzel​, @spider-starry​, @totelpoedameron, @captain-america5, @liadamerondjarin​, @m1rkw00dpr1ncess​, @paintballkid711​, @justanotherblonde23​, @castiel-barnes​, @itspdameronthings​

If you like to be added to the taglist just let me know. This series is winding down and I only see it having a few more parts. I hope you are still enjoying it! Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated!🥰❤️

There had been very little time to breathe since the Army had marched into Paris. They were continuing their push to Germany, which meant endless bombing runs for Poe and Iolo. Endless bombing runs meant very little sleep and living in leaky tents in the woods--Poe had lost more crew than he could ever have imagined in his worst nightmares during this time and the Army granted his squadron a 48 hour leave. Immediately he went to work on finding a way to Paris, on a finding a way to spend as much of that leave with you before he was inevitably back in the air being shot at.

He sat, slumped in his seat on the train, reading over your latest letter. You had spent a lot of time with freed prisoners and your heart was breaking it smaller and smaller pieces each day. Poe wished he could have made it back to Paris sooner to hold you; he could feel your pain in every stroke of your flawless handwriting.

By the time the train arrived in Paris, Poe had read your letters over three times. Tucking them into his rucksack, he slung the bag over his shoulder and made his way off the train. He knew that you would be waiting for him on the platform but when he laid his eyes on you for the first time in months, he couldn't help but smile.

"Poe!" you cried, waving wildly, your smile just as wide as his.

Moving through the crowd, Poe made his way to you, dropping his rucksack at your feet, cupping your face between his hands and kissing you.

You eagerly returned his kiss, wrapping your warms around his neck and melting into his solid form. When you pulled away from his warm lips, you sighed, "I missed you."

He stroked your cheeks with his thumbs and gazed at you with loving eyes. "I missed you, too, sweetheart."

"I wish you had more time to stay in Paris."

"I know; me too. We just have to make the most of it."

Sighing, you rested your forehead against his. With some luck in a few months you would be together back home in America, planning your wedding, meeting each other's families--the war nothing but a distant memory. "Are you hungry? There's a small little cafe near my apartment. By the way, Jess can't wait to see you."

Poe chuckled and pulled away. He reached down and picked his bag up in one hand, and grasped yours in the other. "She just wants to ask me questions about the new recruits, you know if they're cute and available."

You laughed while you walked out of the train station. "That's not all true," you argued with him. "She likes you too."

"Not as much as that sergeant from North Dakota."

"Well, yeah, she can't kiss you but she can kiss him."

"You're the only I want to kiss, sweetheart."

"Smart answer."

He gave your hand a squeeze and laughed. He'd missed you so much over the last several weeks and he wasn't sure when he would be able to see you again--already Poe's heart was breaking thinking about having to leave Paris in two days.

You were just as heartbroken at the same thought--but you did your best to hide your sadness from Poe. Neither of you talked about the war, or your impending separation for the rest of the afternoon, that is until Poe leaned back in his seat at the cafe and sighed, heavily. "Something wrong?" you questioned, sipping your coffee.

Poe ran his tongue over his lips, his fingers lazily tracing the rim of his own coffee mug. "When the Army marched into Paris over the summer, I thought it would be over. Maybe I just hoped it would be over."

There was an overwhelming feeling of sadness in his voice. You knew that he had suffered tremendous losses since the Allies had taken Paris back. For a man like Poe, with his big heart, you knew that each loss cut deep. "Darling, there was nothing wrong in hoping."

"I know, I just--I've been away from home for so long now."

"Are you afraid your dad will forget what you look like?"

"No--but my dad is getting up in age--he needs help on the ranch."

"I'm sure he's managing without you for now."

Poe frowned. "I'm worried about him, y/n."

You took a deep breath. "Why?"

He looked at you, sadly. "The anniversary of my mother's death is in a few weeks. My dad...he never really got over my mom...I just worry that he's lonely."

Reaching out you gently placed your hand over his. "Maybe this will be the last anniversary of your mother's passing that you'll miss. Maybe next year, you'll be home on the ranch."

"I hope so," Poe mumbled, running his thumb over your knuckles.

"When was the last time your wrote to your dad?" you asked, softly.

"Right before Normandy."

"Poe, that was months ago."

"There hasn't been time."

"You've found the time to write to me."

Poe looked at you, guilty. "You're easier to write too than my dad. You know what it's like to be in the thick of this war--I don't want to worry my dad too much."

Gently you shook your head. "Poe, your dad is a war veteran himself--I'm sure he knows exactly what is going on. Not writing to him is going to make him worry even more about you if you ask me."

He looked wounded. "You really know how to make a guy feel better, ya know that?"

Smiling, you looked him straight in the eye. "I'm just being honest with you."

"I know--and you're right--I need to get in touch with him."

"Promise you'll write to him before you leave Paris?"

"Yes, I promise."

"Good. I'll even make sure it gets in the mail for you."

Kissing your hand, he thanked you. Poe briefly wondered how he had survived without you--and if he had never been shot down, he may never have met you. He might have already passed his mother's ring onto you--under the guise of safe keeping--but he couldn't wait for the war to be over so he could properly ask you to marry him. "Shall we get out of here, darling?"

You smiled coyly at him, knowing exactly what was on his mind. "And go where, Captain?"

Poe sighed, lightly. "Oh, maybe a walk along the river....back to your room..."

"Let's go then," you said, standing up.

"Let's go," he echoed, tossing some money on the table and following you wherever you were going to lead him.

-----

Forty-eight hours went by way too fast for either of your likening, and after a tear filled good-bye, Poe found himself back with the Army. He felt more exhausted then ever with the cold weather moving in. He did hold true to his promise and wrote a letter to his dad, he even hand delivered a letter from Jess to the sergeant from North Dakota. Poe could never remember his name but he seemed excited to receive the letter.

Iolo grinned at him. "Look at you, playing cupid."

Poe rolled his eyes and pulled his coat closer to his body. "I didn't miss your shit for the last two days, Arana."

"Sure. That's fair. You were with your lady."

"What did you do?"

"Me? Found a nice village, got drunk, kissed a few French girls."

"A few?"

"Hey, I'm not attached so I'm not picky."

Laughing, Poe turned towards the tent he was sharing with his wingman and best friend. After Snap's death, the pair had become closer, looking out for each other as best they could--being there for each other after each and every loss. Poe felt grateful that he had a friend like Iolo--he didn't know what he'd do if he was facing the horrors of war each day alone.

Iolo was going on about something or another as they walked; Poe was so engrossed in what his friend was saying that he felt the gunshot before he heard it. The bullet tore through his upper left arm, burning, and Arana shouted, "Captain!"

Poe clutched at the fresh wound, blood seeping through his fingers and Iolo pulled him to safety as the ground troops sprinted into action trying to find where the shooter was hiding. "Fuck!" Poe cursed when he finally saw the blood on his hands, the pain coursing through his body.

"Easy, Poe," Iolo said, waving down a medic. "Looks like a flesh wound--you should live."

"Great, just great. It still fucking hurts!" Poe snapped at him. His face went white. "Don't tell her, Arana, please don't tell, y/n."

"You want me to lie to your girlfriend?"

"Yes! She doesn't need to know if I'm gonna live!"

"She's gonna know when she sees the scar!"

"And I'll tell her the story then!"

Iolo rolled his eyes as the medic joined him. "Ya might want to check his skull after you finish with that arm--he's talking batshit crazy."

Poe wanted to punch him but his arm hurt too damn much. He just didn't want you to worry about something as unnecessary as a flesh wound. "Can you hit him for me?" he begged the medic tending to his arm.

The medic looked anxiously between the two pilots. He was fresh on the field so clearly, he didn't understand their antics. "Sir... I'm just here to treat your arm. You'll...you'll...have to settle your differences with the Lieutenant on your own terms."

"In other words--he'd rather not get involved," Iolo chuckled. "It's cute he thinks we have some kind of beef with one another."

"Don't worry, once my arm is patched, I'm gonna punch you," Poe countered, curtly, to which Iolo responded with laughter. "I'm serious Arana!"

"Sure, sure, you're gonna punch me with your non-dominant arm."

"Fuck! Come on, man, just do it for me!"

The medic finished up dressing Poe's wound and quickly moved on to help the next guy. Iolo reached out and pat his friend on the shoulder. "Fuck Poe, don't scare me like that again," the other pilot whispered, seriously. "We've been through hell but I'm not sure I'm ready to lose another man I consider a brother."

Poe sighed and squeezed his eyes shut. He knew that if the bullet was in centimeters in a certain direction he'd be dead. "I know," he responded, all the venom from earlier gone from his voice. "But I'm serious, please don't tell her. She worries enough as it is."

"Don't worry," Iolo said, firmly, "your secret is safe with me."

"Thanks buddy," Poe whispered, opening his eyes. "I owe you one."

"She's gonna find out, ya know."

"Yeah... yeah I know. I'll deal with it then."

Iolo frowned at him and helped him to his feet. Quietly, the two friends walked back to their tent and didn't speak about the gunshot wound in Poe's arm again.

------

You did find out--from North Dakota boy when he came to visit Jess.

He'd casually talked about as if you and Jess knew it had happened. It wasn't until he saw your eyes go wide and Jess' mouth fall open in shock that he was aware he'd let the secret out. Poe was probably going to beat his ass when he got back to camp for this...

...you excused yourself and found a small closet in the hospital to shut yourself away in and have a good cry.

After the day you'd had, nursing freed German prisoners back to health, holding their hands while the fate of their loved ones was either dealt to them or still kept a mystery, and crying at their bedside as they took their last breath. In between all that you were still expected to perform your duty as a lieutenant and care for the wounded soldiers.

It was clear why Poe hadn't told you he'd been shot--he knew the fragile state you were living in, but was this better? Finding out this way, from Jess' new boyfriend?

"Lieutenant?" Jess called on the other side of the door. "Are you okay?"

No! "I'm....fine...I just need a moment," you replied, wiping your eyes on the back of your hand. "I'll...be out soon."

You heard footsteps fading away and knew she had left you alone. If you could, you would have stayed in that closet all day--but the airhorn went off, signaling incoming wounded. Dusting yourself off, you got to your feet, and went to work. There was still a war going on after all.

#my writing #star wars imagine #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron x reader #WW2 AU #100 followers celebration #worth the risk

[stillbandofbrothersthirsty]

As Far As Friends Go

This was kind of a transition chapter so cred’s to the show for the dialogue I used. But buckle up, shits really gonna go down next chapter.

Chapter 14 (Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3; Chapter 4; Chapter 5; Chapter 6; Chapter 7; Chapter 8; Chapter 9; Chapter 10; Chapter 11; Chapter 12; Chapter 13)

Nixon - June 1944

The drop into Normandy was perilous. Just as Nixon had feared, nothing seemed to go as planned. It was as if the Germans were waiting for them to arrive based off of how much fire they experienced. Nixon, like most of the men, missed his drop zone but he was lucky enough to quickly link up with Battalion headquarters. It was a chaotic couple of first days in France as the airborne got situated in relation to the troops on the beach. Early into their arrival, Winters and the available Easy Company men took down some German guns. This not only saved a number of lives on the beaches but produced a map detailing German artillery positions. Looking at it, Nixon realized how important it could be. It couldn’t wait, so he decided to run to Utah beach to hand the map over to the higher ups who could do something with it. The run to Utah was only three miles, no worse than he had experienced during training. He was grateful though that Command decided to send the first two tanks that landed in to aid the 101st, thus providing Nixon with a ride.

He greeted Winters with a cheeky smile when he returned to the assembly area. “Going my way?”

Winters tossed his gun up for Nixon to catch, “sure.”

The men bunkered down for the night, scrounging for what food and beds they could find. The Battalion was on the move by June 8th on their way to take Carentan. As according to plan, the 101st forced passage into Carentan on June 10th and 11th. The days were hot and muggy, barely cooling down at night for the men dressed in heavy uniforms and equipment. Bugs were everywhere and exhaustion was setting in. Finally, they encountered the Germans. On June 12th the German’s were forced to withdraw and it seemed like victory was theirs. But Nixon was suspicious. Surely the Germans wouldn’t give up such an important position so easily; and he was right. On June 13th the 17th SS PzG Division counter-attacked. Thankfully, the U.S. 2nd Armored Division came in for support.

When Nixon returned to Battalion headquarters with news of their victory he found that Emily had finally arrived.

“Emily!” he wanted nothing more than to hug her in that moment. The last week had been exhausting. It was such a comfort to see her.

“Miss me?” she grinned up at him. Her smile was like a shot of morphine, he immediately felt his muscles relax. “You look a mess,” she shook her head.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, we’ve only been taking Carentan.”

“Congratulations,” she said, “did you like the tanks I sent you?”

Nixon looked at her flabbergasted. Then slowly, through the haze of his fatigue, he realized she was messing with him. “Ha ha. It would’ve been impressive if you had.”

“Yeah I wish, unfortunately I’m not that powerful yet.”

Nixon slung his arm around her neck, “no but I bet you know where to find me some food.”

Despite his exhaustion, Nixon didn’t sleep well those final weeks in Normandy. Instead, his alcohol intake increased. He had to re-fill his flask every day, sometimes topping it off throughout the day. He would need to replenish his stores soon. But no one anticipated how long they would actually be fighting in Normandy. In fact, the 101st had expected to be relieved much sooner. Strayer kept asking for patrols as the allies attempted to inch their way closer and closer to Germany.

Twenty-five days after D-Day Nixon was sent out on a patrol with Harry Welsh. It was a reconnaissance mission so Nixon was required to go. What they were looking for he wasn’t sure. The regiment had exhausted their knowledge of the German’s position in the area so any new piece of information could serve as an advantage.

Nixon peered through a pair of binoculars from where he and Welsh sat in the brush approximately 100 yards from a run down building. “We need to know what’s in there,” Nixon said.

“I don’t know who the hell to send,” Welsh said.


“Ask for volunteers.”

“I hate asking for volunteers.”

Nixon gave Welsh a pointed look, “then pick them.”

Blithe, Martin, and Dukeman moved in towards the abandoned manor. The rest of the paratroopers sat hidden in the grass behind Nixon. As they waited for Blithe and the others to get into position Nixon spotted something poking out of Welsh’s backpack.


“Harry, what exactly are you doing with your reserve chute? You been hauling that thing around since we jumped?”

Welsh sucked his teeth, slightly embarrassed he said, “gonna send it to Kitty when we get back to England. Silk, figure it’ll make a good wedding dress, ya know, what with the rationing and all.”

Nixon broke view of where the trio was moving in towards the manor to laugh at Welsh, “jeez Harry, I never would’ve guessed.”

“What? That I’m so sentimental?”

“No, that you think we’re going to make it back to England.” Nixon peered through his binoculars again. His mind flashed to Emily as he watched the men crouch down behind an upturned cart. Bad news, he thought. He had suspected for a while now that Emily may have feelings for Welsh, a man who clearly was intending on marrying his betrothed. No matter how much he flirted, Welsh wouldn’t have bothered lugging that extra chute around if he wasn’t serious about Kitty. Bad news for Emily. Suddenly, a shot rang out.

“Covering fire! Covering fire!” Welsh shouted. Martin and Dukeman pulled a downed Blithe back behind the line. They passed Nixon who saw the blood gushing from the young man’s throat before Doc Roe got to him.

“Cease fire! Cease fire!” Welsh commanded.

Winters moved up from behind, “what happened?”

“Sniper,” Nixon said coming up to him.

Winters couldn’t take his eyes off the bleeding Blithe, “they’re pulling us off the front line.”

“Now?” Nixon demanded.

Winters turned to him, “to a field camp north of Utah beach. Hot food, and showers.”

With a last mournful look at Blithe, Nixon turned away to head back. Great fucking timing, he raged to himself.

Emily was at the camp surrounded by intelligence staff and nurses, who were busy at work tending the masses of wounded men.


“Nix?” her voice was gentle when he entered the intelligence tent.

“Couldn’t have let us know a little bit sooner? Sent the runner just a few minutes earlier?” he demanded.



“What are you talking about?”

“We were on a patrol and some kid is probably gonna lose his life because that information came a few minutes too late! I sent them in there, I told them to check it out but turns out we didn’t need to!” Nixon pounded his fist on one of the tables.

“Lewis I didn’t know, that information didn’t come from me.”

“You’re intelligence staff! You’re meant to know!”

“I’m not intelligence staff like you are! I’m no S-2,” Emily shouted back, “no one tells me anything!”

Nixon paced the room trying to calm down, “okay, okay,” he leveled his hands on the desk, “I’m sorry. I just -,”

“It’s fine, I’m sorry too,” Emily stood across the table from him, looking small in the dim light of the tent. “I do know one thing,” she said. He looked up, waiting for her to continue, “we’re going back to England.”

“Right, great.” And he stormed out of the tent onto the beach.

His insomnia didn’t improve even knowing that they were going back to a relatively safe zone. It was impossible to sleep with the sounds of men crying out all around and bodies held together by gauze and tape only paces away. Naturally, the night before they were meant to leave, Nixon couldn’t sleep. He grabbed his flask and made his way towards the dunes on the far side of the camp.

He plopped down on a ridge into a bed of marsh grass, the coarse tendrils tickling his wrists and neck. Nixon closed his eyes and inhaled. The whiskey he had guzzled earlier that night had seeped pleasingly through his veins. The summer air blew across the salty water cooling the sweat where it pooled around his collarbone and lower back. It was so peaceful. If it weren’t for the peppering of tents barely visible against the night sky, Nixon could have pretended he was there on holiday and not for a war.

When he opened his eyes, he saw a lean figure making its way up the dune towards him. Nixon braced himself for the quiet wisdom of Winters. However, the figure failed to grow as it approached him, only reaching a height of about 5′5″. The silhouette revealed itself to be Emily, dressed in another pair of slightly oversized O.D.s.

“What?” Nixon barked at her.

“I saw you pass by,” Emily dropped down beside him, bumping his arm on her way down. Disgruntled, Nixon scooted over slightly.

“Why aren’t you asleep?”

“Why aren’t you?” Emily retorted.

“Couldn’t.”



“Same here.”

Quiet fell between them, a comfortable quiet but Nixon could sense Emily wanted to say more. Finally, her lips parted and she said, “it’s not something you can get over.”

“What?”



“Seeing the men like that.” Emily searched his face in the dark for any reaction. Nixon stared straight ahead. “It’s disturbing and not something anyone should ever have to witness.”

Nixon licked his lips to speak, but all that came out was, “yeah.”

Emily paused, then reached for his flask. She pulled it from his grasp and took a swig, “It’s over for now. We have to find comfort in that.”

“Right, some comfort in that,” he took the flask back for another drink. They sat there side by side listening to the waves crash against the shoreline. As the night waned on, Emily began to doze off. Her head fell to rest on his shoulder. Nixon considered waking her to walk her back to her tent but then decided against it. He didn’t want to disturb her. If she woke up now who knew if she would be able to fall asleep again. Besides, he enjoyed sharing a little sliver of the world with her in that moment. A sliver that was simple and not perverted by violence.

When the sun rose, she stirred and they both made their way back to their tents for a desperate last few hours of sleep before they were to ship off. As Nixon was boarding the ship he saw Emily standing on the Mulberry harbor hugging a dark, thin woman dressed in a nurses uniform. The woman brushed wild hairs away from Emily’s forehead then pressed something into her hand. Nixon couldn’t help but wonder what that exchange had been about. Out of curiosity, he met Emily at the gangway.

 “Who was that?” he asked.

“Hm?” Emily pulled a paper wrapped candy out of her pocket.

“Who was that woman you were talking to? A nurse?”

“Oh yeah, that’s my friend Marwa.”

“I didn’t know you had female friends.”

Emily rolled her eyes and popped the candy into her mouth.

“What was that?” Nixon pointed to her mouth.

“Ginger candy, you want one?” Emily offered him a candy and Nixon accepted, beginning to feel like his old self again standing next to her.

#band of brothers #fanfiction #original character #as far as friends go #lewis nixon x oc #emily rooney #lewis nixon #harry welsh #dick winters #female cartographers #females in ww2

[thelordofdarkreunion]

Magnificent Scoundrels- Humans are Strange

A little bit of shenanigans, a little bit of character development, lots of interactions.  To the person who responded to my last story saying I should write what would happen if Cain met Conn, I will be doing that next, so worry not.  None of these characters belong to me except for Drake and his crew.  

In the Hangar of the Apocalypse

The stainless steel walls of the hangar reflected the clean light from the starship, bouncing it off neatly cleaned surfaces.  A shuttle and sparring mat were off in the distance contrasting with weapons racks, storing a mind-bogglingly large assortment of firearms.  However, in the center, facing towards a padded wall, was a most peculiar device.  

“So, let me get this straight.”  Quill turned to Drake.  “This is an aircraft catapult.”

“Yes,” replied Drake.

“And it’s used to launch aircraft on runways that are too short for them to pick up speed?”

“Yes.”

“And you strapped an office chair with wheels to this thing?”

“Yes.”

“And you want us to sit in the chair while you launch us?”

“Yes.”  Quill turned to the rest of the Scoundrels, who were staring at the contraption with various degrees of perplexity.  Shepard raised a hand.

“Yes?” asked Drake sweetly.

“Why?”

“Why not?”

“...okay.  Fair enough.  I’m first.”  The large, well lit hangar bay exploded with noise.  

“The hell you’re not!” replied Vir vehemently.

“I’m first!” added Quill.

“Nuh-uh.  I called it before either of you,” snapped back Shepard.

“Calm down,” interrupted Drake.  “So, who all wants to be first?”  Everyone except Cain and Solo raised their hands.  Even the Master Chief raised his hand as if he were in a primary school.  Drake didn’t dwell on the comical sight of six of the universe’s greatest heroes standing with their hands in the air as if they were children.  “Wonderful.  I’m thinking of a number between one and twenty.  You will all guess which.  The closest will go first, the second closest will go second, and so on and so forth.  Make sense?”  Everyone nodded.  “Now, guess,” ordered Drake.

“Ten.”

“Heh.  Eleven.”

“Twelve.”

“Damn you.”

“Nine.”  

“Fifteen.”

“Eight.”  Drake pursed his lips.

“Quill, you had ten?  Right on the money.  You’re first.”  Quill did a small victory dance while the others looked on enviously.  Drake stepped over the catapult mechanism.  “Okay…” he muttered.  “You sit there.”  Quill did as commanded.  “And attach the seat belt.”  He reached around and clicked the belt across his lap and shoulders.  

“Is that...is that attached with duct tape?” asked Cooper concernedly.  

“No.  The seatbelt is firmly welded to the chair.  The duct tape is just there to hold the strap at a comfortable place,” replied Drake flippantly.  Cooper raised an eyebrow at Kirk.  Cain and Solo were both settled back with ‘let’s see how this goes’ expressions on their faces.

“Is this safe?  I mean...this is an aircraft catapult, and the only thing you have is a seat belt?” said Kirk.  Drake snapped his fingers.

“Ah!  Yes.  Take these.”  He tossed a bicycle helmet and knee pads to Quill.  “There!  Perfectly safe.  Mostly.  There is padding in the landing area, as well, so you are unlikely to break anything important.  Probably.”  He frowned.  “Eh, not important.  Alright!  You stand there, you stand there.  Ready?”  Quill cracked his neck and took a few deep breaths.  Several nearby crewmen were exchanging money while another one was making motions with a pair of aircraft marshalling wands.  Cain turned to Solo.

“It appears you and I seem to be the least..impetus of the bunch,” he remarked dryly.  Solo gave a dry laugh.

“Or we are the most interested in keeping our appendages in their proper places.”

“You can say that again,” muttered Cain in response.  The two were cut from their conversation as Drake grinned and gave a wild thumbs up.

“Ready!” yelled Quill.

“And...boom!”

In the Medical Bay of the Apocalypse

Vir looked over the broken, bruised, and battered body of Quill, past the beeping medical machines and the busiling of several doctors from the various ships in the Scoundrels' fleet.  

“Was it worth it?” he asked down to the man on the bed.  Quill grinned up at him.

“So worth it.  Even with the broken nose and bruised ribs and face.”  Kril, the Omen’s overprotective insectoid doctor, frowned at the various Scoundrels clustered around the bed.  

“I specifically forbid any of you from doing that again!”

“Aw, but I wanted to try it,” muttered Shepard under his breath.

“Hey, it’s my ship, my invention, so my rules.  Go knock yourself out,” said Drake.

“That’s exactly what you’re going to do if you try it,” intoned Chakwas, the Normandy’s human doctor.

“Eh, he’ll be wearing a helmet.  What’s the worst that could happen?” asked Drake.

Forty Minutes Later

Quill looked over at the two neighboring beds, now occupied by Vir and Shepard.  He grinned.  “Was it worth it?”

“So worth it!”

Later That Night

The room was a large, classy looking lounge, opulently decked out with expensive carved wood furniture and a large, extremely well stocked bar covered with ornate and very expensive-looking crystalline glass bottles.  The lighting was dark, as benefitted such a space, and reflected off the deep mahogany wood paneling of the walls.  All of the Scoundrels themselves, and any of their crews or retinues who wished to come with them, had been invited and were currently sitting at the bar or any of the white-clothed tables nearby.  The room seemed to be divided roughly into groups: the Scoundrels themselves, their second-in-commands or aides, a group of various crewmembers and associates who sat at the bar drinking heavily, the medical professionals, a group of extremely lethal-looking individuals who seemed to be swapping war stories, and a miscellaneous group who gradually formed in the corner.  At the Scoundrels’ table, Cooper turned to Drake.

“Not that I’m complaining, but why exactly do you have a super fancy bar and lounge aboard your ship?”  Drake gave a sly smile in response. “Well, I am the highest charging mercenary in my home galaxy, so all that money has to go somewhere.  Be honest with yourself.  If you had your own spaceship, wouldn’t you do something like this?”

“Yes.  Yes, I probably would.”  The conversation started to turn.  Over at the table of individuals sharing war stories, Garrus Valkarian, the Normandy’s lethal sniper, waved his arms around for emphasis.  

“So there I was.  The only way to get to me was across a single bridge.  No way behind, no way except across pre-sighted open ground.  And what did these idiots keep doing?  Charging me.”  Scoffs were heard all around the table.  

“Typical.  Mercenaries don’t know one end of the gun from the other.  Present company excluded, of course,” said Ramirez, one of the Omen’s marines.  Major Broklaw of the Valhallan 597th shook his head.  

“Never thought I’d be sharing war stories with this particular lot,” he commented.  Garrus and several of the other aliens at the table turned towards him.

“What, with non-humans?  I’ve heard about your particular attitudes.  Rest assured, we don’t want to kill you,” he deadpanned.  

“Yes, well, you never can be too sure.”  Broklaw patted his sidearm in a not-so-subtle gesture of ‘if you try anything you’re going to get a hole through the head’.  

“Enough of that,” said Garang, one of Drake’s armsmen.  “I don’t care about aliens or not.  What I’d like to know is: what is Master Chief and how the hell do we get more of them?”  

“Super-soldier?  Not sure,” muttered someone.  

“Well, I don't know how they do it in their particular universe, but there are super-soldiers in mine,” replied Broklaw.  “Did I ever tell you of the time Commissar Cain killed a Khornite Berserker in close combat?”  

Drake swireld the liquor in his glass experimentally and looked around the table.  

“So.  Plato said that unless philosophers become kings or kings take up philosophy, there is no hope for the human race.  Therefore, question: would you rather have a philosopher king or a warrior king?”  Looks were shared across the table.  

“Warrior king,” replied Cain.

“Philosopher king,” replied Kirk.  

“Have to give it some thought,” muttered Cooper.  Kirk turned inquisitively.

“Vir?  What about you?”  

“I don’t know.  Depends on the situation, I guess,” he said.  Kirk turned his gaze towards the original questionnaire.  

“Drake?”  Drake smiled knowingly.  

“Warrior king.  Definitely.  Warriors focus on ‘what is’, philosophers focus on ‘what if’.  Practical over theoretical.  Plato’s ideas of governing failed.  Confucius’s ideas failed.  The Buddah, Jesus Christ, Karl Marx, Adolf Hitler, you name it, good or bad, they were all detached from reality.”

“You’re really going to compare Hitler with Jesus and the Buddah?” asked Kirk.

“Well, I thought you’d appreciate it, with all your “no religion” stuff.”

“That’s not how it works.  Plus, warriors focus on killing, philosophers focus on doing better for everyone.”

“Okay then.  I’ll make a bet with you.  For every great ‘philosopher king’, I bet I can name two great ‘warrior kings’.”

“Deal.  Abraham Lincoln.”

“George Washington and Dwight Eisenhower.”

“Washington was more warrior than philosopher?” asked Kirk skeptically.

“Fine.  Eisenhower and Napoleon,” replied Drake as he settled back in his chair.  

“Marcus Aurelius.”

“Julius Caesar and Constantine.”

“Pericles.”

“Debatable if he was more philosopher or warrior, but, Leonidas and William the Conqueror.”

“Solomon.”

“Nebuchadnezzar the Second and Ramses the Third, if you want to go ancient history.”

 “Uhh...Haroun al-Rashid.”

“That’s from your history!” replied Drake.  “Before the splitting of our timelines.”

“Well-”

“The Emperor of Man and Lord Solar Macharius,” butted in Cain.  Kirk looked at him with exasperation.  “What?  If you’re using your history then I can use mine.”

Over at the table of second-in-commands, Spock, long-eared Vulcan executive officer of the Enterprise, gazed over at the still bandaged and bruised forms of several of the Scoundrels.

“Are they always like this?” he asked.  Glances were thrown around the table.

“Yeah,” responded every other individual there with perfect synchronicity.  Richter, Drake’s second in command, cast a dull look around the table.  

“Drake is, in his own words, and I quote, ‘fucking nuts,’” he inputted dryly.   

“Hmph.  Shepard seems to have a tendency for collecting the strangest people in the galaxy.  He’s got a bloody menagerie of highly lethal individuals.  The more alien species, the better,” said Miranda Lawson, raven-haired executive officer of the Normandy.   

“Tell me about it,” snorted Simone, second-in-command of the Omen.  “Shepard and Vir ought to get along well.”  

“That makes three,” muttered Gamora, de-facto assistant commander of the Milano.  

“Cheers, then.  To our various commanders.  May they at some point listen to our more rational suggestions.”  This drew a laugh.

“Cheers!”

As the night wore on and drinks flowed more freely, people became more relaxed and comfortable, sitting lower in their chairs and laughing louder at worse jokes.  Some, though, became more alert and tense.  For those with more experience, it would never do to be found wanting at any time.  But at the table of the Scoundrels, it remained roughly the same.  Their members were experienced enough not to get caught intoxicated and to still remain perfectly at ease.  

“So.  We have two Johns, one Adam, one Peter, one Ciaphas, one James, one Han, one Thomas.  Interesting how that pans out,” said Drake as he finished the last of his glass.  

“What do you mean by that?” asked Shepard.  Several glances from the others seated supported this question.  

“John.  Hebrew.  ‘God is Gracious’.  Name used frequently throughout the Bible and in early Christainity.  Became synonymous with the most common name in the English language, and never really lost that identity.  However, you two are nothing like ordinary.”  He nodded at Cooper and Shepard.  “Shepard.  Leader of sheep.  Leader of the flock.  Shepard of humanity.  Leader of men.  Saviour.  Legend.  Hero.  Much better.  Much more accurate.”  He paused, took a breadth, and looked Cooper dead in the eye.

“Cooper.  Old English.  ‘Barrel Maker’.  Somewhat common name.  Can be either first or last name.  Doesn’t really connotate anything.”  Drake’s iron gaze turned to Vir.

“Adam.  Hebrew.  ‘Man’.  The first human.  The first man.  Fitting.  First human to make contact with aliens.  First human to lead the GA armada.”  He paused again and looked around the table.  “Adam.  Husband of Eve.  Father of Abel, Seth...and Cain.  Intriguing.”  Everyone looked much more uncomfortable.  Good.  “Vir.  ‘Man’.  Again.  You have a most appropriate name.  Very interesting.  Perhaps vir-y interesting, if one was inclined to make bad puns.”  A slight lessening of the tension.  More confusion.  Even better.  

“Peter.  Greek.  ‘Stone’.  The First Apostle.  Guardian of the Gates of Heaven.  He’s the reason why the name is popular.  Fitting?  Not particularly, but I suppose it remains to be seen.”  Another pause.  Another breadth.  More looks and stares.  “Quill.  Not a common name.  A quill is a hollow shaft of a feather.  Or, perhaps, a porcupine quill.  Used to write things.  Used to fly.  Used for defense.  Many different things.  Is that what you are?”  Odd.  A question, this time, instead of an answer.  The gaze moved on.

“Ciaphas.  Intriguing.  Most unusual name.  Caiaphas was a Jewsish high priest in the Bible.  He was the one who plotted to kill Jesus Christ.  He was the presider of the Jewish trial of Jesus.  He was the one who handed him over to the Roman governor.  Responsible for the death of the Son of God.  Betrayer.  Murderer.  Responsible for deicide.  Unfitting for you.  Quite the opposite, in fact.”  Drake’s glass was making circles on the table, idly sliding around as black-gloved fingers played with it.  “Cain.  Third human.  Second man.  First murderer.  Son of Adam and Eve.  Brother and killer of Able.  Again, unfitting.  Most interesting name.  Very sordid.  Two infamous murders.  Hmm.”  People were leaning closer, listening more intently now.  

“James.  English for a Latin name derived from the Hebrew Jacob.  Two Apostles were named James.  Unfitting.  You’re anti-religious.  But… English name.  Became popular in Britain due to King James.  One of the most popular names in Britain and America around the turn of the Second Century.  Kirk.  Never heard of it before.  Not going to go into details.”  Another pause.  The looks were becoming more relaxed.  Very good.  

“Han.  Most likely a derivation of Hans.  Hans.  German and Scandanavian derivation of John.  Another John.  Very interesting.  Apparently the stereotype of that name being extremely common is true.  Solo.  ‘Alone’.  By yourself.  Fitting?  Somewhat.  Hmm.”  Another hum of perplexion.  Or was it perplexion?  Perhaps something else.  

“And that leaves only two.”

“And your name?” asked Vir.

“Thomas.  ‘Twin’.  Aramaic.  People forget, but there were originally three Judas amongst the original Apostles.  Jesus renamed one ‘Thomas’ to avoid confusion.  Extremely popular name in English-speaking countries.  Drake.  Old English and Latin surname.  Means ‘snake’, ‘dragon’, or ‘monster’.”

“So, if I were to analyze your name like you did with ours, then I would say that whoever named you didn’t do a very good job.  ‘Unfitting’,” said Kirk.  Drake laughed.  A low, threatening laugh.

“Incorrect.  Thomas Drake is not my given name.  It was chosen by me for a reason.”  Any heads that were peering into drinks or staring around the room looked up sharply.

“What?”  

“You heard.”  Drake’s glass was now sliding between his left and right hand, moving across the table with a scraping noise.  “We all have our secrets.  Isn’t that right, John?” he shot at Master Chief, a small smile playing on his face.  The Chief, who throughout the night had barely moved and said even less, reacted as if he were slapped across the face.  “Yes.  I know your name.  We all have our secrets.  I know all of yours.  You don’t know mine, or each other’s.”  He leaned forward, suddenly much more serious.  “But if you want to trust each other, secrets must come out.  I won’t tell any of mine, until you give me yours of your own free will.”  The atmosphere was tense.  Hostile.  Glances were thrown across the table, looking for enemies and allies.  As it should be.  

“You don’t trust me.  Good.  Or maybe not.”  Drake picked up his glass and stood.  “Do whatever you wish, with or without my presence.  Good night.”  So saying, he left the table and walked, like a specter from the room.  

More looks were thrown around the table.  No one spoke for a long time, each lost in thought.  The silence continued for the rest of the night, each individual lost in their own dark secrets.  

Hope you liked the story.  If you have any comments, criticisms, concerns, questions, or requests, feel free to ask!  

#magnificent scoundrels #story #writing #my writing #my story #fanfic #crossover #scifi

[bloodpacks-archive]

to let go - ch. 1

summary: when Garrus gets separated from Shepard, he has to let go in order to find his way back to her. spirits know he doesn’t want to.

word count:  3.7k

warnings: canon-typical violence. character death. grief. u know.

note: hello this is the first chapter of my new series for garrus! you can also read it on ao3 (and frankly i recommend reading anything on ao3 the link to mine is in my bio) so read it there if you’d like! n e ways. i’ve been wanting to write abt this bird for a while so please enjoy.

In the midst of fire, the Normandy strong under his feet, Reaper forces closing in and the sound of that damned laser beam taking over his hearing—Garrus reaches out to her. His words pass his lips disjointedly, pauses and stutters making him feel like he’s messing this up.

Messing what just might be the end, up.

“I-“ He pauses. Every molecule in his body is telling him to fight her on this. If he could grab her now and pull her inside the Normandy and just keep her safe-

She’d hate him forever for that.

“love you too,” Is what he settles on. His eyes fall over her as she moves away, her hand coming away from his face and instead resting on his arm—just for a moment in time. He still tries to reach out, ignoring the way the stretch of his arm leaves a burning pain across his shoulder and abdomen.

He tries to memorize the way she runs, tries to remember every step, how she tends to favor her left leg after that damned brute on Menae. He remembers watching as it managed to corner her for just a moment—long enough to leave damage, nevertheless.

As the hatch closes, he tries to peer over it, keep his sight on her as long as he can.

“Garrus,” Tali says from beside him. He doesn’t respond, doesn’t even let his eyes glance in her direction. “Garrus,” She says again, this time with more force. The hatch is still shutting, the Normandy is starting to move away, he can’t lose sight of her-

Tali says his name again, and this time, it finally breaks him away. The hatch hisses to its final secured state.

Tali’s hand is delicate on the plating around his shoulder, her other arm still wrapped around his waist as she helps hold him up.

“You have to let her go.” Her voice, even through her suit, sounds broken. Garrus knows she means he has to let her go to the Citadel, he knows she has to get the Crucible in place, but that’s not the letting go that he’s worried about.

He’s not entirely sure he can do the other one.

He sure as hell doesn’t want to.

Tali starts leading him to the medbay, and Chakwas is quick to jump to her feet to help both of them inside. Somewhere, lost in his thoughts, Garrus had forgotten that Tali had been hit pretty hard too. Hecurses himself, and makes a mental note to apologize to her after all this mess is done.

Chakwas is uncharacteristically quiet as she patches the two of them up. Tali’s mostly tending to her own wounds, sealing off parts of her suit to apply her own medigel while Chakwas looks over Garrus’s shoulder, which he’d managed to absolutely singe while dodging that vehicle—managing to roll into fire. Stupid.

“You’re nervous, aren’t you?” Chakwas says, finally. She doesn’t meet his eyes as she speaks, and he’s not even sure how to respond, if he’s honest. Of course, he’s nervous. He’s been nervous since he saw resurrected Shepard standing in front of him on Omega—a new kind of fire behind her eyes, but that same smile that meant she was grateful to see a friendly face. He’s lost her once, he knows what that feels like.

And he knows that it’ll only be worse this time around.

“I am too, but I’ve known the Commander for a long time. She’s stronger than anything they can put in her way now,” She fills the silence from her own question and then pauses her work on his shoulder, finally letting her eyes meet his. “And now, she has someone to come back to.”

Or someone to leave behind.

He still doesn’t respond to Chakwas, instead giving her an understanding look before she returns to her work on his shoulder and the scans of his abdomen.

And he hates it here. Here, he’s fucking powerless. He can’t shoot something, or cover Shepard, or hell, even push a fucking button to help her.

He’s stuck on the Normandy, in the medbay, of all places, waiting.

He’s never been good at waiting.

He remembers the last time he waited for Shepard so clearly. It’s only been a few months, but spirits, it feels like years since he said goodbye to her after their suicide mission, after the collector base and after everyone had finally decided now was the time to go back home.

The goodbye back then—it wasn’t anything special. Garrus was to be dropped off at the Citadel, as most of the crewmates were, and find his own way back to Palaven from there. They’d known, of course, that eventually they’d have to say goodbye and their whole… thing would be over. But back then, they’d thought it was going to end with one or both of them dead on that collector base, no reunions, no goodbyes.

He remembers calling her Commander, and her laughing at him.

“Drop the formalities, Garrus,” She’d said, eyes that same bright determination that he’d come to admire.

“Shepard-“ He’d replied, and she raised an eyebrow at him—an expression that made it known he was still wrong.

And so he’d whispered her name, her first name, and finally said he’d miss her. She told him to stay out of trouble, and he told her that if anyone needed to stay out of trouble, it was her. But, if she ever found herself in it, he’d be the first one by her side.

Who knew they’d both be there when the entire galaxy was once again the one who’d made the trouble.

To be honest, he probably knew it. She probably did too. He doesn’t think either of them wanted to admit it.

So when he’d went back to Palaven, he waited for her return. He stayed in contact with Liara and Tali, and all three of them kept tabs on Shepard the best they could. Of course, it was mostly Liara who fed them the information back then.

But they waited. And when the Reapers arrived on Palaven, and he lost contact with Liara and Tali, he waited. And as he fought on Menae, watching as his home burned, knowing damn well that Shepard was doing the same with Earth, he waited.

And every night, when he was finally given the opportunity to sleep and take a break from the explosions that rang in his ears, when he could finally set his gun down for just a moment and allow his eyes to rest, he’d waited, and hoped desperately to see her again.

Until finally, he did.

This moment, laying in the medbay, slowly feeling his shoulder and abdomen come back to life, feels just like those last few days on Menae. There’s no keeping tabs on Shepard, no information the Shadow Broker can give him on how she’s doing in house arrest, no telling that she’s even still alive.

Although, back then, he’d been quick to decide that a Reaper invasion to Earth wasn’t going to be the thing to take her out. He knew Shepard, she’d go down screaming.

No, now- now feels like a glimpse into liminality. He’d heard humans on the ship use the term Schrödinger’s cat—you can’t know if it’s dead or alive until you know, and until that moment when you know, the damn cat is neither.

Back on Menae? He’d decided she was alive, no evidence needed.

Now?

He’s not sure what to think.

Chakwas lightly pats his shoulder, her signal that he’s good to leave whenever he wishes, and he takes that opportunity as soon as it’s given to him. He says a quick goodbye to Tali as Chakwas begins her final look over on her, and Tali teases him for leaving her all alone in the medbay, but both of them know it doesn’t mean anything.

He rushes out, trying to make his limp look a little less painful than it feels, and he makes his way up to the bridge. He’s thankful that the Normandy is as stable as it is. Although he feels the way Joker twists and turns it, it’s just enough that he can still walk in a mostly straight line, careful to walk along the walls, bracing against them for support.

And when he makes it to the bridge, he’s surprised to be met with mostly silence. Just Joker and EDI working independently, but fluidly. Quick words are exchanged between them as they navigate the Normandy through the firefight. The orange hue of the cockpit is something Garrus has always found comforting, and for just a moment, he allows himself to admire the way it reflects on the various pieces of tech. But through the glass, he can see the destruction that lies before them. Although he can’t hear the sound of the laser beam now, he can sure as hell remember the way it rattled his skull just moments before.

The way it acted as nothing more than ambience for Shepard’s goodbye to him.

“Can we get any comms through?” Garrus doesn’t expect his voice to be as quiet as it is, soft and almost as though he’s attempting not to interrupt Joker or EDI in front of him. Joker sighs, not saying anything as he moves across his display, pressing buttons as he multitasks both flying and whatever the hell else he’s doing.

“Commander? This is Joker, what’s going on down there?” Joker pauses, letting silence fill the air, the soft static of the comm filling the bridge with an essence that Garrus would rather ignore. “Damnit.”

“It is probable that comms may not be reaching her in the Crucible,” EDI replies, her voice, metallic as it is, gives Garrus some level of comfort. “But,” She begins.

“EDI, don’t.” Joker cuts her off, giving her a pointed look as he continues to maneuver the ship. With a sharp turn, Garrus grabs onto the railing beside him, leaning into the wall on his bad shoulder. He tries not to hiss.

“Jeff, you know we may have to-“

“We’re not-“

“Not what?” Garrus’s voice is firm this time. Another set of silence sits between them, and EDI finally turns to look at him, Joker sighing in his chair and letting his shoulders slump.

“I did some analysis on the construction of the Crucible. It is likely that the initiation of the weapon may cause damage to the Normandy.”

“Which means…” Garrus trails off, his gaze passes from EDI to the back of Joker’s head. He’s remained silent, still heavy in his chair.

“If Shepard sets off the Crucible-“

“When Shepard sets off the Crucible,” Garrus corrects. EDI glances between Garrus and Joker for a moment before continuing.

“When Shepard sets off the Crucible, we will have to evacuate the system.”

The ship does another sharp turn, and this time, when Garrus’s shoulder hits the wall, he doesn’t stop himself from hissing. Can’t stop himself. Half of his focus is on keeping himself upright, while the other is on how the hell she came to that conclusion.

“No, Joker, you can’t be serious,” Garrus says, turning his attention to someone he hopes will be a little more reasonable than a goddamn AI.

“I know Garrus, I-“ Joker pauses, takes a breath, “I don’t want to either, okay? But if this ship goes down, there’s no telling what could happen to us.”

“So we’re just leaving Shepard then.” His voice is colder than he expected, and for a moment his instinct is to apologize to Joker. He erases that thought rather quickly.

EDI speaks again, “On Earth, it is much more likely she’ll have access to medical facilities and other resources should she be hurt.”

“And she’ll think her crew abandoned her,” Joker says.

“It is very unlikely she’ll think that, Jeff.”

It’s then that Liara walks in, unsteady on her feet as the ship moves, grasping the railing across from Garrus.

“What’s going on?” She asks.

In any other situation, Garrus would’ve kept his cool. He would’ve looked to Shepard and known that now was not the time for anger, that everyone is under stress right now, that maybe evacuating the system is the only answer.

But Shepard isn’t here. Shepard’s the one they’re leaving behind. Shepard’s the one who’ll be alone on Earth, waiting.

Or at least, he sure as hell won’t be here to silently bring Garrus back down, or to direct his gaze towards her and let his heartbeat settle in his chest.

And so the anger bubbles up.

“Abandoning Shepard, apparently,” He replies, harsh and cold and everything he’s grown to hate about how Turians tend to act.

As he walks away, turning to grip the railing with his other hand now, not even caring if his limp is noticeable, he hears Liara’s confusion and EDI’s overly-calm explanation.

But he doesn’t care anymore. No matter how much he fights on this, he knows he won’t win. He knows EDI’s right, but he fucking wishes she wasn’t.

Maybe we could land on Earth.

No, too much ground fire. Getting down to evac him and Tali was hard enough, there’s no way they’ll be able to replicate that one.

Then we could land on Mars, maybe, or Luna.

No, if the blast really is bad enough, they might be stranded there, breathing out of oxygen tanks for who knows how long.

And so they have to evacuate. They have to leave Shepard.

Garrus stands just outside the bridge, leaning against the wall. He started to listen back into what little conversation there is, Liara asking for updates on the situation in as calm of a manner as she could.

He picks up on the tremor in her voice.

She must hate being helpless as much as he does.

Garrus closes his eyes now, leaning his head back against the wall, trying his best to regain whatever ounce of composure he had left.

“And you’re absolutely sure we have to leave Shepard?” Liara asks, her voice timid and quiet. Garrus can barely hear her above the soft hum of the ship.

“It may be the only way to keep the rest of the crew safe.” That’s EDI, metallic and calm again. Garrus should apologize to her later. And Joker. And Liara. And Tali for earlier.

His list of apologies is growing a little too long for his liking.

As he stands there, listening to their conversations and the hum of the Normandy, Garrus doesn’t feel that bubbling anger anymore. Or at least, not at the crew. Himself? Maybe, but mostly at the goddamn galaxy that created this mess.

The council, for not listening to a damn word Shepard said three years ago, back when Saren was the biggest problem any of them had ever faced.

The Reapers, for creating this whole mess in the first place.

Every military leader that ever doubted Shepard, that ever hesitated in offering her their support.

And lastly, and most weakly, Shepard—for leaving him alone.

Then the ship rocks, what sounds like a small blast hitting the side of it. Soft gasps come from some members of the crew. Garrus stumbles on his feet, groaning as his bad leg takes on the majority of his weight. He grips the railing a little stronger then, pulling himself off of that leg and onto the other.

Another blast hits, this time on the opposite side, and Garrus hears Joker curse. He moves back into the bridge then, taking his spot next to Liara once more. Joker’s hands move frantically over his display, sending the Normandy in various directions away from the line of fire.

Garrus looks back to see Tali coming onto the bridge as well, standing behind Liara with a hand firmly placed on her shoulder.

Then the comm crackles. He takes a breath in, and notices the way Joker tenses as well. Liara and Tali exchange glances, then both focusing on Joker’s orange display as it slowly comes to life, forming a voice.

When it’s Hackett that rings through the speakers, the entire room deflates.

“Attention all ships, evacuate the system immediately. The Crucible is coming online. I repeat, all ships evacuate the system immediately.”

There’s a moment of silent celebration between the crew. For a moment, it feels as though they’ve all forgotten who’s on the Crucible, who’s been left to do the hardest part for them.

“Looks like the Admiral took your advice,” Joker says to EDI. It’s flat, and while Garrus knows that Joker trusts EDI with this, he also knows disappointment when he hears it. She stays silent in reply.

“We still haven’t heard back from Shepard,” Liara says. Garrus is thankful that she’s the one who voices that concern.

“It may be possible for us to stay for a few moments in an attempt to contact her before we leave,” EDI says.

She hasn’t even finished her sentence before Joker’s on the comm lines and her name is about all they hear for the next few seconds.

“Commander Shepard this is the Normandy, come in.”

Crackling, then silence.

“Commander Shepard this is the Normandy.”

Joker’s taken to resting his fist near his lips between speaking, clenching and unclenching his jaw.

“Shepard, come in.”

The comm continues to crackle. EDI begins to say something before Joker hits his hand on the arm of his chair.

“Goddammit Shepard, come in!”

Garrus moves forward, steady on his feet, finally, as the Normandy stills. His movement—it doesn’t feel like his own. Half-possessed by his a self-preservation instinct and half by what feels like Shepard’s own instincts. This action—this decision—it doesn’t feel like his own. But he knows that if he were to do anything else, Shepard would never forgive him. He places a hand on Joker’s shoulder, and he breaks his gaze away from the comm, looking up at him.

Joker looks tired. Garrus knows this war has taken a toll on all of them, but he never expected to see its effect on Joker’s face. Something about his bad jokes and witty remarks seemed to leave him invulnerable to any of these tragedies in Garrus’s eyes.

“Joker,” Garrus draws a breath, letting silence settle. The comm’s crackling rings between them. “We-“ Garrus stutters, looking to the side and closing his eyes for a moment to gather himself again.

This is the right choice.

This is the only choice.

For the second time today, he has to let her go.

“We have to go,” Garrus says, finally. Joker pauses, and then nods, solemnly moving back to his console to get the Normandy as far away from the Crucible as possible.

But he won’t let that be the end.

He won’t let his last memory of her be the painful silence on the other end of a comm.

He refuses, that was not their goodbye.

He won’t know until he knows, right?

This, just like before, is temporary. There’s no other option.

Most of the other ships have already left the area by the time Joker begins his evacuation. Thankfully, the Normandy’s known for being quick, and they’re leaving about as fast as they can to avoid whatever hell should be upon them.

“Jeff, I am sensing a dangerous field close behind us, I advise that you move quickly,” EDI says.

Joker launches the Normandy through the Mass Relay, but he doesn’t relax, he continues to work on his console to speed the Normandy up as much as he can. 

Seconds feel like hours, Garrus’s hand is steady on the back of Joker’s chair, and he can feel the presence of both Liara and Tali behind him.

“Jeff, it is continuing to gain on us, we may be unable to escape it.”

“We’ll be fine, EDI, we just have to keep going. At least until we get somewhere safe.”

Then Garrus hears commotion from the back of the ship. Systems going offline, even the elevator stops working. Garrus is thankful that he and Tali made their way to the bridge—he never liked the idea of crawling through the vents.

“Jeff, it appears the blast is shutting down synthetic systems.”

“It’s what?” Joker breaks away from the console, looking at EDI as she works on the console of her own, as well as doing work within, Garrus assumes.

“I am attempting to reload systems as fast as I can.”

“EDI what are you saying?” Tali asks, moving forward, away from Liara.

“I am saying that,” EDI takes a moment to look up from her work on the console, “I am very grateful for all of you. Thank you for all that you have done for me, I hope my work can offer some support when you land.”

She looks to Joker then.

“And Jeff, please know that I love you.”

“EDI no, tell us what’s happening,” Joker replies.

“EDI, you have to tell us what’s going on,” Garrus says then.

“Setting course for nearest hospitable planet.”

“EDI-“ Joker’s voice sounds strained.

“I love you, Jeff.”

He breathes, and reaches out a hand to her, whispering his own love Garrus is sure. He tries not to listen to it.

The Normandy stops then, all of them lurching forward.

“Systems are down back here!” One of the crewmen shout from the main console. Garrus looks back to see most of the Normandy has gone dark, relying on emergency power. When he looks forward again, EDI’s body is slumped over, lifeless.

Joker says her name.

And then again.

And once more.

He looks at her body and reaches over in an attempt to move it, to see any sign of EDI’s inhabitance of it. When that doesn’t work, he starts yelling her name.

“EDI! Please, EDI I know you’re online. Please-“

Garrus can hear Tali and Liara’s soft echoes of grief from behind him. When he turns to look at them, he notices the crew by the main console is staring. He hears soft calls of EDI’s name from them as well.

There’s no response.

“Joker,” Liara says.

“No! No she’s not gone, she can’t be gone she’s a fucking AI they don’t just die-“

“Joker,” Liara says again. He doesn’t listen, he keeps trying to bring her to life, searching systems and programs for any sign of her.

And then Tali screams, “Joker!”

And then they’re crashing.

#mass effect #mass effect fanfiction #garrus vakarian x femshep #shakarian #garrus vakarian x shepard #garrus vakarian fanfiction #garrus vakarian

[ramblinganthropologist]

N7 Challenge 28 - Peace

Summary: After the war... Alistair Shepard can finally take a fucking nap. Or at least he can as long as he remembers to put the Bachelor on first. You think the guy who saved the universe would at least get to choose the channel...

---

Well... they'd won.

They'd won and he was in the hospital.

Though, at least it was one he got a view of the outside world. After nearly two months in a coma, Alistair was glad to have something to look at as the doctors ran countless tests. Apparently, waking up after a two month coma was kind of a big deal in the medical world. He just wished they weren't so rough with the blood tests, he only had one good arm.

Yeah... the missing limb thing was kind of rough honestly. But at least he still had his left arm. How kind of the Reapers to leave that one there.

'At least you are trying to be positive.'

There it was again. Alistair frowned as he held his head with that remaining hand. It was like a swarm of bees buzzing around in his skull. At fist he had thought it was an auditory hallucination brought on as a side-effect from his amp exploding, but that wasn't a side-effect. Death and permanent brain damage, sure, but not hearing a voice.

So... that one was him.

“You're not a Reaper, are you? I don't have a chunk of Reaper stuck in my head, do I?”

He was pretty sure you weren't supposed to acknowledge auditory hallucinations. Or maybe you were... he wasn't sure anymore. His brain was pretty rattled as of late, what with the whole end of the war and all that.

Plus the coma. Had he mentioned he had been in a coma?

'I am not a Reaper.'

Well, at least there was that.

Alistair would have shrugged, but moving hurt still. He had broken pretty much every bone at least once after the end. Most of them were in various stages of healing, so he just needed to lay there and let them do it. Since he no longer needed to lead up a war effort, people were happy to let him just sit there and heal.

It was a nice break.

'You deserve it after many sleepless nights. The universe is safe now.'

“At least it's safe from the Reapers. I can't do anything about gangs and the rest.”

'Take solace in what you did do.'

Something about the soft hallucination in his head did something nice to settle the anxiety in his bones. Maybe it was just a figment of his battered brain, but he was content to let it babble in his ear as he stared up at the cracked ceiling.

'So...you saved the universe. How does it feel?'

Alistair honestly wasn't sure. When they had been in the thick of the war with the casualties piling around his feet, he hadn't gotten much time to think about what it would be like on the other side. Now that he was there... it felt weird.

Like maybe he should've been feeling a lot better than he actually was.

“I'm still thinking about EDI and the geth...”

'I have no doubt they will return. You made the best decision you could with the Child.'

His eyes widened as he tried to sit up – that was a bad idea, because it hurt like hell. “How did you...”

'I have been with you since before you awoke in 2185.'

Oh, great. A long term auditory hallucination. You know what, he was going to blame this one on Cerberus. Not like they were hurting on things to be blamed for, but one more wouldn't hurt. After all, he still owed the Illusive Man's corpse a few more kicks.

Still... he settled back in, sighing. “Right... great.”

'You can call me Love if you want.'

“Fine, nice to meet you, Love. My name is Alistair. You can call me Al.”

'I know. Nice to finally meet you, Al. Now... can we watch the Bachelor? Bo put it on for me while you were out.'

Something about that made Alistair chuckle as he weakly reached for the remote. Apparently, his named hallucination had a taste for trashy TV. Oh well, if they had been with him as long as they said, then maybe they deserved a reward too.

Did it have to be so awful, though?

Despite how much he hated reality TV, a warm feeling settled into his bones as he sat back to watch. Maybe that was Love the hallucination finally settling down. Honestly, it felt nice. Kind of like sinking into a warm bath, only he was dry and in a hospital. All things considered, he wasn't going to complain about it.

The next thing he knew, someone was turning off the TV. The sun had moved across the sky, and was now setting on the other side of the hospital. Twilight was settling in now, and from the looks of things he had slept through more than a few episodes of the Citadel's hottest dating show. Lucky him – he'd missed the drama.

Better yet, Bo was holding the remote.

“Oh, hey.”

She shook her head as she sat beside him. Her arm was still in a sling, but it was the last bad injury she had left to heal. A few more weeks, and she probably wouldn't need it anymore. Then she'd be off to bash someone in the skull. After all, she was retired now.

“I'm guessing you met Love, then.”

Alistair wasn't going to argue with her about his hallucination. “Yeah, they said you introduced them to the Bachelor. Couldn't you have found anything better for them to watch?”

Bo shrugged. “It was that or Lifetime. Didn't really want to watch either honestly, but the Bachelor can be gay sometimes so it was the better choice.”

…

Yeah, he could agree with that. Gay always was the better choice.

For a few moments, the room was silent. It was so quiet, they could hear the construction still going outside and the soft beep of his heart monitor. Together they created a weird tempo that had started to sink into his bones. With all the activity of the Normandy during the war, he had gotten used to noise. Not having it would have been weird.

He was probably going to need a white noise machine or something when he got out...

“So... did you put your papers in yet?”

Bo was playing with a bandage around her injured hand. Despite that, her crimson gaze was focused straight on him. She knew the answer, but she wanted to hear it anyway. After all, talking about it made it real.

And this was pretty real.

Alistair motioned to the table next to his bed. “Almost. I just need to sign and then it's done. I'm officially retired.”

“Well, get to it. Can't have you becoming a Captain or something, then you'll never retire.” She snickered. “Or worse, an Admiral. I can hear it now. 'Admiral Shepard, can you go deal with this?'”

He shot her a look, but he chuckled anyway. “Admiral Shepard says 'fuck off, I'm an admiral. Get someone else to do it.'”

“Bullshit, you'd go out and do it yourself!”

Their mismatched laughter rang out in the small hospital room, though it was hardly sustained on Alistair's part. After all, he was still healing and doing too much of anything still kind of hurt. At least he wasn't coughing this time. Healing was slow, but it was working.

Yeah... he didn't have the heart to do that kind of thing to someone. Besides, he was a hands on type of guy.

When their laughter calmed down, Bo was back to looking at him. “I mean it. You said you were going to retire, so get to it before they pin any more medals on you.”

“I will... it's just weird. We've been in the Alliance for so long that not being in it is... odd.”

About as odd as finally beating the Reapers. The universe was just full of odd things anymore. Maybe he just needed to learn to roll with them.

“Well, let someone else handle it for once. We've done enough for the damn universe. Time to kick back and relax.”

Relaxing sounded good... it probably be easier to do when he had some prosthetic and could actually move, but for now relaxing in bed it was. He had been complaining pre-war about needing more sleep, maybe it was time to catch up on it.

After all, wasn't like there was much else to do.

“I've never been good at that.” Alistair chuckled weakly as he closed his eyes. “Guess I'm too used to running around fixing stuff.”

Bo's voice was soft and deep off to his side. “Stuff, people... I swear you've got some kind of kink for it honestly.”

“Well it wouldn't be so much fixing if you could keep your omni-tool in one piece...” he cracked one eye open. “I see it's broken again, by the way.”

Normally, that kind of smart assery would have gotten him shoved or something. Her arm twitched, like she was thinking of doing it, but in the end she gave that up. After all, pushing someone in such serious condition was kind of mean. She was an asshole sometimes, but she was only mean to him when he was able to take it.

And people thought she was heartless...

“Yeah... well, when you're up to fix it, you can. Helps me avoid the Alliance bitching at me about my retirement for now.”

The TV turned on again – wasn't the Bachelor at least. “Get some rest, Al. I'll be here when you wake up.”

Rest sounded excellent. Though Alistair wasn't sure if he'd hear the hallucination again when he'd wake up, he was comforted in the fact that at least he wouldn't be alone during it. That alone allowed him to drift off.

Really, this was the real prize after finally ending the war. At last, he had the peace to take a damn nap whenever he wanted. Maybe that was what he had been fighting for the entire time. You know, besides saving the whole universe from the Reapers. That was a nice side goal to being able to take a fucking nap.

He'd take it.

#ramblinganthropologist's writing #yes I cross over with dragon age BITE ME #Alistair Shepard #Bo Peep Shepard #also introducing Love

[justkeepcalibrating]

If you want some prompts, can I ask for forehead touches and/or hand holding?? Or "I thought you were dead or going to die and I need to feel you with my own hands to be sure" -- Angsty-sweet or sweet-sweet or whatever you're feeling c:

Almost Too Late

“What do you mean we can’t get ahold of her?”  Garrus pressed himself up against the backside of Joker’s chair, trying to understand exactly what Joker was looking at.  “Can’t you just call her?”

“Look, buddy.  I’m doing everything I can right now.”  Joker scoffed, frantically hitting the buttons in front of him.  “If you’re seeing something that I’m not, don’t be shy.”  Garrus wasn’t as familiar with Joker’s setup, otherwise, he would have kicked the human straight out of his chair to make sure they could get ahold of Shepard again.  Garrus made his way to the hangar door and stared at the entrance to the Collector base.  He knew that their final push with the Collectors wasn’t going to be easy, but he had hoped that he could have stayed in contact with Shepard during the whole fight.  After the amazing night they had before, there was no way that he was going to lose her now.

“I’m fine.  Did the ground team make it out?”  Finally, Shepard’s voice rang out over the cockpit speakers.  It was full of static and garbled, but she was alive.  Garrus steadied himself on the hangar doors as a sigh of relief escaped him.  

Joker pulled himself out of his chair and walked behind Garrus, placing a hand on the back of his shoulder.  “She’s alive, but she wasn’t alone.  We’re going to need to be ready with some serious firepower when she comes out of that door.”  Joker smiled as he grabbed a rifle, threw it to Garrus before grabbing one for himself.  “’Bout time.  I hardly ever get to be part of the action.”

“I guess most of our skirmishes do happen away from the Normandy, eh?”  Garrus forced a laugh, still trying to hide his concern for Shepard as she made her way back to him.  All this waiting had him on edge.

Joker loaded his gun, placing his eye on the other side of the scope.  “Yeah well, I’m still a pretty good shot.”

His heart leaped into his throat as the base door opened and Shepard, Tali and Thane made their way towards them.  Joker was right.  The two unloaded a decent amount of bullets as the three made their way to the hangar door.  The three climbed into the ship gasping for breath as Joker staggard back to the cockpit to get the Normandy moving again.  “Alright everyone, this isn’t going to be a steady flight.  Hang on.”

“Mel,” Garrus breathed as he reached out for her.  Shepard looked up at him with a weary smile.  She was real.  Somehow, everyone had survived.  He ran his talons down the side of her arm until he reached her hand.  He held it tightly, unable to find the strength to let her go again.  “You scared me for a moment there.”

Melody’s smile grew, her hand reaching up to stroke the side of his face.  “Told ya I’d be right back, didn’t I?”  Garrus laughed hoarsely, for some reason struggling to catch his breath.  There had been a very real possibility that the two of them could have died in there.  A very real possibility that Garrus could have continued to live his life after just barely getting to experience what was blossoming between them.  Now, thanks to whatever god it was that was looking down on him, he could continue to hold her in his arms for as long as possible.  

“You certainly took your time.”  He closed his eyes just enjoying her touch as she continued to trace the lines on his face.  Her fingers were soft and warm as they explored the crevices of his hard plates.  The way she touched him sent shivers throughout his very core.

“Well, I-”  Suddenly the ship shifted, throwing both of them up against the side of the ship.  Melody’s smile grew as she pressed herself up against him.  “Well, hello there.”  Rather than respond, Garrus returned the smile, pressing his forehead to hers as he took her scent in.  Blood, sweat, and lavender filled him and he couldn’t help but feel comforted by the strange mixture.  Placing his hand around her waist, he leaned even further down, placing a small kiss on her lips.  

“Just glad you’re safe.  Let’s just…not do that again.”  

Melody looked up at him, her smile turning into something much more mischievous.  “And miss all the action?  No way.”  Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him back down into another kiss.  “Though…could prolly hold off for a while if you have something more fun in mind.”

Garrus chuckled, the ship finally pulling off from the Collector base and back in the direction of home.  “I think I can come up with a few ideas.”

#Sooooo #found this in my ask box basically finished and decided I missed them #so I finished it #trying to come up with some new little one shots #so feel free to keep sending requests #i'm not the fastest #but I'm trying #mass effect #mass effect 2 #garrus #shepard #shakarian #mass effect fanfiction

[incorrectly-quoted-queers]

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: The End.

Shepard had been dead 232 days.

Garrus had been going over their new security measures when the apartment's front door pinged. It wasn't a sound he heard often, since all the crew had their own codes to the back door. But the Via siblings were new, and Butler's wife did sometimes stop by, so he figured it was just one of them.

What he didn't expect was a female turian with blue markings to have her arms crossed, looking at him like he just committed a crime. Before he could react, the glare faded and she smiled at him. Garrus' head still wasn't fully straight when she pulled him into her arms.

It only clicked together that this wasn't some damn fever dream when she started talking. "Happy birthday, baby brother!"

Oh. It was that day.

"I'd ask if I surprised you, but I already know I did." The second he shut his door behind him, closing off his vigilante world from his family, that damned brain of hers caught on and she peered at him. "I know you wouldn't have anything planned for your birthday, so what are you hiding?"

If it was his father, he could lie and say a woman and the man would happily walk away from the shut door, uninterested. But Solana was a different beast. She was curious, intrusive, and interested in damn near anything. It would be hard to keep her out of his apartment, lined with guns, gear, and a krogan casing the joint.

Also, she definitely would give him shit for his undecorated bedroom and that was a blast from the past he never wanted to deal with again.

So, his best shot was to go truth adjacent. "There was a break-in on my block. I have a consultant in there retrofitting my place with more security."

"You caring about your own well-being and safety is... new, but I won't complain." Solana snorted and shook her head at him, in her normal well-meaning but condescending way. "Only you would schedule a security consultation on your birthday. Were you going to do anything at all?"

Garrus leaned against his door and tried not to look too pissed off, because Solana knew the answer to that and was really just trying to push his buttons. Sure, that would be a stretch for anyone else, but his big sister? He knew how she operated. Probe for intel and then use that intel to make whatever point she was making infallible. He stuck with, "You know the answer to that."

"Doesn't the fact I know the answer to that speak volumes to the issue at hand?" Dammit. And he thought he said something neutral. Before he could spike back, she added, "It's been three years, Garrus, you're not dancing on mother's grave just because you dare to enjoy your birthday."

Now that one was a funny answer. "Really Sol? That's easy for you to say when she didn't die on yours."

"I've never liked the guilt games you and father play. Just yesterday he was messaging me about how it's his fault you react poorly to death and rebel. But do either of you do anything with that guilt? Because that's progress I'd like to see." Garrus almost laughed, because the one thing close to progress was also the one thing he really didn't want her to see. "Life happens. Death happens. Now, if I remember correctly, I begged for a sibling. So if not for yourself, let's celebrate the happiest day of my four year old life, meeting my little brother."

He wanted to stay mad and indignant, maybe even scare her off. But dammit, he cared too much about Solana for that. Groaning, he pushed off the door and conceded. "Fine, let's go get some food and see a flick or something. You did come all this way to see me."

"You're right, I did, so thank you for appreciating it." She walked forward first and he took the opportunity to cover his tracks. With a flick of his wrist he typed out a quick message to Jawth and Sidonis, asking them to hide the guns and clean up the place before he got back; that his sister came for a surprise visit.

They agreed without asking a single question. Which was good, because he'd rather off himself than tell those assholes what day it was.

Now the real landmine was keeping Solana from looking too deeply into the Archangel rumors. If that caught her interest, he was sure she could figure it out. He didn't expect her to snitch to their father, who would objectively hate what he was doing, but he also didn't know how she'd react.

Garrus just wanted his sister to remain his annoying, inordinately supportive sister. He didn't want that to get complicated.

Somehow, he managed to dodge all Archangel talk the entire time. His most impressive save was pretending to choke on something to be louder than and scare off a guy at the cafe who wouldn't stop talking about his crew and their latest hit. Solana definitely didn't need to hear about "That blue-ass sniper turian."

That was more than enough to get her curious.

When they got to his apartment door, he almost breathed a sigh of relief. They'd made it, all the way back to his place, and she still didn't know. She could spend the night here and then he could send her back off to her life on Palaven, no harm no foul.

But for all his attempts, he'd forgotten one small, terrible little factor.

Sidonis knew who he was, and that man had a lot of contacts.

The second the metal panels slid open, every single one of his team was there, grinning like mad, with a garrish looking cake stuffed with candles. And right in front of his sister, the fuckers yelled, "Happy birthday, Archangel."

There were a lot of times with Shepard he wished to kill a man, but this time, he wanted to kill nine.

Solana just glared at him with a knowing smirk. "I fucking knew you were hiding something!"

Garrus grabbed her arm and took her outside, where all his idiot team wasn't watching. He started talking, fast. "Sol, I-"

"If you say you're sorry, I'll know you're lying." She shook her head. "So you're the infamous merc-killer? Honestly, I should've known. It was probably just wishful thinking." He was too overwhelmed to know what to say to that, but luckily Sol was happy to fill in the blanks. "I won't tell father. He would hate you for doing this. Just don't keep secrets from me, okay? I love you."

"I can give you that."

"Good. Now, why don't we enjoy your party that your team set up?" Before she walked through the door, she squeezed his arm and frowned. A classic Sol look of distaste; last time he saw it, it was when a co-worker of hers tried to ask her on a date because "she had to say yes to someone eventually". If Solana was less composed, he was sure she would've punched him. "I'm not eating that cake, though."

"Don't worry. I would have told you not to."

/

Shepard had been dead 365 days.

All he could see were her eyes. Soft green, always laughing at something. Until she wasn't. But wherever things were good, she was laughing, and hard. Garrus couldn't quite get his head straight, but he hoped he said something funny. More than likely, what actually happened was that he did something awkward and dumb, but that was almost just as good.

When he started scanning the room, he realized they were by one of the observation windows on the Normandy. Despite all the chaos in their lives, they'd taken a moment to look at the stars. He always liked it here. Why'd he never bring her here?

Even when she stopped laughing, she kept smiling. Like she always did after a long day, she pulled her hair out of that tight bun thing and kept on shaking it with her fingers. Sometimes he wondered what it felt like, and not like when he accidently touched it during movie night. Like how she was doing, hands all in.

But it was safe to say that was a bit more than a CO and an ex C-sec officer should be doing.

He wasn't quite sure what he was saying, or why he was saying it, but he told her, "When I look at the stars, I think of you." Garrus wasn't really sure when he got all bold. Maybe it was this haziness he was feeling.

Shepard raised one of her hairy eyebrows at him. "We live in space. On a spaceship. We see stars almost constantly."

Garrus took a step closer to her, sometimes wondering how she got anywhere with how oblivious she could be. And god knows he normally wasn't this smooth but this time, right here, he said what he wanted to. "Exactly my point."

Blinking, it took her a few seconds to register what he said, and she even turned to look up at him. But when their eyes did meet? Hers softened like for once, she finally got it. Her cheeks even did that little blush thing when she was embarrassed. "Oh."

With that look, was like all of his normal discomfort came rushing back, all those feelings that always told him not to say stupid shit like that. He shouldn't have said that, right? All those things she said she felt were byproducts of a lonely, drunk night where he got too close and she was alone enough to get stuck on it. She didn't like it, she couldn't, and it was weird, he was ruining the whole friendship thing... "Shepard, forget I said that-"

But then, she did that human thing they always saw in movies. She got on her toes and pressed her lips against his. It was weird, soft skin against his plates, but it was her skin, and that was what mattered.

Maybe he hadn't ruined everything.

Shepard said, "I won't forget-"

Everything seemed so right, but just then the wall blew open and Shepard was being sucked out into space. Again. He tried to grab onto her arms, legs, anything to keep her there. No matter what he reached for, she slipped through his goddamn fingers.

When he woke up, his body was shaking and he wrapped his arms around his legs. He hated to admit this wasn't the first time he had a dream like that, one where Shepard wasn't gone.

Garrus had tried so hard to keep her at bay. One year later, but she was always still there.

As long as he could help it, though, his nightmares would be the only place she had left to live. Elsewhere, he had work to do. And as much as he felt for her, pined for her, his life didn't have place for stubborn, Russian spectres.

Garrus had a station to protect.

/

Shepard had been dead for 728 days.

He never should've left the apartment. Garrus figured his team could cover the last of the security measures while he helped Sidonis. It should've been easy.

But when he got there, Sidonis never showed up. And when he got back, there was blood everywhere.

He trusted Sidonis, from the first day he met him. The damned turian seemed honest about wanting to save people. But here they were, and Lantar fucked them.

They were all going to die here, weren't they?

Most everyone was down already. Their corpses were strewn all over the place, their faces locked in horror or dull emptiness. The only ones left alive were Ryel, Gibbon, and Butler.

But from the looks of it, Butler didn't have much longer.

He yelled at the crippled leftovers of his team and asked, "How's it looking?"

Gibbon answered, "Understandably terrible. We have a vantage point, but they have many waves of mercs."

Ryel added, "This balcony view is not as pretty with bullets and brains flying everywhere."

Before he could respond, Butler grabbed Garrus' arm. His abdomen was covered in blood and he could see his stomach lining. The guy normally wore gray pants, but they looked like they'd been dyed red. "I'm not gonna make it, huh?"

"Butler-"

"Nah, I know." He coughed. Garrus couldn't lie to him. "As much as I'd like to go screaming out Nalah's name, I want to hear about something that doesn't break my heart. Tell me about your Russian girl, Garrus. And for real this time."

For all the times Garrus shoved her away, maybe Butler was right. If he was going to die, he'd rather hear about her one last time. He said to the other two, "Hold the line and be careful."

Then, he sat down next to Butler and held his hand. After all this time, nearly two years, he just started talking about Shepard like she really was. "Her name was Anya. She was competitive to a fault and loved saying quotes while she watched movies. She loved to dance, but just by herself. She was a brave leader, but what mattered more was that she was... She was a beautiful, squishy human."

"A human? Never woulda guessed." He knew he already told Butler she was human, but it wasn't really the time to contradict him. Blood loss never helped make the brain a stronger machine.

Instead, Garrus just kept talking, his grip on Butler's hand getting tighter as the memories and feelings wound around his chest. "Me neither, but from all your stories, you didn't sound like you expected to fall in love with an Asari either."

"You're right. I didn't. Tell me more?"

"She was a classic soldier, until she wasn't. An infiltrator class, great with a pistol, terrifying, even. But sometimes she'd walk into debriefings with sweatpants and her hair a mess, swearing about something the pilot did to her toothpaste. And I wondered how that person was the same one that inspired a whole ship, every day. But she did."

"And?" Butler looked at him knowingly, deliberately.

Today, Garrus let the dying man win. "And you were right, Butler. I loved her."

With one final smirk, his hand fell.

When Butler stopped breathing, Garrus picked up his gun, got behind cover like Ryel and Gibbon, and started shooting.

If he was going to go down, he was gonna go down fighting. And this time, he wouldn't stop thinking about her. This time, if he was gonna die, she'd be the last thing on his mind.

No matter where he went, he was stuck with her. Forever.

///

After a little interlude into Garrus' two years without Shepard, we can finally start getting Anya awake and moving in his direction. I am SO ready.

I read on tumblr a couple weeks ago that apparently a lot of people write their own version of 4 things: their first meeting, the rocket-to-the-face, the night before the suicide mission, and "this is the best spot on the citadel.

I know it's stupid, but I honestly feel kinda proud that I ignored their first meeting entirely. And also that my suicide mission night will be VERY different. Is it a stupid thing to be proud of? Yes, but at my core I'm kinda a trash hipster and I can feel pride and shame in that.

Anyway, thank you so much for reading! And extra thanks to my lovely patrons:

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#Drunk Punch Love #Shakarian #Intermission: Archangel #femshep x garrus #Garrus Vakarian #Anya Shepard #Lantar Sidonis #Archangel #Mass Effect 2 #mass effect fanfiction #fanfiction #Omega #Blue Suns

[soldiermom1973]

N7 Month, Day 24 - Villain

More Allie & Kaidan, though not like I usually do.  You can read this on AO3, if you like, and if you want to know how Allie got covered with her hoodie, you can read that one here. . . . . . . Allie knew it wouldn't take Glyph long to break them out of the vault, so she leaned against the wall and crossed her arms over her chest. “Penny?” Kaidan asked her, raising an eyebrow. “Penny?  What's that?” Garrus asked. Allie and Kaidan both laughed.  “It's an old human saying, 'A penny for your thoughts.'  Shepard is obviously thinking about something over there, I just wondered what it was,” Kaidan answered. “You mean beside the fact that we've just met my fucking clone and she's on her way to steal my fucking ship?”  Allie shook her head and sighed.  “Here's a thought for you – no matter how much good you do, you'll always be the villain to somebody.” Kaidan and Garrus glanced at each other.  “You're not a villain, Shepard,” Garrus stated.  “That second-rate you is just jealous.” “Yeah,” Kaidan agreed.  “She wants what you have, so she's going to take it from you.” “It isn't just her, though,” Allie shrugged.  She pushed herself off the wall when she heard the vault creak and start to move.  “The batarians are all pretty certain I'm evil incarnate.  Like I said...”

They stumbled a bit when the vault locked back into place and Glyph dropped the force field.  “The other you has made it to the Normandy,” it stated.  “I believe she is going to try and steal it.” “I know Glyph, thanks.  We need to find the others and get them out, too.  We don't have much time.” She and her friends raced back through the archives and to the surface, where Joker was already waiting and no one asked her to continue her line of thinking.  She ushered Kaidan and Garrus into the skycar, thinking of a Plan B, C, D, and even E in case things didn't go according to Plan A while Joker fumed about the clone potentially making off with the Normandy.

When it was all said and done, Allie and her team had come out victorious yet again.  The clone was dead, the ship was safe, and the only serious casualty was Traynor's toothbrush. Joker talked her into throwing a party and she couldn't disagree.  One last hurrah with her friends before the shit really hit the fan.  Traynor was generous with Allie's booze, EDI was a decent cook and kept everyone fed, and Allie stayed sober so she could remember everything that went on.  When things finally died down, she helped Kaidan get to bed and curled up on the couch.  She didn't sleep well, though, her mind plagued with nightmares, vision of her dressed all in black like those ancient 'spaghetti westerns' her dad used to love, cackling manically while doing what looked like good deeds but actually turned out to be part of a larger, more evil plot. The apartment was filled with the artificial sunlight that came with a Citadel morning when she finally woke up.  She frowned when she noticed she was covered with her hoodie – she hadn't been when she fell asleep – but didn't give it a second thought. She quietly padded to the kitchen, grabbed a cup of coffee from a mysteriously full pot, then made her way to the bar area, where she moved a chair so it was facing a window.  She chuckled at Joker's muffled plea to not think too loud, then curled up to get lost in her thoughts.  Her mind wandered to the day before and her musings whether or not history would judge her to have been on the right side of things. Saren thought he was doing the right thing.  He thought by helping Sovereign he might actually be helping the rest of the galaxy survive the next cycle.  It wasn't until the very end that he realized he was horribly wrong and by then it was too late and Allie couldn't save him. Matriarch Benezia went with Saren to try and keep him on a straight path only to find herself indoctrinated.  By the time she knew what was happening to herself, it was too late and Allie had to kill her, too. Dr. Gavin Archer thought he was doing the right thing, hooking his brother up to the geth collective to try and control them.  It wasn't until Allie went off on him like a hand grenade that he realized that what he'd done was actually horrible and shouldn't have even been considered.  At least Allie was able to help David there. The Illusive Man had humanities' best interest in mind when he brought Allie back from the dead to go after the Collectors.  He thought he still did, though the scores of Reaper-fied Cerberus troops Allie left in her wake begged to differ. What if she was actually the villain in all of this?  Was she actually doing the right thing?  What if she stopped the Reapers only to have organic life wiped out by synthetics in the future?  What if everything they'd been told about the Reaper harvests was wrong?  What if they actually spared some people? What if... what if... what if... “If you frown any harder, you might give Javik a run for his money.”  Garrus chuckled beside her. “Hey,” she smiled at her best friend.  “You're up early.” “Depends on your definition of 'early'.  Is this spot taken?” he asked as he dragged another chair next to her. “Please stop with the furniture rearranging and the talking and the being loud,” came another muffled plea from a very hungover pilot. Allie and Garrus chuckled again and kept their voices low.  “Seriously, Shepard, what's on your mind? Or, how did Alenko put it?  Penny for your thoughts?” Allie turned her attention back to the window and sipped her coffee.  “I'm just thinking about the people we've taken down who thought they were doing the right thing.  I guess I'm a little paranoid, you know?  I mean, curing the genophage now was a good call, but what if the krogan rebel again in five hundred years?  Sure, Wrex and Eve have a handle on things now, but krogan aren't immortal.  What if someone blames me for that because I cured the genophage?  And what if the war between the geth and quarians flares back up?  Who's going to suggest I should have picked one side over the other?” Garrus blinked and leaned back in the chair, crossing his ankle over his knee and let his friend talk. “I mean, Saren, Benezia, Dr. Archer, Maelon, Cerberus...  they were all the good guys at one point.  What if that's me now?  What happens if we find out I've actually been the baddie all this time?” “Are you listening to yourself, Shepard?”  Joker didn't pick his head up from the bar, so his voice was still muffled.  “Seriously.  How can you question the things you've had to do?  I know I can't speak for the rest of the galaxy, but I'm damn happy you're trying to keep me from getting killed or indoctrinated or turned into a husk.  And if anyone thinks you're a villain for that, well, they can pick a spot on my brittle ass crack and kiss it.” Allie smiled at that and Garrus purred. “He's right, you know.  Either you do what you're doing or the Reapers will be the end of us all.  No one's perfect, Shepard.  Not even you.  You're going to step on toes and piss people off.  It comes with the territory.  But villain?  Not by a long shot.” Allie sighed and stared out the window again, knowing her friends were right.  She glanced at Garrus when he nudged her knee.  “What else is it?” “Have you ever had that one person you wanted to impress?  One person who's opinion mattered more than anyone else's?” Allie whispered. “My dad,” Garrus answered without hesitation.  “It always killed me when he disapproved of anything I did.  I mean, I outgrew it, I guess you could say, because when I left C-Sec to help you chase Saren, I didn't care what he thought. Why?” “Because the one person who's opinion matters more to me than anything thinks I'm a villain.  Or, was a villain, I guess.” “You're talking about Kaidan,” Garrus observed.  “I thought he said he trusted you now?” “He said that, yeah, but...” Allie's voice trailed off and she stared out of the window again. “But what if, deep down, he thinks I'm this awful person who's done some awful things?  What if he thinks I'm still a bad guy in all of this?” “Commander, really?”  came Joker's muffled voice again.  He groaned as he pushed himself upright, then spun around to face her.  “Kaidan is one of the most uptight... I mean upright people I know.  If he said he trusts you, then he trusts you.  Believe me, if he didn't, he wouldn't be on my ship...  our ship working with you to stop the Reapers.” “I know, but...” “But nothing,” Joker stated. “Kaidan trusts you, I trust you, Garrus trusts you...  we all have your back, Commander and if you're a bad guy then I'm Grunt's daddy. Now, can we please stop talking so much so I can continue my hangover in peace?” The pilot spun the stool back around and dropped his head back on the bar.  Allie and Garrus chuckled and Garrus leaned forward to pat her leg.  “He's right, you know.  If we didn't trust you, if we thought for one second you were a villain, none of us would be here.  And for Kaidan?  I think you're being too hard on him and yourself.” Just then, James's booming voice filled the apartment, wondering if anyone wanted him to make some eggs.  “I guess I'll see if Vega's cooking is better than his dancing,” Garrus grinned.  “You should get something to eat, too, Shepard. You forget to do that sometimes.” “I will,” Allie said. Maybe Garrus and Joker were right – maybe history would judge her favorably when all was said and done. And maybe Kaidan really did trust her. It was just a shame her heart couldn't find the truth in that yet.

#N7Month #N7 Month 2019 #shenko #1000 years #Kaidan Alenko #Garrus Vakarian #Jeff 'Joker'' Moreau #Allie Shepard #villain

[aloha-solar]

The Spaces Between the Stars: Four

Rating: M

Ao3 link here

The optimism from the first meeting faded away around three days in. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, Kaidan knew that: it came from the fact that getting the ship put back together wasn’t going to be as easy as anyone thought. The crew was frustrated and tired, and under normal circumstances, that would be enough to make anyone snap. Trying to rebuild a ship in the middle of nowhere? Kaidan was surprised the crew lasted for one day, let alone three.

Campbell and Westmoreland started it first. The two privates had been stripping the armoring from one of the shuttles when Westmoreland pulled one of the pieces off. She pulled a little too hard, and Campbell nearly got hit in the face. In return, Campbell dropped a drill on Westmoreland’s foot—on purpose.

“Now that was a fight, let me tell you, L2,” James said a few hours later after Kaidan had reassigned Campbell to engineering and Westmoreland to resource management. He started passing the power cells to Kaidan. Kaidan began sorting out which pieces the Normandy could use and which ones it couldn’t. “Those two chicas were on the ground in five minutes, practically tearing each other’s hair out.”

“Mm-hmm,” Kaidan said. “I also seem to remember that Cortez was the one who paged me to the armory, because you were filming them.”

“Just wanted to see how their combat training was doing.”

“Really. And I’m sure you want to promote them for N7 training.” James laughed and slapped Kaidan on the shoulder.

Traynor and Liara struggled too. “I don’t understand,” Liara said to Kaidan a week and a half after they crash-landed. “We’ve tried practically every single solution. We’ve taken wires from the shuttles and other areas from the Normandy, we’ve checked the satellites, we’ve even done something as immature as turning the power on and off again. And yet, nothing is turning up. We haven’t been able to get any signal from any ships in Council space, let alone the Alliance.”

“Liara, you and Traynor are doing great,” Kaidan said, examining their handiwork. He tapped on one of the screens and watched it turn on. He tapped on the bright orange screen, but it didn’t show any icons or notifications. He gave the screen one more tap before turning it off and crouching down next to Traynor underneath the terminals. She was running a tool over some wires, breaking some of them and then tying the broken wires with a different half. Each time she broke a new one, a light blue glow lit up her determined face. “What tool are you using?” Kaidan asked as Traynor crawled forward to a new set of wires.

“Just my toothbrush,” Traynor replied. “I’m trying to see if changing the wire connections will make any difference. We might have accidentally mis-paired some of the wires when we were combining them with the shuttle pieces. Or, well, I might have. Liara’s an absolute whiz at this—”

“I assure you, Specialist, it is entirely possible I made some mistakes as well,” Liara said, leaning down to Kaidan and Traynor. “I am an archaeologist, not a technical genius.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Kaidan said, resting his hand on the edge of the table to keep his balance, “I think being the Shadow Broker is the same thing as being a technical genius.”

“Very funny,” Liara said. Kaidan glanced over his shoulder. Liara was shaking her head but she was smiling too. “If being the Shadow Broker led me to knowing how to fix computers and comm devices, I’m fairly certain we could have reached the Andromeda Galaxy by this point.”

“All right,” Kaidan said, raising his hands in surrender before standing up. Liara had pulled open a datapad, but she looked up as she realized Kaidan was leaving.

“Kaidan,” Liara said. “If you find him, can you send Javik in here, please?”

“What for?” Kaidan asked. “I thought we assigned him to engineering.”

“Don’t tell me you’re working on your book now, Liara!” Traynor called.

“No, no, it’s not that,” Liara said. She leaned in towards Kaidan and lowered her voice. “None of us have seen him in days. I checked Port Cargo, I asked Donnelly and Daniels if they’ve seen him and they said no. I’m sure it’s because the specialist and I have been so busy working on the communications system, but...” Liara’s voice trailed off. “I’m worried that he might have used his memory shard and…and…”

“Hey,” Kaidan said gently, squeezing Liara’s shoulder. “He wouldn’t have done that. He would have wanted to see what the galaxy was like without Reapers, remember? I’ll send him down here when I find him, just so you can see that he’s safe.” Liara nodded, her shoulders relaxing in relief.

“Thank you, Kaidan,” she said. Kaidan gave her shoulder another squeeze before letting go. Liara squatted down next to Traynor.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kaidan should’ve realized that Javik had been missing earlier, but he’d been too wrapped up in the ship’s problems to notice his disappearance. Kaidan had been flitting from one place to the next, from helping the engineers repair the engine, to showing Ensign Copeland the proper way to remove fuel cells, to assuring Chakwas that no, his migraines weren’t getting worse despite all the stress he was putting himself under. Kaidan didn’t actually see Javik until nearly three weeks in. Kaidan wasn’t even looking for Javik; he’d been looking for Joker. He found them both in Port Observation, Joker nursing a purple drink, Javik drinking straight from the bottle.

“I assure you, you will get over her eventually,” Javik said as Kaidan walked in. “She was not a real creature. She was just a toy that the Reapers made. She could not feel emotions the way organics do.” Joker mumbled something, but Kaidan was too far away to hear it. “There will be organics like you. It is better for organics to be with their own kind. Even the quarian and the turian—their relationship will end eventually. They will realize that they need to be with their own people.” Javik took a swig from the bottle as Kaidan rolled his eyes and stepped forward, so that the two men could properly see him.

“Ah, the human biotic,” Javik said. He fixed his four eyes on Kaidan. “And to what do we owe this pleasure?”

“Liara’s looking for you,” Kaidan said. He tried to keep his voice even, but he felt anger burning at the back of his throat. “What are you doing in here, Javik? Nobody’s seen you for three weeks.”

“I was examining the commander’s star charts in her quarters for you,” Javik replied. “You humans are so very predictable. Whenever you weren’t in the quarters, I was in there. You need the best route back to your home planet, and I was able to find one.”

“Wait—how did you even get into the captain’s quarters?” Kaidan asked.

“There is no machine blocking me from entering now,” Javik said. “Anyone who wants to go in can go in.” Kaidan bit the inside of his cheek to stop his biotics from slamming Javik into the floor. Kaidan had gone into the captain’s quarters multiple times, yes, but it was the closest he could be to Shepard. Even then, it felt like he was seeing her naked whenever he was in there on his own. To think that Javik was in there, sitting in Shepard’s room, going through her drawers and computer to find her star charts…

“I think it’d be best if you go help Liara and Traynor work on the comms system,” Kaidan said with forced evenness. “Or if you helped Garrus with the shield calibrations. We can’t leave if the ship’s going to be torn into a million pieces the second we hit the stratosphere.”

“Very well,” Javik said, putting the bottle back on the counter with a large bang. He stood up, bumping into Kaidan as he went. Kaidan started walking towards Joker before Javik spoke again.

“I am no fool, biotic,” Javik said. “I know you came in here to talk to your pilot, not find me. You wish to provide him comfort about the robot. You think you two share the same situation.” Kaidan took a deep breath. He imagined punching Javik.

“Are you saying it’s not similar?” Kaidan asked. “We both lost someone we love.”

“You fell in love with a human,” Javik said. “The two of you are equal, as you are both flawed. Your pilot fell in love with a synthetic. The two of them could never be the same. She has no flaws.” Kaidan whirled around to face Javik, but Javik already closed the door behind him.

“Asshole,” Kaidan mumbled under his breath before sliding onto the stool next to Joker. He gently slid Joker’s glass away.

“Cutting me off, Major?” Joker said. He rested his head on his hands and stared straight ahead. “I only had, like, one drink. Javik’s the real alcoholic.”

“But if you keep drinking it, how are we going to party when we get the Normandy up-and-running again?” Kaidan asked. Joker gave a little chuckle, but he didn’t look at Kaidan. “What’s wrong?” Kaidan prodded gently.

“It’s…well, it’s EDI,” Joker said. He rubbed his eyes with his knuckles. It made him look like a small child. “Tali said she can get her back online as a VI.” Kaidan paused.

“That’s good though, right?” he asked. Joker snorted.

“Yeah, if you like mindless sex slaves,” he said. “It’d be like having Shepard around, but Cerberus actually putting that control chip in her head. Sure, it might sound and look like the same thing, but if it only answers to one person and loses all traces of her entire personality, then it’s basically a sex-doll, right?”

“Yeah,” Kaidan said. He swallowed. He’d forgotten about the control chip. Shepard told him about it once, after the clone fight. She’d assured him that Cerberus never went through with it, but still, it made him worry.

“But yeah,” Joker said. “Looks like we’re gonna be getting VI EDI for a while.”

“I’m sure Tali will be able to make her a full AI again once we’re on Earth again,” Kaidan said. Joker shook his head. He looked over at Kaidan, and for the first time Kaidan saw how bloodshot his eyes really were.

“No. She can’t,” Joker said flatly. “You think the Alliance is going to be willing to let us build an AI, even if she did help save the galaxy? Or the Council? We just faced down the most fucked-up synthetics ever created, and we’re supposed to go back and be all, ‘Can we rebuild this one? She’s not like other synthetics, we promise!’ just because I want to get laid?”

“Are you forgetting I’m a Spectre?” Kaidan said. “We can rebuild her. I’m not leaving her behind.”

“I think even Spectres are going to have limits, Kaidan,” Joker said. He put his head back on his hands again. “The Council and the Alliance will be thankful that we saved their asses, but there’s no way they’ll be that thankful.”

“Then I’ll go behind their backs if I have to,” Kaidan said stoutly. “You think Shepard would leave EDI behind too?”

“No,” Joker said softly. He blinked rapidly. “At least…like, it’s hard to be around Tali now, you know? ‘Cos she has Garrus and everything. But you…you get it Kaidan, you know?”

“Yeah,” Kaidan said, and he felt the rush of pain again, stabbing his arms and legs, drowning his lungs. Because of course he got it. He didn’t have a choice but to get it.

“Does it get easier?” Joker asked. He bit his lip and blinked rapidly again. “I mean, cos I lost my dad and my sister a little before we lost the commander, and then I lost EDI, and it feels like somebody’s just broken all my limbs and told me to rebuild myself. And sometimes I get up in the morning and I forget what the hell happened, but then it all hits me like I took fifty punches to the head.” Kaidan swallowed again. It felt like he had concrete in his mouth, weighing down his tongue and jaw.

“Sometimes,” he answered. “When I lost Shepard the first time, there were moments that I thought it was just a bad dream. That I could just roll over and she’d be there next to me. But when I looked and saw that she wasn’t there, I just couldn’t handle it. It felt like a piece of me was missing, and I had to keep on going. But then those moments didn’t come as often anymore, and it would…” Kaidan sighed. “It’s really hard to explain, Joker. It really is.”

“You want to know something really fucked up?” Joker said. “I’m so pissed off at them. Like, if my dad and my sister hadn’t lived on Tiptree, if Shepard hadn’t run to the beam and activated the Crucible, if EDI hadn’t been made of Reaper tech, then we wouldn’t be here. Everything would have gone on as normal.”

“Being angry is normal,” Kaidan said. “I was so pissed at Shepard for letting her oxygen leak when I knew that she had no way to stop it.”

“Yeah,” Joker said, sighing. He pulled the drink back from Kaidan. “Humans are pretty fucked up.”

"You said it,” Kaidan said, picking up Javik’s bottle and pouring out a drink for himself.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Kaidan!” Liara hissed. Kaidan bolted up. He’d been having his first dreamless sleep in a month. He fumbled for the comms device.

"Wha--?” he mumbled as he pressed the button. “It’s too early, Liara—”

“I know,” Liara said. “But you need to come down to the comms room. It’s so—Goddess, I wish I could tell you this over the channel, but you need to hear this in person—”

“I’m coming,” Kaidan mumbled again, staggering out of the bed and down the elevator.

“Major, are you all right?” EDI asked as Kaidan stumbled out of the elevator. “It is nearly one AM Vancouver time, and you are usually asleep.”

“I’m fine, EDI,” Kaidan said. “Go back to sleep mode.” Kaidan shook his head as he walked through the scanner to the war room. Tali had been able to get EDI back online, and EDI had been running diagnostics on the ship, but she seemed more sluggish than before. The crew could only get her to run diagnostics on one area of the ship at a time. It was a major downgrade, but they’d made more repairs in the week that EDI came online than the other eight weeks put together. EDI lost all sense of her personality, but at least the Normandy was one step closer to making it home.

Kaidan stepped into the war room. Liara was still fully-dressed, while Traynor had slipped into her pyjamas. The two of them were standing next to the communications room.

“Why all the secrecy?” Kaidan asked as he approached them.

“We wanted you to be the first to hear,” Liara said.

“Well, more like the third at this point,” Traynor said. She rubbed her eyes but gave Kaidan a winning grin. “It’s good news, we promise.”

"You got the comms system back online?” Kaidan said as the three of them stepped inside.

“Not just that,” Traynor said. “But we made contact.”

“It’s a recording,” Liara said. “But it’s better than nothing.” She clicked a button and suddenly a blurry image of Admiral Hackett appeared. He looked tired, the wrinkles on his face deeper than Kaidan ever remembered them being, but there was a glimmer of victory behind his eyes.

“This is Admiral Hackett of the Fifth Fleet,” the recording said. “I am sending this message across all available channels and colonies in hopes of reaching the SSV Normandy. The Reapers are gone and Commander Shepard is still alive. I repeat, Commander Shepard defeated the Reapers and is still alive. Please respond to any Alliance channel as soon as you can, Normandy. Hackett out.” The image of Hackett fizzled out and Kaidan collapsed onto his knees. Traynor finally let out the squeal she’d been holding in, while Liara put her fingers on Kaidan’s shoulder.

“Is it real?” Kaidan finally breathed out.

“Yes,” Liara replied. “I had EDI run diagnostics on it three times before I woke up Traynor and had her check it herself. We can’t send outbound messages yet, but I thought it was important you found out first.” Kaidan closed his eyes. He knew Shepard was going to be injured, but he imagined her looking the same way she did when she defeated Sovereign, limping out of the wreckage with a triumphant grin, her freckles visible even through the dirt on her face. He let out a deep breath that quickly turned into laughter. He pulled Traynor and Liara down with him into a hug.

“We have to let the rest of the crew know,” Kaidan said eventually. He opened his eyes and saw that Liara and Traynor were crying, and he felt tears running down his own cheeks. “We have to.”

“EDI,” Liara said. “Can you wake up the rest of the crew? We have important news that they all need to hear.”

“Of course, Doctor T’Soni.”

“She’s alive,” Kaidan whispered. “She’s alive, she’s alive, she’s alive.”

[capriswritingnartshenanigans]

How Did It End Up Like This?

SFW. Warning unplanned pregnancy, gore, blood, death, and thoughts on abortion. Takes place in ME3.

Shepard tried her hardest to keep away one thing that could jeopardize the entire Reaper War. Not only that, but she also has to deal with all the hiccups life can bring.... Catch it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15184358

“Chakwas? What's the test say?” Shepard stifles a flinch at the way her voice sounds, portraying all of her inner fear. Her heart beat loudly in her ears, and her leg was starting to go numb from sitting so long on the med-bay bed, and she was sure Chakwas could tell all of what she was feeling just by her voice. She felt a warm, gentle hand on her shoulder, and it gave a soft squeeze as though to calm or reassure her.

“It's... It's positive, Shepard. It's just as you thought; you're pregnant. Congratulations.” Shepard's head spun as the world slowed around her. Pregnant? No. There's no way...Anxiety and nerves hit her again, even more ferociously than when she noticed some things were off herself... She had thought she and Kaidan had been careful enough; she always made sure they took as much precautions as possible, even the night the first started sleeping together again. She had been careful. And yet, here she was, being told all that work to keep such a compromising situation from occurring was now happening. What the hell was she going to do?

“Shepard? Shepard, are you alright?... Shepard, can you hear me?” Shepard snaps back into the present at the sound of Dr. Chakwas' concerned voice. The older woman was watching her with worry.

“Sorry, sorry. I got caught up in my thoughts. But you're sure? Absolutely positive?” Chakwas nodded, her lips pursing into a straight line.

“I ran the test four different times just to be sure. Unless all are somehow miraculously false-positives... You are indeed pregnant. I'm not equipped to tell you how far along you are, however; we'd need to have you seen at Huerta Memorial for that.” Shepard feels a cold chill run down her back; the thought of having anyone else know... Not yet. She still needed to make decisions on the baby. Hell, she needed to talk to Kaidan... Kaidan. Oh, God, how was she going to tell him? How in the hell was she going to just casually mention that she's pregnant in the middle of a war with the Reapers? Maybe... Maybe she shouldn't tell him. Not till after everything, not until it's all said and done, if she even keeps the baby. Shepard's mind felt frazzled by all these thoughts. What was she supposed to do?

A few days goes by, and Shepard hasn't been able to tell Kaidan yet. Every time she's tried to say the words to him, her throat feels like there's cotton stuck in it, and her mouth goes completely dry. Trying to tell him was killing her more than the not telling, which couldn't be good, right? She was supposed to trust him with these things, not keep them from him. What would their marriage be like later, if she couldn't trust him with this kind of news no-

“Shepard. Haha, are you ignoring me? I'd hope I've done nothing too wrong to deserve the silent treatment.” Shepard is pulled out her thoughts by him. His whiskey colored eyes dance with slight confusion and amusement as his lips held a half smile only he seemed to be able to pull off. Her heart clenched while looking at him; why was she so afraid to talk to Kaidan when all he did was make her happy?

“No! No, no I just... Keep getting lost in thought. Sorry, Kaidan.” She apologetically kisses him, and he eagerly returns it, one of his warm, calloused hands gently coming up to cup her cheek. She leaned her face into his hand as they sat there, watching each other, and wondered again over how she couldn't seem to tell him such an important fact.

Later, in the evening, or well, what would be evening on Earth, Shepard found herself in the cargo bay. Joker and EDI had finally gotten them to a small, half-dead planet rumored to be the location of another Cerberus lab. Naturally, Shepard wanted to investigate.

Her armor easily locked into place over her, providing protection to most of her body; since the news, she had taken time to order specialized armor meant to give more protection to her abdomen, to keep her and the baby safe. Of course, only she and Chakwas knew that... Shepard still hadn't managed to tell Kaidan. She looked over at him, suiting up into his dark blue combat armor, and watched him for a moment. He seemed to sense her, because as he put on one of his pauldrons, he looked up and grinned at her. She returned it with a small smile. She turned her gaze to James, who was already geared up, and simply just checking his guns for any issues. After calling for confirmation they were both ready, they all three loaded into the shuttle where Cortez was waiting, and headed on onto the planet.

The near-white sunlight greeted Shepard's eyes as she stepped out of the lab, her breath still coming in pants and her armor splattered with unintelligible amounts of gore from both humans and Reaper cretins. As it turned out, the Cerberus lab was indeed there, and it was still in use. In fact, it was being used to study Reaper tech and what it does the bodies of different species; the amount of brutes and husks she had fought seemed incredibly ridiculous now that she could actually think about it. The air was crisp and almost burned her throat to breath, but it was refreshing to be out of that hell, and she planned to relax for a moment. She could hear Kaidan and James laughing and joking behind her, likely just as happy as she was to be out of that horror fest. She breathed a deep breath in, and released it with a whoosh as a metallic roar pierced the air. She whirled around, but before she was fully turned a heavy body, clad in armor, sent her flying elsewhere. She let out a loud grunt as she landed, thankfully without whatever it was on top of her, and just barely heard the pained groan and loud thump from whatever it was. Her head spinning, she looked over to see James passed out; he'd likely hit his head on the landing.

She stood, her head screaming for her to do otherwise, and staggered towards where they had originally been standing. She heard... noises. A wet crunching and crushing she didn't think she had ever heard before. She tried to hide using the building's corner, and peered around, her vision still iffy. Blurrily, she saw what seemed to be a brute doing... something. As her eyesight cleared, a sickening dread coldly clawed at her insides and up into her throat. She saw horribly dented blue armor, blood, and gristle. Adrenaline flooded through her, spurred by her panic, and she grabbed her assault rifle, and started to shoot at the thing's head. It roared in pain, swiveling to look at her. It climbed out from behind the short, paved walkway's concrete guarding and came barreling at her. She froze, unable to move. The brute quickly drew closer, and right as it was on top of her...

BOOM. A shot rang out, blasting the brute well away from her. Shepard looked to the skies, and saw the Normandy's shuttle coming towards her. Another shot sounded, and the beast went quiet, a huge hole blown in the area of its head and chest. Shaking, Shepard stumbled over to the walkway as the shuttle landed, and her heart stopped at what she saw... or rather, what she couldn't. Kaidan lay there, unrecognizable except for his armor. Her heart and mind fought over the truth, one crying it can't be him, it just can't be and the other of course it is, it's his armor and no one else was around. Her throat swelled shut as tears rushed to her eyes. She hopped over the guarding, and stumbled into falling on her knees beside his body. She mumbled brokenly, tears streaming down her face as sobs started to well in her chest. Her face was hot, but her mind and body were coldly numb.

It wasn't supposed to happen like this... Nothing was supposed to happen like this.

#shenko #fshenko #kaidan alenko #kaidan #shepard x kaidan #mass effect #deathfic #gore #blood #unplanned pregnancy #small mention of thoughts of abortion

[shakib-posts]

budapest Apartment

budapest Apartment Lucas Bravo Knows How You Feel About 'Emily in Paris'

Photograph credit: Roger DO MINH/Netflix

From Harper's BAZAAR

While every other person was gorging Emily in Paris, Lucas Bravo was keeping away from it. "I don't generally prefer to watch myself, since I'm really hard on myself," the French entertainer, who plays fantastic cook Gabriel in the Netflix satire, tells BAZAAR.com. "Where anyone would see an amusing scene or something charming or anything, I simply observe all the [faults] and all the things I might have improved." He feels diversely about the arrangement however. "I love the show," he says. "I thought it was incredible and was so glad for it, however I can't watch myself."

Presently, while isolating in Budapest, Hungary, on the set for his next film, Bravo is advantageously separated from the all out advanced talk Emily hath fashioned. In spite of the fact that some have discovered comfort in the unconventional Darren Star–made arrangement amidst a bizarre year, others have discovered it to be silly and stereotypical. (Is Lily Collins' Emily even a decent influencer? For what reason are her French associates characteristically stodgy?) Some French pundits even found the arrangement "annoying." As a real French entertainer dealing with the show, Bravo comprehends the input, yet he remains by the arrangement—it should be ridiculous.

"No doubt, there's a touch of truth all over," he says of the investigate. "I believe everyone's qualified for his own assessment. Furthermore, Paris is, as I said prior in past meetings, it's various, and there's numerous accounts to tell. So you need to pick a point, and Darren shows his vision from when he was in Paris as an adolescent. … It's loaded up with parody. [He] needed for individuals to get away from the insane the truth we're all in the present moment. A few people like reality excessively much, which I comprehend too, however else, it would have been a narrative about Paris. Also, this isn't what this show is. So I comprehend the two perspectives, I regard them."

Maybe something the two camps can concur on is that Bravo is the heart breaker existing apart from everything else. On the off chance that you look past the hot takes and protests on Emily in Paris, will undoubtedly discover responses like the accompanying.

visit here for more info  budapest Apartment

Story proceeds

"I simply feel appreciative for the consideration and the affection," Bravo says modestly of his—and Gabriel's—new being a fan. He felt a real association with his character, and not on the grounds that he was a real sous-culinary specialist a couple of years prior. "[He] was initially expected to be from Nice, where I was conceived. What's more, Gabriel had consistently been a name I truly loved. I generally disclosed to myself I would give my little girl or a child the name Gabriel." Bravo considered it to be a sign.

The entertainer is now making moves post-Emily. He's presently recording his next undertaking, Mrs Harris Goes to Paris, featuring Oscar chosen people Lesley Manville and Isabelle Huppert. "I'm actually squeezing myself each day going to set," he says. His fantasy teammate however? Denzel Washington. "I could likely end my vocation just subsequent to working together with him," he says. "I'd resemble, 'Alright, check!'"

In spite of the fact that Bravo is investing a large portion of his energy isolated in his lodging (and submitting to wellbeing rules), being in Hungary implies he's not dependent upon the ongoing lockdown and time limit rules in France. "I'm in reality pretty happy to be away," he says, eased. "Timing couldn't be more awesome."

Here, the breakout star subtleties the convergence of messages he's gotten from fans and his expectations for a potential Season 2 of Emily in Paris.

What do you believe are some regular misguided judgments that Americans may have about French individuals?

I lived in L.A. for a very long time when I was truly youthful, and I saw what individuals thought of Paris and French individuals. I didn't see numerous assumptions. I thought they were pretty right on the money. Obviously, for the ones who never left the States, they're actually riding this old banality. Yet, you know, those adages are genuine, and they're here on the grounds that they exist, and they're important for the appeal. Despite the fact that French individuals would prefer not to let it out, this is us. This is truly us.

What scene was the most diversion for you to film?

I wouldn't state fun as far as, it's an interesting scene, however amusing to shoot, was most likely my last scene, which is where I bid farewell to Emily, on the grounds that I should go to Normandy. Furthermore, I was truly associated with that second. Lily gives you so much, and practically you should simply respond to the feelings she's sending your direction. Along these lines, it was truly fun, since it felt truly natural. Also, toward the end, when the scene was finished, I needed to return to myself and I … it's one of the scenes where I felt more associated with Gabriel's quintessence.

Did you have an encounter that way, where you needed to move away, before?

Goodness, better believe it. My whole life. I've been voyaging at regular intervals. My folks were voyaging a great deal, and I needed to rehash myself in each city and nation I was visiting. Thus, better believe it, it unquestionably rang a bell.

It's practically similar to you were an Emily.

[Laughs.] I've unquestionably been an Emily. Better believe it.

There were a great deal of little insinuations in the content when it came to food. Were there any minutes where you were shooting when you all couldn't keep a straight face?

Gracious, I think one about the most clever scenes we needed to shoot was the one with Gérard, Camille's bare dad. We shot the scene at the pool with Emily, finding him bare, thereafter. Furthermore, we began with the scene where he returns from the pool, and I'm similar to, "Gracious, have you met Gérard?" We knew the part since we read the content, however we hadn't met the entertainer. Also, when he came in with his robe and his champagne jug and this energy, we were unable to keep a straight face. We truly would giggle at each take and resemble, "Stunning, he is so impeccably cast. This is stunning." And Christophe [Guybet], the entertainer, is very interesting, in actuality, too. Along these lines, it was truly difficult to experience that scene.

Photograph credit: CAROLE BETHUEL/NETFLIX That sounds astonishing. The finale sort of closures with a cliffhanger. Where might you want to see Emily and Gabriel's story go from that point?

I think this is an inquiry Darren needs to reply, since he began this dramatization and I wouldn't try to contact any of his work, since he's so acceptable at it. Everything I can let you know is that I trust that every one of them will discover a state of joy and comprehension, on the grounds that there's a lot to be talked about.

Is there anything that you might want to see from Gabriel if there was another season?

I trust he will get a pristine café where he will have the option to sprout and do what he needs. Since he was still somewhat choked in the former one. I simply need to see his imaginative psyche at work in another spot, sponsored up by Antoine. Also, as far as connections, as I let you know, Darren is coordinating everything, and we're simply playing the instruments.

There was an adoration triangle all through between Gabriel, Emily, and Camille. Is there anything you examined with Lily and Camille Razat about what you needed to pass on with these entwining romantic tales?

All things considered, I realize that Camille truly tried to play Camille [the character], as though she recognized what was happening [between Emily and Gabriel].

She truly played that card and left everything open. She planted the seed so anything could occur in Season 2. What's more, I knew Camille from the past task, just before Emily in Paris. So we were practically similar to siblings and sisters. Also, Lily, we just associated right from the start. The last tryout I had, I got into a room and we did two or three scenes, and we in a flash fortified. She's so giving and liberal that it's hard not to coexist with her. She's an expert. Furthermore, I was actually a superior entertainer and a superior man in the wake of working with her.

Since Emily is an influencer, web-based media has a major presence on the show. It is safe to say that you are a major web-based media or Instagram client by and by?

Not generally. No. I like to post a little aesthetic picture now and again. Instagram was more an approach to speak with certain companions, such as being on WhatsApp or whatever else. Yet, presently, it's extraordinary. I have many messages. I don't have the foggiest idea whether I can keep up. So it's somewhat overpowering. Yet, I like the consideration. It's consistently ideal to feel approved and cherished, and I'm attempting to explore this as well as could be expected.

You mean messages from new fans and individuals who watch the show?

Truly. Generally. Since my Instagram wasn't so insane before that.

What's more, do you set aside the effort to peruse every last bit of it, or do you only sort of take it for what it is and let it stay there?

You know, individuals consistently advise me not to get assimilated into this dark opening of noting everyone, since it'll be perpetual. Yet, since the show just dispatched and it was so generally welcomed and I got so much love and regard and great criticism, I feel committed, as it were, to give back however much as could be expected to the fans, since they've been astonishing and it wouldn't be conceivable without them. So I'm simply doing what I can, yet, you know, it would take more than one individual to answer every one of those messages.

Photograph credit: STEPHANIE BRANCHU/NETFLIX Looking through a ton of the responses on Twitter and Instagram, you're, similar to, the Internet's new most loved sentimental love intrigue and sweetheart. Is it awkward to feel like more eyes are on you? How are you managing all the consideration?

I figure the circumstance couldn't be better, since I'm in Budapest. I'm in my lodging in isolate, I'm going from set to my room, and I'm pretty separated. I don't generally feel what's happening. It feels pretty dreamlike when my companions outline for me, "Everyone discusses you," and stuff that way, since this isn't my existence right now. It's virtual to me, you know?

So I simply feel appreciative for the consideration and the adoration. It's lowering, since it happened so quick. I can't feel any extraordinary. It's simply been longer than seven days, and my life is as yet the equivalent I actually feel the equivalent. However, it's a serious excursion.

What do you believe Gabriel's Instagram wo

[miss-aligned]

Coming to Terms

Ugh. I’ve been battling with this one for too long. I’ve rewritten it more times than a really care to admit. I’m just going to put it here and hope it isn’t terrible. Hehe.

(On AO3, if you prefer!)

The Normandy was oddly calm for the moment. A majority of Kaidan’s most vivid memories of this ship, including its predecessor, involved almost unfathomable levels of activity. It was typically organized chaos in response to enemy activity, stealthy strike missions, or straight up fleeing danger. Everyone had a place, everybody knew their job, and they executed those activities with practiced accuracy. Now, all was quiet. They were mid-flight to the next destination and he couldn’t help but remember the more peaceful side of being here that he’d nearly forgotten… of being home.

The door to the med bay slid open to allow him access and he was surprised to see a familiar figure leaning against one of the examination tables, arms crossed, engaged in a conversation with the doctor.

“I don’t know why you insisted on wearing that battered armor all the time, either. Thank goodness you’ve found something new,” Dr. Chakwas commented with a chuckle.

“That was good armor,” Garrus replied, his mandibles flaring playfully. “I kind of wish I had it with me now. Sort of a good luck charm, you know? I survived multiple assassination attempts, a rocket to the face, fights with thresher maws and reapers, and even a trip through the Omega 4 Relay. I’d say it did pretty well.”

Dr. Chakwas sighed heavily, shaking her head and waving Kaidan to come in. “I suppose. I wish you’d at least gotten it repaired, then. I’m sure Cerberus would have coughed up a few credits so you could look presentable. Besides, is it wise to travel alongside Commander Shepard with broken gear?”

Kaidan followed Karin’s gesture, taking a seat on the examination table beside Garrus. As much as he tried to convince himself that everything had happened for a reason, even hearing the name ‘Cerberus’ sent an unpleasant chill down his spine.

“Maybe my intention was to look like some turian hobo just to annoy Cerberus,” Garrus joked. “And I’ll have you know it’s perfectly fine to travel with Shepard while wearing damaged armor. She draws the majority of the enemy fire.”

Kaidan opened his mouth to argue that last point, but closed it again with a shrug of his shoulders when he realized it was true.

“Well I’m glad to see you here with better armor, and I’m very impressed with the way your wound has healed,” Dr. Chakwas offered with a grin as she tapped on her omni-tool in preparation for her next patient.

“Aww, thanks, doctor.” Garrus turned his attention on the new arrival. “How are you feeling these days, Kaidan?”

“Fine, actually,” Kaidan was as surprised by the outcome of the Mars fiasco as anyone else. “Dr. Chakwas just asked me to stop in every once in a while to make sure I don’t rattle my implant again.”

Karin snickered. “Rattle. Your use of that term never fails to amuse me, Major.”

A little half-smile rose to his lips. He knew things had been far more complicated than that, but somehow it was easier to face his own mortality by toning down the severity just a little. Plus, it helped other people to brush it off and treat him like a normal human being. That’s what he was, after all. He didn’t want anyone to forget.

“Hey,” Kaidan began, looking to change the subject if he could. “Mind if I ask you two something?”

“Shoot,” came a quick reply from Garrus. Karin simply nodded.

“Did you like working for Cerberus?”

“We never worked for Cerberus, Major,” The doctor quickly answered.

“We worked with them… sort of… but really we were working for Shepard. I don’t think Cerberus was too interested in formally employing a turian, a krogan, a quarian, a drell, or an asari, anyway. They put up with it because Shepard called the shots.” Garrus seemed rather amused with the memory of it all.

Kaidan nodded. He wasn’t sure what to say in response because he honestly wasn’t sure how he felt about it. He’d heard Shepard’s exasperated explanations and chatted a bit about it with the other crew without getting too deep into anyone’s motivations, but he was still having trouble understanding why anyone who might have been aboard the Normandy back in the days of chasing Saren across the galaxy might have thrown their lot in with Cerberus. Even if Shepard was the driving force, it made him sick to his stomach.

“You met some of the scientists recently, right? And Jacob?” Garrus asked. He seemed to read the discomfort written in Kaidan’s body language. The Major straightened up and tried to mask it once more, though he was mindful not to obstruct Dr. Chakwas’ readings.

“Yeah. I’m glad we were able to get them out and away from Cerberus.”

“They were normal people, right? I mean, Jacob probably doesn’t count, since he up and dove into a suicide mission with us, but overall, they were just people doing their jobs.”

“They... seemed okay. I admit that I was expecting them to be far more… extremist… than they were.”

Garrus chuckled. “Not everyone is the Illusive Man, Kaidan. Some of them were psychotic, don’t get me wrong, but a vast majority of them were good people who didn’t have a better option at the time.”

“Joker, for example,” Dr. Chakwas interjected. “He’s a great pilot who was immediately grounded by the Alliance after the SR-1 went down. You and I both know he was born to fly. Cerberus gave him that ability and a rather fine frigate to go with it.”

“I was holed up on Omega, counting the minutes before I was bound to be overrun by mercenaries. I’ve never been so happy to see that damned N7 logo as I was that day when I was lining up my shots. All things considered, Shepard and Cerberus were a much better alternative than being shot, beaten, killed, and shoved out a station airlock,” Garrus stared up at the ceiling of the med bay for a long moment as though lost in memory. Kaidan was inclined to believe the severity of the tale.

“I joined the new Normandy because Commander Shepard asked it of me,” Karin added as she recorded the results of her scans on his implant. “A far less exciting story, I suppose, but it’s true. There were times when I questioned my decision, and, perhaps, the decisions of Shepard and of Cerberus, but I can safely say now that I don’t truly regret it. It solidified the gravity of our current situation in my mind and, well, without Cerberus, Shepard wouldn’t be here today and we’d be in a far bigger mess than this.”

Kaidan didn’t want to imagine the state of things without Shepard in the picture. It had always brought him pain. Living the reality of it was worse. At one point, he’d thought it would get better after he met her on Horizon and saw her with his own two eyes. Knowing she was alive and well should have brought him some relief, but it didn’t. He thought often of her. He worried for her. He missed her. He was scared of her… or rather, of the power she still held over his poor, broken heart.

But then it came to light, in a hospital room on the Citadel, that the feelings were mutual.

Now Kaidan was left to try sorting through all his thoughts and feelings. He tried to make sense of Cerberus and Project Lazarus and collectors and reapers and Shepard and decide for himself where to go from here. His heart knew, of course, but his mind needed some convincing.

“That’s true,” he quietly responded at last, a subtle bitterness tinging his words.

“Trust me, I get more frustrated than anyone when things aren’t black and white,” Garrus commented. “But there’s a hell of a lot of gray here. As much as I’d like to say that Cerberus is worthless and that all the people working for them are monsters, I know that they’re not.”

“Let’s be frank, here,” Dr. Chakwas began as she turned her attention away from the results skirting across her omni-tool to study the two comrades before her. “Few appreciate the Systems Alliance. Not many like the Council, either. No one enjoys having Cerberus around and Cerberus itself hates everyone else. It is we lucky individuals who are caught in the middle and have to deal with it all because we have no other choice.”

“Yay,” Garrus dryly responded with a shrug of his shoulders.

“If I may be so bold as to make a suggestion, Major,” the doctor continued, shutting down her omni-tool and patting him on the shoulder. “Remember the real enemy out there and be understanding of the difficult choices people have to make when they feel they’ve been backed into a corner. You and Shepard were close once. Don’t judge her too harshly for what she had to do when things were spiraling out of her control.”

Kaidan could feel the heat rising to his cheeks. He wasn’t sure why, but he suddenly felt like a shy teenager who just realized that someone knew about his crush. It was a strange sensation that he hadn’t experienced in years. Oddly enough, it had been over the same person the last time as it was now.

“That was more than one suggestion, Doc,” Garrus noted with a chuckle. He didn’t seem the least bit surprised by her forwardness.

“My apologies,” she responded with a coy smile. “I’ve never been terribly shy about speaking my mind.”

Had the bold words come from anyone else, Kaidan might have reacted defensively. Angrily, even. But now, he sat in stunned silence, unsure of what to do or say.

Garrus uncrossed his arms and placed a reassuring hand on Kaidan’s opposite shoulder. “For what it’s worth, Alenko, I agree. And good luck with that.” He turned with a slight chuckle and vanished through the doorway.

“I don’t… I mean… Shepard and I…” Kaidan began, not sure where he was going with his fumbling words. Nowhere, apparently.

“Need I remind you that there’s a physiological response when you’re thinking about someone in particular, Major?” Karin asked, her eyes filled with unexpected sympathy. She turned her gaze to her omni-tool for a moment as she continued, “I can show you your results here if you don’t--”

“No,” Kaidan answered with a small sigh. “No, that’s alright. I get it.”

“If I recall correctly, you were confused once when you were watching the same reaction occur with Shepard while checking her over after a mission, years ago.”

A wistful grin crept across his lips. He’d nearly forgotten about that. A question rose to mind just then, but he pressed his lips together suddenly to keep it from escaping. It would have been a breach of confidentiality to know if Shepard still exhibited those signs after all this time. Given that conversation they’d had at the hospital, he knew  that she probably did. All in a moment, he felt a bit more comfortable letting his heart speak louder than his mind.

“Physically, everything looks good, Major,” Dr. Chakwas announced. Kaidan understood the rest of the statement that she hadn’t said aloud. Mentally and emotionally, he needed to sort things out for himself.

Wary of Cerberus though he was, he’d heard and seen enough to understand at last that nothing was so clear-cut. Suffering in regret, resentment, and misery hadn’t done him or Shepard any favors.

He could fix this.

He was finally ready to try.

#Mass Effect #me3 #shenko #shenkofic #Shepard x Kaidan #shenko implied #Kaidan Alenko #Karin Chakwas #Garrus Vakarian #i tried #writing

[pyrorawr]

Old Feelings

Planning to add a bit more to this, but a short fic that takes place shortly before they arrive at the Cerberus Headquarters in ME3. Kaidan's worries in regards to Shepard's previous affiliation with Cerberus resurface and confronts Shepard about it.

AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10452159

~~~~

“I think it is best if you sit this one out Shepard..” Kaidan had said. His voice had rang low, as if he had partially hoped they would get lost in the constant humming of the Normandy’s engine. “What if this is what Cerebus really wanted and they have something in you wired to go rogue or something?”

They were standing in the middle of Observatory room. Kaidan’s gaze avoided Shepard’s as the infinite amount of stars, ranging in their size and distance, dimly lit their faces through the window.

~~

Minutes before, Kaidan had called Shepard to speak to her about infiltrating Cerberus Headquarters. He believed that he had what he wanted to say all prepared, but the moment she walked in, his body shook with underlying nervousness. He took a deep breath before shuffling his hands deep into his pockets as he braced himself for what was to come.

Shepard had noticed something was up. She saw that he had ran his fingers through his hair at least a few dozen times, leaving it a disheveled, slight mess of his curls. It led her to think something had him in turmoil.  He had stumbled his words, but managed to voice what seemed like his ongoing concern of Shepard’s affiliation with Cerebus.

It shocked Shepard that this topic was coming up again. They had talked about Cerebus. He had accepted her for who she was, regardless of her past. He believed in her. Or so she thought.  

“Kaidan, what happened with Cerebus is in the past. Yes, they rebuilt me. But never in the time I ‘worked’” She air quoted the word, hoping he’d understand. “With them, did they ever have control of me.. I am myself. I will be fine. You know this.. You know me..” She pleaded.

His eyes flickered across the room. Confusion swirled in circles around in him, but regardless stuck to his probing. “But what if that’s what they want you to think??” He shook his head. “We simply can’t risk it..”

Unable to meet the gaze of the man whose words just pierced her heart, Shepard turned away.  Tears began to swarm and burn at the corners of her eyes. She was never one to let her emotions show, in fact she was known for her resilience in dealing with tough calls and difficult decisions. But this was Kaidan.. The one person who has seen the ins and out of her. The deepest part of her being. And quite simply, the last person she would expect to hurt her.

She wasn’t sure of what to think anymore. He may well be the Major, and the second human Specter, but she was the Commander of the Normandy, and he still had to listen to her orders regardless. However, it deeply pained her that the man that she loved, the man that claimed loved her as well, was doing this to her.. Was saying these words. Talking as if she was about to turn into a monster.

She could feel the hurt begin to travel through her. Pain circling through her chest as she fought to contain her tears. She took a deep breath, before turning to face him once more.

“What else do you want me to say Kaidan..?” She felt her voice rise, taking her by surprise. “To make you believe that I am who I am?” A huff escaped her lips, her demeanor suddenly turned cold. “I mean I thought you believed me.. Shit I thought you loved me. ” Shepard then turned towards the door, her eyes fixated on the ground.

She stopped as soon as the sliding doors opened at her approach. Her eyes slowly losing the battle of keeping the tears she’s desperately tried to keep away.

“My mistake. Guess I was wrong..” She let her words hang in the vast room as she made her way towards the Normandy.

~~

Shepard felt her heart drop into the empty abyss of her stomach as the door closed swiftly behind her. As soon as she was out of his sight, she felt her shoulders drop, and the burning of the incoming tears as they threaten to come loose. She was unsure of where to go from there, her body was gently shaking and stood frozen to the ground. But part of her wanted to just inch her way towards her cabin, where she could lose herself in the clawing emotions she thought she had shut tight.

But part of Shepard also craved for a shoulder to lean on. She sighed as she slowly urged her body towards the elevator. She knew her relationship with Kaidan had hit numerous obstacles before, some seemingly permanent than others, but after surpassing them, she had failed to think that something else could rock their core again. That could hint at the very possibility of an end to them. Her mind wandered to all those months she spent without him at her side. How each and everyday she ached for him, for his mesmerizing touch that left her with a sense of calamity, of feeling safe in his embrace. How each day without him felt like beyond hell, but that she had no other choice, if it meant assuring his safety. But this, Kaidan blantaly disbelieving her very existence, after all they had shared together, hurt her worse, and immensely deeper than all those times without him had.

The elevator opened at Shepard’s initial call, and as she dragged herself in. Without looking, she pressed her finger against one of the elevator's button and felt the kick as it begun to descend. It was only when the elevator came to a stop that she looked up and noticed she had picked to go to the Shuttle Bay. She silently hoped that James had left to do his routine workouts and that Steve was there, immersing himself in the Kodiak as her close friend often did. They had gotten closer shortly after Shepard had opened about her past, and her obstacles with Kaidan and the rest of the galaxy and when Steve revealed to her about how he lost his husband. They became someone they could each lean on for support, on good and on bad days. Whether on the battlefield, or in the mess hall joined with a couple of beers. He always knew what to say when she needed someone, and he wanted to be there for her, just as she had been for him.

“Ah, almost done fixing these kinetic barriers.” Said the familiar voice as Shepard stepped out. She couldn’t help herself but smile through her troubling emotions at his never ending enthusiasm when it came to the Kodiak. It wasn’t just something he loved to do, but it helped him stay focused, and kept him from replaying what had happened to his husband.

“Hey Steve.” “Shepard!” Steve wiped his hands on a small, scrunched up towel, threw it across his shoulder and turned to face her. “What brings you to my humble abode?” His joking expression instantly turned into concern as her examined her face. “Everything okay…?”

Shepard sighed as she leaned against the small console they used for ordering supply lines. “Frankly, I don’t know anymore…” She turned away from him as she attempted to fight off her tears that burned to be freed. “Kaiden… Doesn’t trust me anymore.”

“What do you mean? I thought things were going good with you two.”

Shepard rubbed her eye and crossed her arms. “I know, me too… But you know that Cerberus mission we’re on our way to?”

Steve nodded.

“Kaidan doesn’t think I should go. He thinks that I’ll… That I’ll go rogue…” Without realizing it, Shepard had begun to pace. “I’m fine. I tried to reassure him that I am myself and that nothing will happen.”

Steve shook his head in disbelief. “And he still didn’t believe you?”

She sighed. “No… He was still fixated on the fact that I could all of the sudden turn into a monster… Into one of them…” Shepard wanted to fight what her mind echoed throughout. But maybe it was right. “Maybe..” Her gaze landed on the ground as she voiced her thoughts.

“Maybe Kaidan never really got over what happened after Horizon..” Her eyes slowly rose back up to meet Steve’s. They were now a light shade of pink from the constant fighting back of her tears.  “And it can quite be that he may never will… Maybe this is the end of us... As much as it pains me.. Especially after everything we’ve been through.. But maybe it’s for the best...”

~~~

Kaidan gently punched the window that overlooked the seemingly quiet galaxy. The conversation didn’t go the way he had hoped. He knew that it wouldn't been an easy conversation, but he didn’t expect Shepard to storm off. Or say what she said.

“My mistake. Guess I was wrong..”

Her voice kept playing over and over in his head as he tried to piece together what had happened.

“Couldn’t she see I was trying to protect her..?” His mind tried and tried to convince himself that he had done the right thing. However, each minute that passed without Shepard’s presence next to his own made him wonder that maybe he had done more harm than the good he intended. He had to admit. Her previous affiliation with Cerberus still made him feel nervous, but his mistake was that he let that fear take over him. He didn’t mean to make it seem that he didn’t trust her, it was them he didn’t trust. He just wanted to make sure they couldn’t take her away from him again.

He let out a tired sigh. “I guess I should’ve thought about a better way to bring this up...” He turned once more towards the galaxy, his gaze reflecting the billion of stars that stared straight back at him. It all looked peaceful. And the humming of the Normandy gave the view a serene feel to it. One wouldn’t think that there was a war in the midst of a view like this. Shaking his head, he turned toward the door. Kaidan knew he was pushing back the inevitable, but he was hoping that somewhere in the stars, laid an answer, the right words to apologize and convince Shepard that he still loved her, and that regardless of what happened, that he wanted to be by her side. That’s when he realized there’s nothing else and better to do, than just admit he was wrong, and pray that she believes him. He took a final, deep breath before rushing out in search for the woman his heart desperately ached for.

~~~

“Hey.. .Don’t think that..” Steve reached out and gently squeezed her shoulder. “You said it yourself, you and Kaidan have gone through more obstacles than anyone could imagine. You guys always find a way. Call it fate, call it destiny, call it love. But that’s what makes you two the strongest couple I know.” He sighed. “I know it hurts right now.. And from what I know of Kaidan, he’d do absolutely everything possible to protect you. Maybe this is simply what this is. Maybe Kaidan was just afraid of something happening to you in the Cerberus mission, and he just didn’t know how to bring it up properly.”

Shepard sighed. “You...Think so...?” She couldn’t imagine what her life would be without Kaidan. Despite how pained she felt after their talk, she knew her heart laid with him. But she also knew there was only so much she could do, so much she could say to make him believe that she was none other than herself.

Steve offered Shepard his sincerest smile. “I’m sure that’s what it is.” And engulfed her in a warm embrace. “And if for the crazy chance that it isn’t, then he definitely doesn’t know that he’s missing.”

Shepard returned a small smile as her gaze shifted from his to the grey tiled floors below her. It was normal for her mind to be juggling a million things at once, but having Kaidan’s concerns added in made her head spin with conflicting emotions.

“Plus.” She barely heard Cortez as he broke up her thoughts. “There is always other people out there.” He added half-heartedly. It made Shepard wonder if he partially was telling that to himself just as much as he was telling her.

Shepard slowly nodded. “That’s true.” She wondered if she’d ever be able to find anyone who filled her soul with so much love and happiness as Kaidan does. She felt her heart began to crack in pieces at the mere thought. She gently shook her head in an attempt to steer the thought away and looked back at Steve.

“Well, I suppose I’ll know soon enough…” She sighed. “It’s only a matter of time before we bump into each other.”

“And just know, that when that happens, my door will always be open, should you need someone to lean on, eat ice cream with, or maybe, just maybe even drive the shuttle.”

Shepard managed to chuckle. “I’ll get you to let me drive it one of these days, Cortez.”

~~~

Kaidan made his way towards the elevator, and stuffed his hands deep inside his pockets as he tried to come up with what he’d say to her. He felt stupid for letting past conflictions get the better of him. For letting them get between what he and Shepard shared. He stepped inside as the doors opened before him, but realized he had no idea where in the ship she was. She could be in her cabin just as much as she could be anywhere else in the ship. He sighed as he pressed the button for her cabin. He felt his stomach churn as he anticipated what was to come. Would she forgive him? Had he crossed a line and that she now wanted nothing to do with him? He bit his lip. Shepard was everything to him. Especially after he lost her the first time around. It made him value her over anything else. It made him treasure each and every moment he had with her. From the nights he spent at her side, stroking her hair as she slept soundly in his arms, to the rushed kisses between missions,to the long, ever lasting ones. His thought broke apart at the beep of the elevator, alerting him that he was at his destination. He quietly stepped out, wondered if she was inside. “Shepard…?”

He heard something stir on the other side of the door and took a deep breath.

~~~

Shepard thanked Steve for letting her rant about Kaidan and felt somewhat better. She made her way back to the elevator and went up towards her cabin. She was glad she gotten her reports done early, for it now meant she could have a little down time. With nothing but her, her bed, and the lulling sounds of the Normandy. Maybe she could sleep her feelings away. However, she knew the moment she laid down, Kaiden’s faint familiar scent would appear on her pillow. She’d see his t-shirt she’s borrowed so many times, sprawled across her couch. Or stumble across his portrait that sat steadily on her desk, next to her laptop. She sighed as she urged herself inside, knowing that anywhere she went on the Normandy, she’d still feel Kaidan’s presence. She changed into her old N7 sweats and a tank top and was about to crawl into bed when she heard a familiar voice call her name.

Her body froze for a moment, unsure of what to think, or do. She knew they’d bump into each other at some point, but she didn’t think he’d come to her, especially this soon. She nervously tucked a hair strand behind her ear and inched towards her door.

“Coming.” She said softly.

Shepard opened the door to indeed see Kaidan standing on the other side. He looked nervous. His hair looked like he had ran over it with his fingers at least a dozen times and his hands kept shuffling in his pockets.

“Hey Shepard, can I come in?”

His voice was low, almost pleading. It made Shepard want to rush to his side and ask him what’s wrong, but their early conversation still danced around in her mind.

“Yeah of course, come on in.” She whispered.

“Thanks.”

Shepard nodded and followed Kaidan back into her room. He took a seat on her couch and motioned for her to sit next to him. Shepard hesitated for a second, she wanted to stay mad at him, to not let him get away with what he did. But she also craved to be next to him. She sighed, put her emotions aside and took her spot next to him.

“Shepard… Listen…” He slowly reached out for her hand and gently wrapped his fingers around hers. He could feel her familiar warmthness as it traveled through him.  “I know I said things I shouldn’t have… I… I let my feelings and fears about Cerberus get to me and all it led to was me hurting the most important person in my life.” His lowered his gaze away from hers. “I thought I was protecting you, when in reality I was just alienating myself from you and I should’ve realized that.” He squeezed her hand and looked back up. “Shepard, you are enough. You’ve always been enough. I should’ve never doubted you and damn straight I will never do again. I love you Shepard…” Kaidan gave her a weak smile. “I love all of you sweetheart. I love who you are today, and who you were yesterday. Regardless of who you worked for.”

#shenko #Commander Shepard #Kaidan Alenko #major alenko #steve #cortez #mass effect #writing

[ramblinganthropologist]

Writober 2019 1 - Missing Moment

Summary: Ok, there is no way you can be dead for 2 years and wake up looking perfect. Alistair needs a hand after coming back from the dead. Luckily, Bo’s pretty good with a pair of scissors.

---

It was so good, having Bo back in his-

“Get over here, you look like shit.”

Never mind, he took it back. He took it all back.

It had been a few hours since Alistair Shepard had settled back onto the recreated Normandy. Something about all the yellow and racist logos was off putting to say the least, but that was what spray paint and a boring night were for later. He had just entered his quarters, expecting to get some probably not needed rest, but was stopped by an intruder sitting at his desk.

When had Bo gotten up here?

“Guess I'm not the only one who can get up here then.” Alistair paused to check how his new hamster was settling into his habitat. The fish tank had taken some modifications, but now there was more than enough room for Saren to burrow, eat, and glare daggers at him. Clearly, the little guy had inherited his mood from his first caretaker. “What's up?”

Bo stood up from his chair and rolled it to a clean patch of floor. “You need a haircut. Who the hell was handling that while you were out?”

Not him – he was dead.

Alistair felt his face heat as he played with one of the long strands hanging by his shoulder. Sure, the ends were a little split, but it wasn't that bad. “I don't know, ask Miranda. She was the one who put me back together.”

Poorly – she had left in some less than essential features such as GAD and a functional uterus. Why she had kept those in he had no fucking idea. They were going to have a little talk about that later, once he survived whatever Bo was planning for him.

“Bet it was her. Asshole has it all uneven in the back.” Bo tapped the chair again. “Well, you coming or do I have to put your ass in the chair?”

She was worse than a drill sergeant some days. Still, Alistair didn't feel like arguing. He maneuvered his newly built body into the chair and accepted the towel she tossed to cover his clothes. She already had her tools out, but he didn't see clippers there – just scissors.

“Not going for the Commander Shepard look this time?”

Behind him, the large woman snorted and picked up a comb instead.”You're dead, why the fuck do you have to listen to the Alliance's regulations? Might as well keep it long and piss somebody off.”

She paused, and he felt her hand on her head. “Unless you want it short. Could probably still figure something out to piss them off if you want.”

Alistair frowned as he looked down at his feet. With everything going on, his head was swimming. After all, he had been dead until a few hours ago. Two years had passed in that time, and just thinking of it made him sick to his stomach.

Was he still himself? Miranda had mentioned she wished they had put a chip into his brain, but what had she done while he was out? For all he knew, just under the surface was... well, he didn't want to think about it.

“No. You can keep it long.”

“Excellent.” She started combing with a steady hand. “I'm going to kill Miranda when I'm finished. You think a perfect bitch like her would know how to cut a damn straight line.”

He snorted despite himself. “I thought straight lines when cutting was a bad idea?”

“Like you fucking know.” He got a light tap to the back of his head as a reprieve. “Now don't move or I might cut your ear.”

Right – still as the dead. He was an expert in that now.

Bo began trimming, checking the length as she worked. The hand on his head held a few new scars and some interesting new calluses to say the least. He traced the new paths of lighter skin in his memory, checking to see what he didn't remember. There were a lot to say the least.

“You get those from the arena?”

After all, he'd found her wrestling krogan under an alias. If anyone could leave a permanent mark on Bo Peep Shepard, it would be a freaking krogan. Lesser species wished they had the capabilities. Of course she had left 24-0, so maybe even the krogan couldn't stand up to her might. From what he had seen when she'd bounced a young krogan across the fighting pit, she had well earned her nickname as the angry pink monster.

That name was so her... had she thought it up?

Bo made a thoughtful noise as she continued cutting. “Yeah. You should have seen the other guy, though.”

She sent a few uneven strands of red to the floor around his feet. “Guess they'll have to have someone else be the stand in champ until I get back.”

“I don't think that'll be a problem, there's plenty of people who would want to beat a Spectre's record.” The words still felt weird on his new tongue, as if he had to relearn how to use them. “They might call you back for a title bout at this rate.”

He couldn't see her expression, but the flex of her muscles when she tensed told him she was more than ready for that day. Somewhere on Omega, there was a krogan who had no idea what was coming to them. He almost felt bad for them.

Almost... but when you have four freaking testicles it's pretty hard to pity someone. Not that he was jealous or anything.

Bo shifted, letting down a new layer of hair as she worked. A few quiet minutes passed, with only the snip of the scissors to pass the time. It was a quiet rhythm that Alistair leaned into, eyes closing. Maybe he needed that nap after all.

“Huh...”

The tickling of hair against his face caused the reborn Spectre to open his eyes – not that it was useful. All he could see was red. Bo had shifted to his fringe and was doing... something with a comb. Was she looking for something?

Movement was out of the question, but his mouth still worked fine. “Problem?”

“Yeah, I was going to do a side part but I forgot you have that eye now.” His fringe momentarily lifted. “It's fucking weird to see you without those scars.”

Alistair's reply was almost instant. “It's fucking weird to see you, let's be honest.”

This time, it was Bo who snorted as she left him back to his ginger blindness. Her fingers brushed up against the raw skin stretched thin over implants along his jaw. They were still too open and glowed a sinister red even when he wasn't doing anything. They were all over his body still – a product of being brought back too early.

Honestly... they creeped him out.

“Well, least you traded your scars for something cool.” Bo muttered this absentmindedly as she parted his fringe a little more off to the side. “Though creepy ass evil cyborg red isn't really your color.”

He rolled his eyes in response – the new one still felt weird. “Well, I'd hack them to change them to blue if I could, but I think that would probably kill me.”

“Could also trip the secret testosterone reserve Miranda built in as a fail safe.” The scissors were back, trimming his fringe neat. “Then again, if she puts you together as badly as she cuts hair, you might fall apart in a stiff breeze.”

Alistair could almost imagine his head rolling down the docks, someone chasing after it to put it back on his body. It was morbid, but he found himself laughing. The laugh scraped his insides and loosened some things up Miranda had left behind in her rebuild. Now it felt a little more... like himself, he supposed.

“Well, I can trust you to collect my body parts, can't I?”

Bo smirked as she finished her work. “Yeah, but don't ask me to put you back together. That's your area of expertise.”

Hopefully his left hand would still be attached – perish the thought otherwise.

She patted him on the shoulder, her sign she was finished. Alistair sighed in relief and brushed some stray hair from his shoulders as he stood. He caught his reflection in polished metal and evaluated it with a critical eye.

Well, critical eyes. He had two again. That still weirded him out, almost as much as the glowing red implants that cast a ruddy light on his already pink-toned skin. For Bo, it would've worked maybe. On him, he just looked silly. At least his hair looked decent, a little longer than shoulder length and parted neatly off to the side so he could see. It was completely against Alliance regulations, but at that point he couldn't really care.

“You are a wizard with scissors, Bo.” He brushed it back with his hand to check the implants along his jaw. “Eh... might try hacking those first.”

The large woman snickered as she walked over to check her work. “Whatever you say, pretty boy. Just let me know when we're getting ready to dock on Omega. I left some shit behind and I need to get it.”

Sure, they could do that right before they plunged into enemy territory to find the mysterious Archangel that left Bo in stitches whenever he mentioned them. Alistair shook his head and watched as she left – leaning him to clean up the mess.

That's how it always worked. He shouldn't have been surprised but... well, death numbs some senses.

“Thanks, Bo.” Another head shake, and off Alistair went to go find a broom to clean up. Maybe it was the hair, but he felt lighter as he walked. He didn't quite feel like himself yet, but it was a decent start to getting there.

Now if he could only find that secret testosterone reservoir without making his head pop off in the process.

#ramblinganthropologist's writing #writober2019 #Alistair Shepard #Bo Peep Shepard #IT BEGINS