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bigasswritingmagnet · 2 years

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When History Comes Calling Ch 14/14

“Why did you break out of C-Sec Headquarters? They were going to let you go anyway.”

“Force of habit,” Kiryn said to his feet.

They were sitting on the floor in her room, leaning against the foot of her bed. Neither of them was one for important conversations in front of other people. It had felt a little like a gauntlet, following her past her friends to get to the bedroom. Especially Vakarian, who had been trying very hard to melt Kiryn’s skull with his eyes.

“Force of habit,” Keris repeated. Kiryn had not looked directly at her since the hug. It was like trying to look at the sun, if looking at the sun caused emotional pain instead of physical.

“Yeah. As soon as she left the room I just… sort of did it. I wasn’t avoiding you,” he said, in no way being overly defensive. “I wasn’t trying to hide from you.”

“You broke out of C-Sec headquarters thirty seconds before they released you, right after they said I was there to meet you.”

“No,” he said, firmly. “I started escaping before I knew they were going to let me go. I just didn’t stop escaping when I heard them say you were there.”

“Because that’s not what you do.” She wasn’t trying to be accusatory. Or at least, he didn’t think she was trying to be. He wished he could look at her expression, try and guess what she was thinking.

“I should have known you were still alive,” she said. He made an irritated noise of disagreement. “I should have. If I’d known, I could have--”

“You couldn’t have done anything.”

“I have the fastest stealth ship in the galaxy and a team of the best soldiers alive,” she retorted, her voice bitter and determined. “I’m Commander Shepard. I could have gotten you out.”

“We’re not actually psychically linked,” he said. “I didn’t know you were alive either.”

Would things have been different if he had?

Yes. He would have spent every waking moment preparing an escape. He would have been patient, he would have waited, and he would have found a way.

But he hadn’t.

So he hadn’t.

Her hand was resting on the floor between them. He reached down and tapped the two smallest ones, where the scar should have been.

“What happened?”

She told him.

“Liar,” he said.

“Nope.”

“You can’t bring people back from the dead.”

“With four billion credits you can do just about anything. It took them two years and I’m about ten percent cybernetic implants.” Her voice was soft when she spoke again, the smile in her voice sliding away. “Sometimes I wonder.”

“You’re you,” he said, matter-of-factly.

“You haven’t seen me in fifteen years,” she protested.

“I knew you as soon as I saw you. And you knew I was me.”

“Yeah,” she said, squeezing his hand. “I did.”

Kiryn leaned against her and they sat in comfortable silence.

“Sorry I punched out your boyfriend.”

Keris chuckled.

“I was really careful not to kill him,” Kiryn said, earnestly.

“I appreciate that, thanks.”

“Does he hate me? That’s not a great first impression to make.”

“The bill from the store didn’t help.”

“Don’t tell me you’re dating a guy with no sense of humor. Although he is a turian...”

She swatted his arm.

“He’ll come around. For the first hour, everybody though you were an assassin who had been sneaking around my apartment for a month without them noticing.”

“I am an assassin who’s been sneaking around your apartment for a month without them noticing.”

She swatted him again.

“You know what I mean. Everybody was scared and angry and expecting the worst. Give them some time to calm down and get adjusted to the situation.”

“So they all hate me?”

“They don’t hate you,” Keris said, with a very familiar exasperation. “They just don’t know you.”

“Garrus hates me though.”

“Ohhh yes,” Keris said. “Very much so. Don’t feel too bad about it. His family doesn’t like me either.”

“Oh? The great Commander Shepard isn’t good enough for their boy?”

“His father doesn’t like Spectres. Castis thinks it’s my fault Garrus quit C-Sec and became a vigilante. He hasn’t said anything, but it’s there. And his sister’s just a brat.”

Kiryn very nearly laughed. He smiled instead, shaking his head.

“She’s not so bad,” Keris admitted. “It’s family stuff. He wasn’t around because he was helping me and…” She waved a hand. “Y’know.”

Kiryn didn’t, but he knew a sore subject when he heard one.

“Bet they never tried to shoot you though.”

“He thought you were trying to kill me, Kiryn. Cut him some slack.”

She had her feet stretched out in front of her, and began to tap her toes together gently. In the silence, Kiryn knew what she wanted.

“Go ahead and ask,” he said.

“What?”

“Whatever it is you’re so desperate to ask me but don’t want to say.” Inwardly, he braced himself. He’d tell her whatever she wanted to know, however horrible it was. All the people he’d killed and all the ways he’d killed them, the things that had happened to him, what he’d done to his own mind to survive. Whatever she asked, he’d tell her, no matter how painful.

“Do you still like building model ships?”

He was so surprised by the question that he managed to look at her. Keris was openly worried, her eyes searching his face. Worried, nervous, and a little embarrassed.

“...what?”

“I thought maybe, if you still liked doing them, we could… we could build one together. Like we did when we were kids.” She looked away, shoulders hunching slightly. “I know it’s silly, there’s a lot going on and we have a lot to talk about but--”

He hugged her, fiercely, blinking hard as his eyes stung.

Keris didn’t want to know about Vondur, just as Kiryn hadn’t wanted to know about Commander Shepard. She wanted to know about Kiryn.

She wanted her brother.

She wanted him.

“Yeah,” he said. “I do.”

Keris hugged back just as hard, and her voice was suspiciously wet when she said “Good, because you broke my shuttle when you dropped it and you owe me a new one.”

Kiryn started to laugh. When they parted he found he could look at her without flinching, and felt as if the last fifteen years had never happened. It was finally over, for both of them, and they would never be separated again.

They sat together and talked until three in the morning, and they fell asleep holding hands, like children.

#mass effect #commander shepard #twin au

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princesspiratecat · 3 years

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The Rise and Fall of the Shepard Family Finale Part 2: Fall 1085

Part 1& Part 2

Part 3 & Part 4

Part 5 & Part 6 & Part 7

Part 8 & Part 9 & Part 10

Part 11 & Part 12 & Part 13

Part 14 & Part 15 & Part 16

Part 17 & Part 18 & Part 19

Part 20 & Part 21 & Part 22

Part 23 & Part 24 & Part 25

Part 26 & Part 27 & Part 28

Part 29 Finale Part 1

“Llywelyn? His name is Llywelyn?” Frances was incredibly confused. “Where did you get these letters?”

“Under the bed. Morwena found them while she was cleaning. Please continue.”

Llywelyn & Algarda

According to the seven letters stashed away in the box, they had both been very young and had met while Llywelyn had served as a mercenary soldier under Aélgarda’s father, a Saxon Ealdorman that had died by the hand of the bastard King in 1067. Both of them had been in their prime and Aélgarda was considered something of a ginger-haired beauty. There were expectations that she would make a grand marriage.

Gwendolyn had heard her father talk about his time fighting for the Saxons before. Her mother had also said that her father had been a fine soldier. He was well respected and handsome, dangerous with a sword, and had a promising career ahead of him.

They had danced together during several feasts at her father’s estate in Chester, and eventually became clandestine lovers. They knew her father would never allow such a match to take place, as there had already been a match made for Aélgarda by the time they met. But the man in question was never mentioned again after the second letter.

They continued their affair for a little over two years, but he was gone most of the time. He eventually got her with child.

Shortly after, he had been sent up north to fight off Norse raiders, and he promised to come back for her and marry her as soon as he was able. Sometime after his departure she wrote that she had suffered a miscarriage, and after six months, he still had not returned. There were no more letters after that.

After they had read them all, and then read them again, they both took some time to digest what had been written. There seemed to be more questions than answers within each letter. Had Llywelyn followed Aélgarda, even though they were both already married? Was Frédérique the daughter of Llywelyn? Had they continued their affair after Gwendolyn’s mother had died? Together, Frances and Gwendolyn tried their best to sort out the pieces of the puzzle and make them fit into a kind of timeline that might give them answers.

“My father talked about his days in Chester on more than one occasion. Is it near Wales?”

“Yes. It’s near the border of Whales, west of here.”

“So, the man in the letters must be my father. Although my father couldn’t read, so how could he have read these? A third person would have had to have been involved, and they would have needed to be very discreet. That’s quite a risk to take!”

“I agree. Yet it happens all the time, you’d be surprised at how many Nobles can’t read. And yet, I would have taken the same risk if I knew I would not see you for months at a time.”

Frances knew that in 1066 Aélgarda ran off to marry Marcelle and gave birth to Frédérique the same year, which was when Gwendolyn had also been born. They journeyed to the Humber River in 1070 from Rotherham, a small market town. Frances had only been two and Gwendolyn four. Unlike Frances, Gwendolyn remembered the journey to Grimsby, and she remembered what had come after.

“It could not have been mere coincidence that your family arrived here around the same time, and in the same location, as my family. Especially considering how long of a journey it is,” he said.

They both wondered on what grounds Llywelyn had sought her out. Was it because they wanted to be together, or had he been looking for employment? Most of the great men Llywelyn had served were already dead or had had their lands seized by the crown. So it was a real possibility that he sought her out for protection, especially since she had married a Norman man.

“He needed work. I remember we had to sell one of his beloved swords just to have enough to eat. It was a desperate time.”

The other possibility was that he knew Frédérique was his daughter and wanted to be near her. Frédérique had invited Gwendolyn to their estate several times, and each time Llywelyn had accompanied her. He could have watched her from afar, and that might have been enough for him.

“That would explain my father’s behavior. He must have thought that Frédérique was not his child, regardless of what the truth really is. Since he knew of your father’s indiscretions with Olric’s wife, he must have also questioned my brother’s parentage as well! I can’t imagine how it must have plagued his mind! The proof is in his treatment of them and their piteous inheritance.”

“Of course! And it completely explains his treatment of me, although it does also speak to his vengeful character. Now I understand why he sent us away, we were reminders of my father. Your mother wanted to protect us, for my father’s sake! ”

He nodded, remembering everything that had happened with a tinge of shame.

He could see Gwendolyn’s mind racing now, and Frances knew he would have to tell her everything that had happened the night his father had broken off their engagement. It was something he had not gotten around to doing, mostly because he had wanted them to forget. He took a deep breath.

“I fear I have not told you everything that my father said the night he cut off our engagement. But let me tell you now. According to him, she actually wanted us to marry and had pushed it from nearly the moment you arrived here.”

“What?!”

He then relayed everything that had occurred that night in it’s entirety. How his mother long considered Llywelyn an honorable man due to his serving the Welsh king. How she had not only preferred for him a match with Gwendolyn over the Merchants, but that she had actually helped to arrange it. He told her of his anger and how he had camped out under the stars, which had been the reason why he never got a chance to say goodbye.

“For a long time I didn’t think about what he meant, because I had been too angry. But then I realized she had arranged for us to walk together, alone. Do you remember all those times she said she was too busy to come with us?” Gwendolyn nodded. “Well, she knew I already liked you, and wanted you to break off the match with Oswald and marry me instead. She must have figured that time alone together would make us fall in love.”

“That is why they sent him away! According to Frédérique, he came to visit me twice, and both times he had been sent away. Did you know that?”

“No. But it hardly surprises me. For his part, I know my father initially agreed because you had a good dowry, you were an heiress of a rather small fortune. But after he had already helped himself to it, he must have gotten ahold of the letters and used them to further justify his cause. Or, he read the letters and then spent your dowry. I’m not sure which.”

Gwendolyn’s eyes bulged at this information, and she had to sit down. It was an incredible story, and one that she would not have believed if she had not have seen it unfold with her own eyes.

“So, I have been groomed me for the position of being your wife! Why did you not tell me of this before?!”

Frances shrugged. “It is a painful memory to speak of, and I didn’t want to stir up fresh anguish for you. You’ve suffered enough already. What good would have come of it?” Gwendolyn acknowledged there was merit in his reason, but chided him for not giving her the choice of knowing.

“You’re right. I should have told you when I first found you. I’m sorry.” But her mind was racing again and she hardly heard what he had said.

“He must have discovered the letters after Aélgarda’s death, as there can be no other explanation. She must have hidden them away somewhere and he, or someone else, discovered them. He refused our marriage and sent me away to get back at them both, even after they were dead!”

“Yes, he was petty and vengeful. What I want to know is what on earth made her keep them? That I cannot understand! Did your father return them? Or did she somehow get them back after he died? Maybe Llywelyn had them and my father got them after he sold your property. Have you ever seen this box before?”

“No, never. It’s too fine a box to have escaped my notice. If he did have them, he certainly would not have put them in that box. In fact, I do not recall her ever visiting us when my father was alive either. Only Marcelle came to collect rents and sup with us. He and my father used to talk business. He used to bring us cherries.”

Neither one of them spoke for some time, as they were busy going over the facts in their own heads. They both agreed that had Marcelle known then about the letters, he would not have been so kind. Although Frances didn’t agree with his father’s ways, he could at least understand him a bit better.

“He never was unfaithful to my Mother that any of us knew about, so it must have shattered him to read these letters. He had once loved her very much... as much as a man like my father can love anyone. I do not believe that any of my siblings were sired by Llywelyn- not even Frédérique. We look too much alike, and I see nothing of you in her face. Now that I think of it, you were born the same year as Frédérique, so Llywelyn would have had to have been a very busy man for all that to have happened in only a year! And it means my mother would have had to lie about losing her baby. Yet if she loved him, why would she do that? It’s quite clear from the letters that she loved him very much.”

“Unless she thought she would never see him again. She may have lied in order to marry your Father, whom had come from a noble family. Perhaps she figured that she would be better off with a well connected Norman than a poor Welsh solider. She could have been forced to do it for the greater good, to protect your sister.”

“I doubt it. But it is possible.....” a look of worry crossed his face, and then hint of anger.

In the end they both agreed that no good could possibly come from keeping the letters, as it called into question the parentage of too many. It also painted three of their four parents in a very unfavorable light.

The facts were there. Aélgarda had been lovers with not one, but two men while engaged to someone else of her father’s choosing. Llywelyn had been a seducer of women and clearly had no respect for the marital status of others. Marcelle had been a miser and a thief who sought revenge on helpless children, even children that were most likely his own.

Frances lifted the parchment to the fireplace and stared at the contents. It angered him to know that such small things had caused so much anguish to him, and his wife especially.

“Let them burn,” he sneered, as he tossed one of the letters into the fire. “I know the truth. I know what a good wife she was to him, and what she meant to us, and that’s really all that matters. She was no whore, and I won’t have anyone speak of her that way, ever!”

“Let us burn them all,” Gwendolyn said.

When the house was quiet and still, they made their way downstairs and watched as the fire flickered while hungrily devouring the remaining letters. It went unspoken, but they each understood they would tell no one of them.

“Are you ashamed of our parents?” He asked her while he watched the bright orange light reflected in her eyes. It was one of those rare moments that he really had no idea what she was thinking. He pulled up chairs for them both so they could sit awhile without being heard.

“Yes....and no. In some ways I am shocked, but in others, I feel relieved to know the answers now. Your father’s behavior towards myself had always weighed on me, because I blamed myself. Now I know it was because of nothing I did, but because of what I represented. He used my father’s status as an excuse, but it was really not the reason.” She pinched the corners of her mouth, then turned back to the fire.

“Yet the feeling that seems to make the biggest impression on me, is one of their love. Despite everything, I’m glad they had been lovers, and I’m happy that she still held my father in high regard even after his death. She wanted to honor him by honoring his children, and for that, I will always honor her.” Her heart felt easier now, and she almost found the situation humorous. Almost.

They treaded up the stairs to their chambers. It had been a long, exhausting evening.

Gwendolyn chuckled to herself. “What I really want to know is, who was the man she was originally engaged to? He must have been quite awful for her to have chosen a mercenary soldier and a Norman over a match her father preferred! The poor fellow. I feel a bit bad for him.”

Frances was more wistful. He didn’t like talking about his family, as there was so much he didn’t know, and so much to resent. Would they have survived if they had allied with the King or a powerful Norman family such as his father’s? What would it take for the King to stop his sheer brutality to the Saxon people? By the time his reign was over, would there be anything left of their language, or laws, or culture?

“Perhaps he died before anything ever came of it. The Saxons paid a heavy price to the Danes with many lives, even before the King conquered these lands. And after, all of the men on her side were completely wiped away, as if they had never existed at all. Their fortunes, that had taken decades to build, were the first thing to go. Her family was one of the wealthiest and most powerful, and now there is nothing but dust. Sometimes I wonder that I was born at all. It truly seems a miracle.”

She sensed his sadness and caressed his cheek, then embraced him.

“It is a miracle. You’re a testament to the power of love amid war. Whatever happens in the world, love always seems to have a way of burning bright, sometimes even against all odds.” He smiled at her words because they were wise beyond her years, and they were true. He thought of his mother then, and how it was love that had driven and guided her throughout most of her life.

She had gotten her wish.

#sims 2 stories #sims 2 challenges #sims 2 pictures #finale

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catherdrashepard · 3 years

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Darrow is Not Going to Die at the End of the Series Part 2

There are probably going to be at least one or two more parts depending on how much I can stop myself from blathering on. Anyway, spoilers ahead for the following: Dark Age, Hunger Games, Castlevania, Trollhunters: Rise of the Titans, Avengers Endgame, The Hobbit, Voltron, FMA, HttYD, Death Note, Madoka Magica, Merlin, Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts, HunterxHunter, Dragon Prince, He-Man (the new one), Yu Yu Hakusho, Persona 3. Mass Effect, The Hollow, Camp Cretaceous, and whatever else I can think of.

I last left off on talking about how my thoughts implied that Darrow could die at the end as long all the loose ends are tied. But, I don’t think that that’s really something that can actually happen. A lot of this is speculation on my part and really relies on what happens during the 6th book.

The first thing that came to mind was Mass Effect. The ending of Mass Effect 3 was...not very well received. I’m not going to say that I’m particularly happy with it either but I also think it fits the narrative. However, one thing to note, video games are different than books and the story that Shepard goes through is reliant on the player. Also, stories in games are going to be shorter than stories in books (for the most part, there are definitely exceptions) due to player involvement.

I’m going to start with Shepard’s first death, at the beginning of Mass Effect 2. Of course, being the second game, their death couldn’t be permanent unless BioWare switched protagonists mid trilogy. There are a few reasons, in my opinion, that Shepard was killed during the opening credits of the second game.

First of all, the combat changed between games (a lot between the first and second and only slightly between second and third), and I think Shepard’s two year absence gave a reason for a tutorial on the new combat system. They were dead and had to learn how to use new technology. This is also done between the second and third games, with a 6 month gap, but the combat only changed slightly. Secondly, having the main protagonist die really highlights the threat that the player is dealing with in the second game but, Shepard’s return also shows that they still have unfinished business and that their story isn’t over. Thirdly, I think the absence gives time for the secondary characters time to develop on their own. This is shown more with the characters who appeared in the first game but also it gives an idea of just how much of an impact Shepard had. I feel like this is a parallel to the time Darrow spent in the table between GS and MS.

Now to move on to Shepard’s more permanent death...although if you complete the game entirely (at least in the legendary edition; thank goodness I hated the battle readiness thing) there is a dubious ending where Shepard may or may not have lived. But in any case, Shepard is considered dead and their story is over. Whatever my feelings about this may be, this type of ending didn’t come out of nowhere. The main threat, the Reapers, have been dealt with in a permanent manner, or at least it’s heavily implied that they won’t be coming back. However, just because the Reapers are gone doesn’t mean there aren’t still things to be done. Specifically, recovery. Shepard very well could have been involved in this but it’s not necessary. Their story is over, they have dealt with the threat and it’s not coming back.

Darrow, on the other hand, has not finished his mission. Even if he does by the end of the next book, however, it’s a very different circumstance from Shepard. The threat in Mass Effect was a very large and tangible thing, whereas the problem Darrow faces is an ideology and the people who hold those views. Something like that doesn’t end with a large space weapon pointed directly at the threat; it permeates everything. So even if Darrow defeats Atalantia, Lysander, and whoever else, there’s most likely going to be more people who shared belief that Golds are best. Also, we saw how the Vox Populi felt about the things Darrow was doing. Darrow is essentially reconstructing an entire system of government and, no matter how correct Darrow is, there will always be people who disagree with him.

Assuming Darrow defeats the remnants of the Society, stops the Ascomanni, deals with Quicksilver and whatever he’s doing, takes care of Atlas, handles Apple, what’s left? Much like with the end of Mass Effect, what’s left is recovery. The difference between these two, however, is that while Shepard was not necessarily needed for the rebuilding, Darrow would be.

Now, both Shepard and Darrow spearheaded their respective causes, but (and this relies heavily on how the sixth RR book goes) defeating the Reapers was a group effort, utilising every species and as many resources as they can spare. No doubt the rebuilding of the entire galaxy will require the same. Not that Darrow’s goal hasn’t been similar in that regards, with the help of so many different Colors being necessary. It’s just....Darrow’s circle feels a lot smaller than Shepard’s.

I mean, obviously being the face of a war is going to get you a lot supporters and people to work with, but the most important players are Darrow’s close friends and family. I’m sure part of this is the fact that the books are first person with specific POVs. Mass Effect does focus on Shepard’s story, but it’s in third person and you get a lot of different information through sidequests and talking to other characters. I mean, there’s a whole codex in Mass Effect with a lot of information and there isn’t one for RR (PB should make one tho). Our knowledge of the universe and its history is more limited in RR than Mass Effect, but I think that’s mostly because the lore in Mass Effect has more of a direct impact on how the story goes.

But back to the original point, it’s explicitly shown in Mass Effect that it requires everyone to stop the Reapers. And even though we see Darrow’s army, the main players, the ones who are taking care of the big things, are still Darrow’s inner circle. As an example, Mass Effect would be more like a pyramid (ironic) where Shepard is at the top. Even if it crumbles away (they die), the pyramid will still stand. For RR, it feels more like a chain. If one of the links (Darrow) breaks, then the chain is also broken. You could re-attach the pieces but it wouldn’t be as strong as it once was.

One last thing I wanted to bring up (which I will bring up again in part 4, yes I said part 4), is technology. Both Mass Effect and RR take place in the future and therefore have better technology than we do. There is something very important about this technology though that makes it more likely for Darrow to live. The Reapers are a race of sentient squid machines hellbent on the genocide of every other sentient species in the galaxy. But they are the ONLY things with access to that kind of technology. Even when they share it with Saren or the Collectors, it’s not something others can replicate. And once they’re destroyed (control ending notwithstanding) at the end of the third game, that’s it. They could still have people who are indoctrinated (although I think that stops when the Reapers were destroyed?) or people who are just stupid and think they were right, but...those people aren’t a threat. They can’t bring back the Reapers, I doubt anyone would be able to recreate such a thing (at least not within Shepard’s lifetime even if they did live). So once the Reapers were gone...that’s it.

Now, the technology in RR is, for the most part, accessible to everyone. Assuming Darrow defeats Atalantia, Lysander, etc. their way of thinking would still be around. But with the way the universe works, I think it would entirely possible for supporters of the Society to rise up and start a conflict all over again. This means Darrow is not finished yet, even if the immediate threats are gone. It wouldn’t make sense for him to die when there’s still stuff for him to do.

I do think, though, that it is worth mentioning that the definite ending of Mass Effect is probably related to the fact that it’s a video game and especially for stories like that, a more open ended conclusion with the implication that I COULD do more would only be frustrating. With tv shows, movies, and books, I notice, having a more vague ending works better because you’re just separated enough from the story that you can enjoy the implications of more stuff without feeling unsatisfied. There’s always exceptions of course.

ANYWAY, it part 3 I’m going to be talking about Persona 3 and 5 so....stay tuned.

#darrow of lykos #dark age spoilers #character study #long post

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swaps55 · 3 years

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This Hole You Left (Anderson)

Pairing: mShenko | Tags: Canonical Character Death, Grief

Post-Alchera.

This is a stand-alone scene from a larger work, but I’m very fond of it, so I’m posting it on its own.

Captain David Anderson stares out at the repair crews moving around the Presidium. Here, from the safe retreat of his office, it doesn’t look so bad. Scaffolding covers the damaged bridge. Debris still floats in the lake, turning the serene blue water a murky brown. The air circulators have almost cycled out the smell of soot and burnt alloy, but a trace of it still lingers. If he leans out far enough, the tip of the relay Shepard had barreled through using nothing but an M-35 Mako just four weeks ago is barely visible on his right periphery.

He doesn’t lean. Just as he doesn’t look at the datapad in his hand. Hearing the words come out of Joker’s mouth was enough. Seeing the helmsman’s face was enough. Anderson had remarked once to Shepard that he’d like to be there the day someone wiped the smartass off Joker’s face.

Shepard had snorted. Not me, sir, he’d said. If he gives up the smartass that probably means I’m fucked. I’d prefer my pilot remain an asshole at all times.

Shepard had been right, of course.

Anderson wipes a thumb across the corner of his eye. It’s all right. No one here to see.

They came back around for another pass, Joker had said, in a voice that was dull, dead, about as far a cry as you could get from the insubordinate ass who’d gone off on the stand in Vancouver just two weeks ago. Shepard had to be to blame for that display. Politics had never been his game.

We lost gravity right as he shoved me in the pod. Momentum from the blast…kicked him the wrong way. I didn’t see what happened after the door closed, but I didn’t need to. Drive core implosion doesn’t leave much to the imagination.

Anderson’s fingers grip the datapad harder. No. It doesn’t. That doesn’t stop his mind from filling in the blanks anyway.

All Shepard’s training. All the hell he’d put himself through to earn that N7 designation. There couldn’t have been a person more prepared to live through the Normandy’s destruction. And in the end, the realities of space had still won.

At least it had probably been quick. Probably.

The door to his office hisses open. For a moment, Anderson expects it to be Shepard. It should be Shepard. That son of a bitch has been putting Anderson’s heart in his throat since he was fourteen years old, but he’s never had the audacity to actually die. Hell, the kid had taken a reaper to the face and shrugged it off.

Kid. Shepard hasn’t been a kid in a long time, maybe never really was to begin with. But to Anderson, some part of Shepard would always be that fourteen-year-old with the thousand-watt grin and a glimmer in his eye that usually meant Anderson’s heart was about to leap into his throat. The smile had faded over time, but not that damned glimmer. He’d last seen it right here on the Citadel, when he’d stood up from the table at Flux Casino with plans to steal the Normandy right out from under the Council’s nose. And Anderson had helped him do it.

This can’t be how it ends. It can’t.

A voice speaks up behind him, crisp, formal. “You wanted to see me, sir.”

His expression tightens, but he smooths it out before he turns around. Lieutenant Alenko stands just inside the door to his office, shoulders straight, hands clasped behind his back, chin in the air. Anderson can’t shake the feeling there’s an empty space next to him.

Probably because he’s never seen Alenko without Shepard.

Kaidan Alenko. Damndest thing.

Who do you want on your marine detail? Anderson had asked, after informing Shepard he was being transferred off the Myeongnyang and onto the Normandy.

You’re asking me?

I’m naming you XO. If there’s someone you want, just say the word.

Alenko.

Anderson hadn’t had a chance to blink before the name was out of Shepard’s mouth. Not another N. Not someone from the special ops teams Shepard had run when Anderson could pry him out of Captain Oseguera’s hands. He wanted the biotic from the ‘Yang.

Hackett was the one who’d argued for assigning Alenko to Shepard’s detail five years ago, when the dust from Torfan had finally settled. Anderson had thought it would be a mistake. Alenko’s file showed he could keep up with Shepard, sure. But Alenko embodied the kind of idealism Shepard would chew up and spit out.

If we’re going to put his mind right to get back on the front lines, he needs an anchor, Hackett had replied, with that calm, ice cold demeanor that has won him nearly every argument he’s ever been involved in. Alenko will do the job.

The old man had been right. Shepard didn’t get close to people, and that was before Torfan. But he’d gotten close to Alenko. Hell, Alenko probably deserves most of the credit for bringing Shepard back from the brink. Because after Torfan, Shepard had indeed been on the brink.

Alenko might be the one on the brink, now. There’s a look in his eye that Anderson recognizes, and it isn’t a good one.

“Sit down.”

Alenko shifts his weight. Not the sitting kind, then. Not today. Anderson’s going to take a wild guess that Alenko hasn’t stopped moving since the Marrakesh picked him up.

He sighs and remains standing, giving the lieutenant silent permission to do the same. “I thought you’d like to know we’re working with the elcor to get a salvage team to Alchera. We’re hoping they find the Normandy’s black box data. Be nice to get some clues on what the hell happened out there.”

“Yes, sir.”

Hm. Brick wall is not Alenko’s usual MO, but that’s sure as hell what he’s talking to right now.

“Joker finished his debrief an hour ago,” Anderson goes on. “I assume you’ve heard his version of what happened.”

More shifting. The uncomfortable kind. Shepard’s done it more than a few times in Anderson’s various offices over the years.

“I haven’t, sir.”

Anderson takes a good, long look at him. He’s spent fifteen years worrying about Shepard. It’s never occurred to him to worry about Alenko.

“I see.” He exhales through his nostrils. “The Normandy was attacked by an unknown vessel. Whoever they were, Joker says they came out of nowhere. Shepard got him into the escape pod, but the ship lost gravity. He…well.”

Alenko stares straight ahead, silent. Anderson looks for a tell, but he only knows Shepard’s.

Alenko isn’t Shepard.

If this conversation is going to be one sided, Anderson needs backup. He moves to his desk, fishes a bottle out of a drawer that’s already half empty after being new just yesterday, and pours two glasses. He pushes one of them across the desk. Doesn’t occur to him until after the fact he has no idea if Alenko drinks scotch. It’s just one of the things Anderson and Shepard always agreed on.

“Have it if you want it,” he says, not up for bullying the lieutenant into a drink. “This is off the record.” He swallows half of his in one go, then heads back for the balcony. A few moments later, Alenko joins him, hands empty, still avoiding his gaze. There’s a chip in the brickwork, though. Not much, but something in his eyes wavers.

Yeah. It might be time to worry about Alenko. Losing two ships in the span of four weeks would do a number on anyone.

Except he doesn’t think it’s about either the Myeongnyang or the Normandy.

Anderson leans on the railing, gazing out at the wreckage of the Presidium. He takes another sip from his glass. “I’m sorry. I know he meant a lot to you.”

It takes Alenko so long to answer Anderson thinks he isn’t going to. But then some of the starch fades from his shoulders.

“He did.”

Anderson side eyes him. Had it been Shepard standing next to him, he might press. He could get Shepard to open up if he was careful enough. Sometimes.

But this isn’t Anderson’s business. And his own grief certainly isn’t Alenko’s business. But while most of the galaxy is preparing to mourn Commander Shepard, the soldier standing next to him might be the only person he knows who’s grieving for Sam. He swirls the remaining liquid in his glass.

“He was the most reckless SOB I’ve ever met,” Anderson says, watching a hanar drift along one of the intact pathways below them. “I’m pretty sure half the shit he pulled over the years was just to piss me off.”

Alenko raises an eyebrow ever so slightly in surprise, but doesn’t turn his head. “He’s always at his best when the plan goes to hell.”

“Since he was a kid,” Anderson agrees, not missing the fact that Alenko had referred to him in the present tense. “First time I ever laid eyes on him he was four. He’d wandered away from Daniel on Arcturus and he called in the cavalry to look for him. You know where I found him?”

Alenko shakes his head.

“In a fountain, playing with a model ship. I asked him what the hell his spaceship was doing in the water. He said, ‘I’m about to find out.’”

Alenko’s mouth curves in a brittle smile. “I didn’t know you knew him that young.”

“I doubt he remembered,” Anderson says. “His father and I were good friends. I dropped in on occasion while he was growing up.”

Before Shepard was a soldier. Before he was the Butcher of Torfan or the Savior of the Citadel. Back when he was still Sam, all knees and elbows, so desperate to please he couldn’t sit still.

Anderson still misses that kid.

“He said you kept an eye on him when they shipped him to Ares Station.”

Anderson huffs. “Told you about that, did he.”

Alenko nods, resting his hands on the balcony railing.

Then Shepard had indeed trusted Alenko. Only a handful of people knew about Ares Station and Guthra Tulak. Shepard had been one of five kids sent to biotically train with the krogan, and the only one to realize any potential.

Leave it to the Alliance to come up with a program even riskier than BAaT. Leave it to Hannah Shepard to volunteer her own kid to be part of it. Anderson always wondered if Sam knew about Hannah’s role in Ares, and how hard Daniel fought to keep it from happening.

To Hannah, Sam was a legacy. To the Alliance, he’d been a tool with astronomical potential. Someone had needed to look out for the actual kid. Daniel had tried, but.

Losing Daniel still stings. What would he have thought about his Spectre son?

Hell, Anderson knows exactly what he’d have thought. He would have feared this day, this ending, with every breath he took. He’d wanted anything else for Sam. Anything but this.

And Anderson had helped him become everything Daniel was afraid of. Hell, what choice did he have? You couldn’t dissuade Sam from anything. Once he was target locked on something there was nothing you could do but get as many obstacles out of his way as possible and hope for the best. So that’s what Anderson had done. Mentored him, advocated for him, taken a few hits behind the scenes on his behalf and cleared the path as best he could. Maybe you couldn’t take the target out of Sam’s sights, but you could guide his aim to make sure he hit it dead to rights.

“He’s come a long way since then,” Anderson says, wincing when he realizes now it’s him who can’t let go of the present tense. “I wish I’d been at the inquest. From the secure feed it looked like he put an entire roomful of admirals on their asses. Would love to have seen it in person.”

Alenko stills, expression frozen in place like a mask. Whatever nerve Anderson just touched is a big one, so he steers the conversation in a new direction.

“Though what I really wish I could have seen is what he found to gripe about being stuck in atmosphere. The entire time he was in Rio for ICT, he never once complained about the work. Wouldn’t shut up about how much he hated humidity.”

The fragile smile returns. “He hated going down a well without a hardsuit.”

“Know what almost kept him from qualifying for N1?”

Alenko shakes his head.

“Bugs,” Anderson tells him. “Not twenty-hour days, not hostile terrain, not crawling around in the mud without food or sleep. It was the bugs that damn near washed him out.”

A laugh escapes the lieutenant. It’s a rusty sound. “That…doesn’t surprise me.”

Anderson smiles at the memory. “He got over it. Made it through, like he always did. Wish I’d told him more how…proud I was.”

“You meant a lot to him,” Alenko says, so quietly Anderson almost doesn’t hear him.

The lump that forms in Anderson’s throat takes him off guard. “He had a way of affecting everyone he ever met. I forget sometimes it could go the other way. He made it so easy to think he was fine on his own.”

“He wasn’t.”

Alenko’s stare remains fixed on the view from the balcony. Not many people saw the side of Shepard that needed anyone. Even Anderson only saw it on occasion. Alenko was so far from the kind of person Shepard would let his guard down in front of, but clearly he had.

If we’re going to put his mind right to get back on the front lines, he needs an anchor, Hackett had said. Alenko had done the job, all right.

Problem was, it looks like that had gone both ways.

Anderson draws in a breath. Might as well get this over with. “I called you here to ask if you would speak at the memorial.”

It’s going to be a spectacle, the likes of which Sam would have hated, but the Alliance sure as hell isn’t going to be denied their PR opportunity.

Alenko shifts his weight. He’s so damn still. Shepard would be pacing the room until Anderson wanted to strangle him.

“Is that an order, sir?”

“A request.”

“Then I respectfully decline.”

Anderson finishes his drink. “Can I ask why?”

Alenko’s grip on the railing tightens. “The Alliance cares about the symbol. I cared about the person. I can’t give them what they want.”

Anderson can’t help but wonder what the lieutenant would have to say. Shepard was so many different things to so many different people. What, exactly, was he to Kaidan Alenko?

Why Alenko? Anderson had asked Shepard back on Arcturus, the Normandy’s hull gleaming and new out the shutters.

Shepard had thought a long time before answering, like there was too much to say and not enough words to say it.

Because he grounds me.

The older Shepard had gotten, the rarer it was to get glimpses of Sam. Sometimes Anderson wondered if Sam still existed, or if he’d been swallowed up by the mantle everyone demanded he carry. But that answer had come from Sam.

“Ok,” Anderson tells Alenko. “I’ll hand it off to Hackett.”

“Why not you?” Alenko asks, looking in his direction for the first time.

Anderson gazes down at his empty glass. Twenty years ago he might have thrown it against the wall just to watch it shatter. Nowadays he thinks too hard about the mess it would make, and being the one who has to clean it up. “Because I cared about the person.”

Heavy silence settles between them.

“You should take some leave,” Anderson says. “You’ve more than earned it.”

“I’m fine,” Alenko replies, but that haunted look is back.

Soon enough you’re going to have to stop moving, son, Anderson thinks. After Torfan, Shepard had hit the same wall Alenko is cruising right towards. But Alenko isn’t Shepard, and he isn’t under his command anymore. All he can do is give him a hand if he asks for it, and from the looks of it he isn’t going to ask.

Not that it would matter. Anderson’s got no anchor to give him that could replace the one he lost.

“Just think about it. And get some sleep.” He gestures towards the door, freeing the lieutenant from further torture. While Alenko makes for the exit, Anderson heads for his desk and the untouched glass. No sense in letting it go to waste.

Alenko pauses at the doorway and looks back over his shoulder. “Rain.”

“I’m sorry?” Anderson asks with a frown.

“You wanted to know what he found to gripe about on Earth. It was the rain.” He looks away without waiting for a response and walks away.

That empty space Anderson thought he’d been imagining when Alenko walked in feels even larger, now. Yeah. Shepard sure knows how to leave a hole in people.

#mshenko #kaidan alenko #mass effect #david anderson #trilogyappreciationweek #me legendary countdown #my fic

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amphxtrite · 3 years

Text

draco malfoy x fem!reader

part one: Broken

Warning: Angst, swearing, spelling and grammar mistakes

Summary: You finally decide to confront Draco his absence and find out his secret. fluff at the end.

A/N: Sorry if it’s a bit slow at the beginning, but I really like how this one ended up.

enjoy <3

___________________________________

You sigh as you continue to flip through your charms textbook, you had a big test coming up and you wanted to make sure you did well. Taking a look out your room’s window you break into a grin watching the snowflakes fall from the sky, you try your best to resist the urge to run into the snow, turning back to the textbook in front of you as a distraction, but when you kept reading the same line over, and over again, you give in and start to pull on your winter jacket, boots and a warm hat. Smiling to yourself, you hurried out of your common room door and ran through the halls until you finally felt the cool wind on your face.

Walking towards your favourite spot by black lake, you take in the gorgeous scenery. The trees in the forests were all ridden with bits of snow and icicles hanging down the branches, the lake had not yet frozen over but the snow and greenery around it made it seem like a muggle Christmas card, there were also little first years running around having a snowball fight, laughing happily. Flopping down on your back into the fluffy snow once reaching your destination, you enjoy the feeling of the cool snowflakes falling onto your warm cheeks. As you continue to lay in the winter wonderland your mind thinks back to the winters you and your family would stay at your cabin up north, your mother would always build large snow figures with magic, as you and your father always stared in awe at them. Since your father was a muggle, you also picked up on their traditions too, baking little cookies being your favourite. As your mind seems to perk up at all the happy memories, you replay a certain one in your head, the day Draco confessed his feelings for you in your fourth year.

“C’mon Dray, it’s just a little snow please.” you practically begged, giving your best puppy eyes to the grey eyed slytherin in front of you. “y/n you know I can't say no when you give me those eyes.” Draco sighs exasperated. “ so it’s a yes then?” you raise your eyebrow hopefully, Draco seems to debate this in his head before silently agreeing. You squeal with excitement telling him to get dressed in something warm before meeting by Black lake, before kissing his cheek and running off. Draco has to splash cold water onto his face to get rid of the blush. When you arrive outside you see the handsome blonde leaning against a tree, smiling as you got closer to him. “So, what did you have planned?” Draco asks, wrapping one arm around your shoulder. For the rest of that day you spent your time showing Draco all the different ways to enjoy the snow. You made snow angels with him, showed him how to build a snowman, (which he found rather ridiculous, but didn’t complain when he saw the look of pure joy in your face) had a snowball fight with him, and just sat in each other's embrace watching the snow fall. It had become slightly dark by then and you were still wrapped in Draco’s arms, he looked away for a second from the falling snow and his eyes fell to you, and you took his breath away. Your h/c was a little messy, but still framed your face perfectly, you had a faint pink blush on your skin and your nose was bright pink. You looked so perfect there in his arms and he knew he was a goner. “H-hey, y/n?” He started, trying to build up his courage. “What’s up Dray?” you ask cluelessly. He looked deep into your eyes and got lost in your e/c orbs, his confidence dwindling, he decided to just get it out. “I...I fancy you y/n. I have for a while, you’re so beautiful, kind and so smart. I just wanted to let you know.” He confessed, turning away bashfully. When you didn't respond he grew scared, did you not feel the same? He was about to apologize when he felt you lean towards him and close the small gap between you, pressing your lips to his in a short chasté kiss, “I fancy you too Draco, have since our first potions class together when you asked for my help on the essay.” you say truthfully. Draco’s mouth drops open, but it is soon replaced by a huge grin as he leans forwards and captures your lips in a kiss again, filled with snow, lipgloss and feelings coming out. You spent the rest of the night in the slytherin common room with hot chocolate, blankets and cuddles by the fire.

You bring your hands to your face and rub the tiredness out of your eyes, slowly drifting from the memory and back into reality.

Another month had passed since Draco broke up with you, you’d gone two and a half months without speaking or seeing the man you love. It hurt really bad that Draco didn’t even look at you anymore, and it confused you to no end.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts by a loud voice. “ I’m telling you two! Draco’s working for Voldemort!” You stiffen at these words, what the hell were they talking about? “Oh shut your trap Harry! You’ve been going on about this for days! I get you don’t like Malfoy, but this is getting out of hand!” That was Hermione’s voice, why did Harry think Draco would be working with Voldemort, that’s impossible… You keep still and continue to eavesdrop on their conversation. “Don’t you find it suspicious how much Malfoy has been avoiding us? What if he’s planning something?” Harry explains. “Forget it Harry, you know that prat’s been ignoring us because we’re friends with y/n” you could almost feel Hermione’s eye roll from here. “She’s got a point Harry…” Ron agrees. Harry seems at a slight loss of words and you choose then to take your leave, pulling your hood over your head to avoid being noticed and shaking your head at the golden trio’s antics.

Heading back to your common room you suddenly feel a slight shiver running down your spine, finally taking notice that the coat you were wearing was now very wet. Sighing, you shrug it off and quickly rush to the y/h common room to drop off your coat and change out of the cold clothing, swapping out your soaked outfit for warm sweatpants and casual shirt, running a brush through your hair before heading back to the great hall for something warm to eat. Taking your usual spot at the y/h table you start to sip on a mug of warm tea, letting the warm creamy taste of the milk and the sugary sweetness consume your body. You take a couple bites of shepard’s pie, you weren’t hungry, but you knew Hermione would be fretting over you if you dared to skip one meal, sometimes you wondered if Mrs. Weasley was rubbing off on her. Poking at your unfinished pie, you take a glance up to see if any of your friends are around, scanning the long tables around you, hoping to find a familiar face among the sea of people. While your eyes scan down the slytherin table, your eyes stop wandering and you’re met with those piercing orbs you missed so much. You felt your heart skip a beat and you tried to manage a small smile at him, but as your lips tug up Draco abruptly stands up and quickly exits the hall. You felt your heart drop, so many thoughts consumed your head, so many questions, insecurities and doubts, but you snap back to your senses and immediately storm out after him.

You had had enough, you could understand if he didn’t want to speak with you, but this was getting infuriating! What had you done so wrong that made Draco dash out of the hall after just making eye contact with you! You tail him from a distance, walking down several hallways and corridors, pushing past people until there weren’t any students around at all anymore. To stay hidden you’d hide in an alcove for a bit until you were sure Draco hadn’t sensed he was being followed. You continue down the last hall seeing a distinct flash of white enter a deserted boys washroom, storming in a minute later, you were about to raise your voice, but what you saw broke your heart all over again.

Draco was hunched over a sink his head drooped between his shoulders, his eyes were red and glassy, his hair was a mess and from up close you could see his sick face and very prominent bags under his eyes. You hid behind a pillar in the large room, unable to find your voice looking at Draco’s vulnerable form. As Draco straightened up a bit you could understand why he chose to come to such a deserted area, you heard him mutter muffliato in a small voice and a second later he began to cry. Tears filled with sadness and agony flowed free down his face, and strangled cries came from his mouth. He started hitting the edge of the sink with his fists, but Draco seemed numb to the pain, you could swear you heard a crack, but you were unsure if it was Draco’s hand or the sink he was beating. His sobs turned to screams with one word coming out like a mantra. “Why?” You began to walk slowly towards him, but the screams didn’t stop, he had still failed to notice your entry. “Why did this have to happen to me?! I don’t want this! I can’t be without her!” he screamed before you heard him whimper into his sleeve, tears began to form in your own eyes and you pushed back your nervousness, rushing towards him. “Draco!” you finally call to him and pull him towards you, hoping to hold him in your embrace. He stiffens and flinches away from you, a look of terror on his face. Brushing off the feeling of hurt as you step closer to him, you begin to speak, “Draco you don’t have to avoid me, please, tell me what’s going on! I’m sure I can help you.” you try to reason with him. “ y/n. You need to leave. Get out of my sight. Now!” You could tell he was trying to be cruel, but the breaks in his voice gave him away, you began to feel your own tears stream down your face. “No Draco, please don’t push me away, I’m here for you no matter what, you know I care about you.” You take another step closer to him as he takes a step back. Tears reemerge from his eyes and you reach out and wipe them away with your thumb, ignoring his tense features. “Please leave y/n, leave me, I don't want you to get hurt.” he whispers, removing his left arm from behind his back. “Dray, what on Earth are talking abou-” your words catch in your throat as you look down at Draco’s left arm, in dark ink that seemed to stare into the pits of your soul was a skull and snake tattoo. The Dark Mark. “Oh Draco…” you say taking his forearm into your hands. He lets you. “Go on y/n, run away, scream, tell everyone!” Draco’s soft voice raises into a yell, and as you look into the eyes you fell in love with, you can see the broken man inside him. “Draco-” he cuts you off. “What don't you understand y/n, I have the fucking dark mark on my arm! I’m helping a madman kill innocent people, I’m a bloody monster!” He’s sobbing now, and has fallen to his knees. You fall down with him and search his face. You search for any sign of dishonesty, any sign of hate, rage or evil, you’re unsuccessful. There is no sign of a monster. You only see a boy, a scared and innocent boy who doesn’t want or deserve the pain he is going through. You see Draco, the man you fell in love with and will love forever. You bring his wrist to your lips and kiss the ink on his arm. This shocks him and his mouth falls open, just like when you told him you also fancied him that winter 2 years ago, you smile at him. “Draco, this mark doesn’t define you, from what I’m hearing, you don’t want to hurt anyone or stand with Voldemort, you said it yourself you don’t want this, and if you were forced into this, I don’t care, Draco I love you, you, a tattoo doesn't change that if you don’t agree with the beliefs that come with it. It doesn’t have to change who you are.” you spill out truthfully. You reach out and hold his face in your palms and staring into his beautiful eyes, this time he doesn’t pull back.

“Y/n-” he stutters out. “Yes, my love?” you respond. He pulls you into him, wrapping you in a tight embrace and burying his face into your neck. “Thank you, thank you so much.” He murmurs against you neck. You start to feel tears running down his cheeks again, this time it’s not sad or angry tears, but happy and grateful ones. You return his embrace, rubbing his back soothingly and drawing patterns in his shirt. This beautiful boy has cried too many tears in his life and didn’t deserve an ounce of the pain and sadness he’s had to go through, you know he needs to get it out though, so you sit there in his arms, whispering sweet nothings into his ears and reassuring him you were never going to leave his side, he began to let apologies fall from his lips. whispering that it was all his fault and he was being stupid. You shut him up with a long passionate kiss, hoping your point was getting across. “Draco, you weren’t being stupid, you were trying to protect me, and I’m so grateful for that, I just wish you’d know you didn’t have to break up with me to protect me, we can work together.” you murmur against his lips with a smile. You feel him nod before he presses his lips to yours again and seals a wordless promise. A promise to stay, to fight, and to protect you from your side until his dying breath. You were his reason to stay strong and push through hard times, you were his hope that everything would turn up alright, you were a light in the dead of night guiding him out of dark times. With that kiss he sealed a wordless promise, a wordless promise of love.

@kitty7864 @lord-byron

#draco malfoy #draco imagine #draco angst #draco x y/n #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #harry potter #hermione granger #draco fluff #fluff #angst #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction

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nothisis-ridiculous · 3 years

Text

Duplicity

An AU where Kaidan joins Cerberus for the events of ME2.

Chapter Eight: Visitors

"You could have changed first," Mary's eyes flickered to the man, "it would have made a better impression."

This was the Commander on her best behavior, attempting not to scorn the man she once loved. The man that had carried her broken body from the field and into safety. The man that blushed and rubbed at his forehead under her scrutiny, unconsciously buying himself further slack with a motion that brought her back to the old days. She thought reaching him was impossible then; now it was somewhere between impossible and a nightmare. The dissonance firing off in her skull was astounding, painful.

"I was worried about," he choked out, in the husky tone that made her heart flutter, " you."

"We should worry more about ourselves- really, Kaidan? Mouthing off to the Illusive Man?"

Honestly, she was proud of him. Other than the one time he killed a superior, he was quite mellow toward most authority figures. The point value tripled because it was toward the Cerberus ring leader. His hand rubbed the back of his neck, fiddling a while before he would answer.

"Commander, the writing's on the wall here- he sent you... us into a trap. It was negligent at best, he could have easily told us. Given us a chance to prepare-"

"Leave that sort of thing to the three billion dollar asset."

"Four billion," Kaidan smirked, "that also happens to have a death wish."

Mary's eyes fluttered away, losing her will to act brave. Her heart was allowed to fear for another, "maybe I was aiming for you."

His dark eyebrow raised.

"Besides, I can at least try to end my life in the way I see fit."

It was a harsh kickback from the moment of vulnerability. It was too easy for her to return to a level of comfort with Kaidan; why wouldn't it be easy? They had spent nearly a year together more than enough time to grow close, to learn all the ticks and what they meant. Plus, she was bitter. Angry, he had a part in bringing her back to this fucked reality. One where she was shackled to Cerberus. Where her autonomy was a fading illusion, Mary was trapped, and rattling at the bars wasn't enough. Whether it was the nuclear option or falling into submission wasn't entirely clear, both paths still fought.

His other eyebrow joined, creasing toward the center. Reflexively frowning at Shepard's insinuation, a hand returning to massage at his temple, he had no defense. Nothing that would change her mind anyway. He loved her; that was obvious. He couldn't stand to lose her, but he had already told her that. It was in the galaxy's best interest to have her around and kicking Reaper ass, in that there was no doubt. Mumbling and fumbling over words wouldn't budge the Commander. There was no reason even to attempt such a thing.

"I won't apologize for bringing you back."

"What about working for Cerberus?" Mary spat.

Kaidan barked, the aggressive tone an accidental exhaling of emotion, "did Chakwas or Joker get this lecture too? Or is it just me?"

"Does it matter?"

"So Joker gets a warm welcome, you end up drunk with Chakwas, and I end up dodging crates? How is that fair?" he questioned with folded arms.

"They didn't see what they did first hand," she reeled, "they... you... didn't... you knew they killed my unit. You met Toombs."

"And hearing about it wasn't enough?"

Mary's throat bobbed, "it's different."

"Don't BS me, Commander," he retorted sternly, "we're way past that."

"I expected better of you."

"Why? Why just me?"

"You're a good man, Kaidan. I don't like being wrong," Mary went cold, folding her arms over herself, "I don't like thinking I misjudged you."

"Let me get this right...because of our relationship, you expect me to live up to a lofty standard?"

"Hardly lofty. Terrorist organization hardly seems your style," Mary's eyes barbed him with daggers.

"Yet you stick with them."

"What choice do I have? Can I just leave? They've brought in everyone I care about, the Illusive Man has already proved he doesn't mind using anyone connected to me as bait," she looked away, "I'm trapped here."

Kaidan lowered his arms, daring to close a portion of the distance between them. He wanted to assure her, to assuage Mary that she was not the only one caged. It wasn't the time, "I felt the same way when the Council... the Alliance threw me aside. Knowing the Reapers are coming is terrible stuff. Instead of waiting around, I did something."

"You went too far, Kaidan."

"The same could have been said when we mutinied."

"We didn't experiment on people."

"Yeah, Cerberus has a lot to answer for," Kaidan retreated.

Mary didn't answer, watching him coldly. He was sure if she could move from that bed she would have decked him hard on the way out. But she was stuck- tied to the bed by medical tape. She seemed in fine condition to anyone else, but he could see the subtle wince when her breath drew too deep, or her volume grew too loud. Kaidan knew Mary better than anyone.

"What am I supposed to say, Mary? Surviving tore me apart. You, you already know what happened at first, but I had the chance to do something. To fight against what I knew was about to happen," Kaidan stepped forward, "maybe we'll never be what we were. But don't judge me, and let me help. I know how this looks-"

The biotic finally dared to meet her gaze- just in time to watch the tears spring from her eyes," just stop," Mary pleaded, looking at anything else that could distance her, "it may have been two years for you, I get it. You've mourned me. It's only been a few weeks, I felt myself die... just to wake up, and everything is... different. I'm still not sure if I'm in hell or not. Cerberus wasn't even a place I'd be in my nightmare."

Mary's bright eyes suddenly caught him, "and you're with them."

Kaidan moved forward, a hand extended as the Commander curled into herself, pulling up the blanket in vain, hoping it would hide her. Sheild her from the vulnerability she was not willingly presenting. It leaked, and it was unfair of him to take advantage of her. In a previous time her guard would have dropped; now she fought to keep it up—only a part of her struggle to keep sane in this new life. His hovering arm dropped, retreating several paces to force himself to stop.

"I didn't want to believe it," Kaidan stalled, looking at his feet, "but I've been thinking, realized that some of these people are good people. Maybe misguided, but... good."

Mary nodded, keeping her head turned away from him.

"Look, I didn't come here to lecture you," Kaidan sent over a dossier from his omnitool, "I brought some good news. If pulling in someone else we know into this mess is good news."

She shook her arm free of the blanket, the orange illumination of her face revealing a subtle shift in her state. The corner of her lip pulling up after the initial pass of regret filtered over her face, at least the tears he should do nothing about slowed to a trickle.

"There are more dossiers, but I knew this one would be most the important."

"Send them over."

Mary scanned the other two, far more passive in her reading of the other potential members of her crew. This was his cue to leave, so he moved to do just that.

"Just be more careful next time," Mary murmured, following his path out of the medical bay.

Kaidan paused, nodding before ducking out of sight.

~~~

"Thanks Shepard, I will," Liara smiled warmly.

"I'll talk to you later, Li Li," Mary stood, acknowledging Miranda's sideways look with a lop-sided smile. Trotting down the stairs from the administrator's office.

"Jealous, Lawson?"

"No, I-" Miranda smiled nervously, "you aren't going to let this go, are you?"

"Not until I find the perfect nickname."

"Oh god," Miranda muttered, massaging her temples, "Miri and nothing else will be acceptable."

"Really?" Mary prodded but gently offering concern rather than utter mirth.

"Is it not embarrassing enough?"

The Commander grinned smugly, "no, it's just-"

"Just what?" Miranda blew with hands moving to her perfect hips.

Mary didn't avoid the conversation out of pettiness- Joker's voice drowned out the moment, pulling away from the lightness of her mood.

"Shepard, we, uh, have a visitor? Some Kai Leng he claims to be Cerberus."

"You let him on the ship?"

"Let is not the word I'd use."

"And everything was going so well," Garrus quipped, the quicker of her companions to read the shift of Shepard's energy.

"Mr. Moreau is correct, Mr. Leng is here on the Illusive Man's orders," EDI pipped in, "I had to let him in."

"You better hurry; he already pissed off Tali."

"I'm on my way, Joker."

"A stowaway problem, Shepard?" Garrus asked with a cock of his head.

"Miri," it was too grave for a lighthearted nickname, "do you know a Kai Leng?"

"That bastard."

Mary cocked her head, her smile fading into a frown, "Miranda?"

"This isn't good news, Shepard. He's the Illusive Man's personal pet," she spat.

"Threat level?"

"Ten."

Mary picked up her pace to the Normandy, ignoring the sideways glances and concerned looks she received. The doors to the ship were open for her, and an over-the-shoulder call from Joker directed the party to the shuttle bay. The elevator felt like it took centuries, and neither of her companions wanted to say a word. Not even a half ignored news clip to pass the time. Leaving her to claw at her vambrace, annoyed to be tramping through her ship in unclean armour. It was a minor detail, but she hated bringing unnecessary germs onto the belly of her ship. She had a quarian to consider.

As if that was her greatest worry at the moment.

Mary stormed into the cargo bay, surprised to find three figures, and notably the lack of a certain Quarian. The krogan presence was less of a surprise, if there was a fight Grunt would find it. With his space overlooking the bay, he didn't have to pry, and furthermore, Jack's latest biotic blast wasn't easily ignored.

"If you think I'm letting you take me now," Jack heaved, dodging a projectile and returning a side-stepped shockwave, "you're fucking wrong!"

"Jack!" Mary screamed, breaking the biotic's concentration, and then her head swiveled to the stranger, "you must be Kai Leng."

"Shepard," the dark-haired stranger drawled, sending an instinctive shiver down her spine.

She wouldn't be intimidated, ignoring the gnawing sense this man would as quickly kill her as he would shake her hand, but it couldn't stop the protect folding of her arms over her chest, "why are you tormenting my crew?"

"Lawson," he continued, the smug smile leaving as he examined the turian, "and this must be the one known as Archangel."

Mary stepped in to partially block his view of Garrus. She knew that look.

The mixed heritage man extended out his hand- Mary had never wanted to do anything less, but this was a power move. Declining would give him the literal and figurative upper hand. Fuck, his grip was tight, overbearing.

"I was sent here to help; after all, the fate of humanity is resting on your shoulders," Shepard felt the omitted words from his saccharine tone.

"I don't need the kind of help that torments my crew."

"I corrected your blatant disregard for Cerberus' confidentiality."

A chuckle escaped Garrus's airway, on inspection, Miri sported a fleeting smirk. Spurring Mary on to laugh in his face, "yeah, from stolen Alliance and Turian designs."

"This wasn't part of the deal, Shepard," Jack butted in.

"You'll get those files back."

"Will you?"

"You'll learn soon enough that Shepard gets her way, Leng."

Kai Leng took his turn to chortle, "so quick to betray Cerberus, Miss Lawson?"

Miranda exhaled slowly, "what's the harm in a few classified files," her tone almost defeated. Mary and Jack meeting each other with a curious look.

"I'm sure you can find your way to temporary quarters?" Mary returned her attention to the stranger, "The Illusive Man and I need to have a chat in the meantime."

#fshenko #mass effect fancition #cerberus au #duplicity #kaidan alenko #mass effect

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swordsandshields99 · 3 years

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Chapters: 4/6 Rating: Mature Day 5 - We are Family - TW: Depictions of character death; grief @cactuarkitty

Chapter Summary: After the suicide mission, Garrus goes to visit his family, and his mother one last time. Regret, grief, family, and bitter-sweet, beautiful closure.

When Garrus awoke on the Octavian Frigate, he forgot where he was for a moment. It took him a bit to gather his surroundings, taking deep breaths and calming his subharmonics. It'd been so long since he wasn't either on Omega, or a Cerberus ship. He heard the loud engines of the Turian frigate, the familiar humming of 100 Turian subharmonics ringing throughout the ship. Right. Family. He was on his way to see his family. For the first time in, well almost 3 years. He had been about to book a flight for Palaven when his sister, Solana, texted him saying they wouldn't be there. They were on a colony near Sur'Kesh. Where the Helios Medical Institute was located.

His family would never know, that it was his donation of Collector tissues, all the credits he had, and a wonderful letter of clearance from Mordin, that was the reason his mother had qualified for the treatment. From his father and sister's perspective, an anonymous donation allowed room for one more Turian patient. They'd' never know it wasn't anonymous, and it wasn't a donation. Garrus was broker than broke after that payment. They'd never know that after the mission on Horizon, he would have begged Mordin to send a sample to help his mother. Luckily for him, he only had to ask and Mordin was more than happy to help. He also knew, that without the Salarian's clearance, it still wouldn't have been enough to get the project running in time to help his mom.

And even for all that, it still wasn't fast enough to truly help her. At first, it seemed it might slow down her disease. But only for a few months before she took a turn for the worse.

Garrus stood at the docking bay doors, waiting for his cab. When it arrived, he got in without a word and punched in the facility's name. The computer did the rest. He spent the drive trying to figure out what he would say. He had decided a long time ago not to inform his family about the money and the tissue samples. As much as it had done to help her, and as much as it had relieved his family from the pressures of trying to care for her at home, it was nothing compared to the fact that he wasn't there for them.

Yes, his mission this past year with Shepard was important. Important enough, or he wouldn't have done it. But the two years before that? Omega? No, not only could he not tell them about that anyway without enduring a shame he didn't think he could shoulder, he should have been at home. He should have been helping. So now what? Lie? Say that his past mission was three years instead of one?

There was no way in hell he would lie. Never to his family. Not to most, but never to them. So what? He knew, while his father might just be disappointed enough not to even ask, his sister would.

He stood outside the facility doors, before taking a deep breath and going in. He pulled up his omni-tool to send a group text.

G: Dad, Sol, I'm here. What room #?

D: Room 203

S: I'll come get you.

It only took Sol 45 seconds to enter the lobby, their father in tow behind her. He knew the second they saw him. Sol's shocked face, her mandible's splaying out in horror. His dad's pained subharmonics.

Sol didn't know. Couldn't have known. When he finally made contact again, he refused to vid-call, always coming up with excuses. And after he called his father right before he thought he was about to die, well maybe his father was expecting as much.

"Garrus," Sol said, a bit breathless. "Spirits, what happened to you?" Sol had grown up tough. Always trying to keep up with her big brother. And she always succeeded. Garrus wasn't sure what she did after her initial period of service, but even he didn't have the military clearance to know what she was up to. But in this moment, she was the most tender he had ever seen her. She reached her hand out tentatively, holding the side of his face that was horribly mangled and scarred. Her subharmonics were ringing, part sadness, part shock, and the smallest bit of 'ick'.

"Missile to the face," he said, the same joke (that wasn't actually a joke) he'd be making for the rest of his life.

Castis walked up to his son, head held high, hands clasped behind his back. "This happen after our phone call?"

Garrus' subharmonics wavered, sounding with a certain acceptance and gratefulness. His father's brow plates rose when he heard it. Perhaps the old man wasn't expecting gratitude at bringing up that phone call, but Garrus felt it none-the-less. He would always be grateful for that 50 second phone call. The one where his father gave him some peace when he thought he was in his final moments.

Castis could hear that from his son's subharmonics now. His hard exterior melted into a relieved one. Castis placed a hand on Garrus' shoulder, "It's good to have you back in one piece, Son." His own subharmonics rumbled with relief and, to Garrus' surprise, fatherly love.

Garrus fought down his emotions, "How's mom?"

They were both too silent. Garrus' knew that was answer enough. Sol's subharmonics wavered with regret and grief. His mother wasn't gone yet, but she would be soon. "Let's go see her," Castis said softly as he turned to lead his children to their mother's hospital room.

Garrus wasn't sure what he expected. The last time he saw his mother, she was forgetting things. She could never remember what she had just been doing, or where she left any of her things. She was forgetting who people were, like their neighbors. And it was so unlike her, his mother always with sharp wit and a sharper tongue, that it hurt all the more to see. Her hands and legs had been shaky, but if she concentrated she could control it. And that was three years ago. Corpalis Syndrome wasn't kind.

They entered the dimly lit room, monitor's beeping softly. "When she's sleeping, she's so peaceful that it's a relief. But, I always want her to wake up. So that I can be with her," Sol's second vocals wavered heavily, her subharmonics grief stricken. Hearing his sister cry was hard, even if they were both adults. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and squeezed.

Their mother gasped suddenly upon hearing them, her eyes shot open. She wheezed heavily, each breath a struggle. Her eyes darted around the room. Castis walked calmly to her side, "We're here, dear. You're alright."

"Who.. who are..." Garrus' mother began. If she didn't recognize Castis, there was no way in hell she'd recognize him. Especially with half his face blown off. "Ah... Cas-castis, dear." She stuttered horribly, her hands shaking uncontrollably as she tried desperately to clasp her bond-mate's hand. Castis reached out and held her hand tightly, but even that wasn't enough to stop the shaking. "Castis, I d-d-don't want t-to be h-h-here. P-please, where are we? T-t-take me home?!" Her voice was pain-stricken. Her subharmonics were wavering wildly, changing from scared to angry every other sentence. Garrus had never heard his mother sound scared a day in his life.

Garrus' felt Sol squeeze his hand as she whispered, "Dad thinks she's been waiting to see you Gar. She's been holding on."

Garrus' throat tightened and his hide itched at the thought. Had she? Spirits.

"We're here so you can be more comfortable, I promise my bonded," Castis said in a soothing tone.

"She'd want to be at home at the end. But the medicine is keeping her as comfortable as we can manage. Without it, she'd be in too much pain. Everything is just... shutting down so quickly," Sol said quietly.

"Look, bonded, the kids are here to see you."

Garrus' mother looked at the pair. "Kids... we have kids?"

Garrus felt horrified, but Sol acted like it was just another Tuesday. "Hi mom, it's Solana," his sister said as she approached the bed so her mother could see more clearly.

"Sol! When did you get here?" his mother said happily, chirping as if Sol was 10 years old. "Are you being good?"

"Yes, I promise," Solana said with a forced laugh. Sol looked back at him and gave him a forceful look.

So he stepped forward. "Hi mom, it's me, Garrus," he said, taking his sister's lead.

"Garrus. You're not Garrus," his mother said, furry in her eyes. "Not my Garrus." His mother looked at Castis then, "Garrus is at target practice out back, isn't that right Castis?"

"No dear, this is Garrus. Isn't he all grown up now? He's been away on a mission."

"A mission? My, aren't we so proud of him Castis," his mother said as she turned back to him. Suddenly, her eyes cleared and her subharmonics rang out with motherly affection and love. "Garrus... my Garrus. You've been hurt."

"Hey mom," Garrus said, relief flooding his bones. "Yeah, all better now though, promise."

She nodded. "You'll be alright. You'll see," she said with meaning behind the words. He felt like keening right then and there, but fought it down. She always knew what to say. She tried reaching out for him, so he got closer and held her other hand in his. "I love you, my son. I'm not sure what your mission was, or what your next one will be, but your mother always believes in you." And just as quickly as it came, the moment of clarity vanished. She wrenched her hand from his. "Who are you?" she said angrily. "Castis, where's Castis?!"

"I'm here," Castis said, grasping for control of his emotions. "I'm right here."

"Castis," she wheezed as she looked at her bond-mate. "It... it hurts."

Castis keened, his control slipping. He regained control of his vocals and subharmonics quickly and said, "I'll give you more medicine, bonded. Hold on."

"It hurts," his mother whispered. "It hurts, it hurts, it hurts." Her body stiffened and shook for a split second, and when she relaxed again continued quietly, "Castis, my hurt. My hurt. My hurt."

Castis fumbled with the button and pressed it twice, and slowly it seemed as if she had drifted to sleep. The family stood in silence for a moment before she whispered, "Castis. Take me to the window?"

"Bonded?" he asked, unsure if she was in her right mind or if she meant it.

"I long to see the stars again, just once," she wheezed.

Castis scooped her up in his arms, and Garrus saw just how tiny and fragile his mother was. Castis pinned down her arms, but her legs shook still. Garrus saw the cords getting pulled, so he pushed the medicine trolley behind them.

Castis brought her to the window and opened the curtains. Garrus thanked the Spirits the stars were visible that night. His mother gazed at the bright stars for a few silent moments with his father before she turned her head into Castis' chest and whispered, "Starlight and dancing?"

Castis chuckled softly. "Starlight and dancing. Always."

Garrus wasn't sure what it meant, but it was clearly meaningful to them.

The slow and erratic beeping of her heart monitor slowed. Castis went rigid, and Garrus heard the low, mournful rumblings of grief begin to form in his father's subharmonics. They listened to the heart monitor in silence, until 5 minutes later, it stopped. A Salarian doctor came to the door, and without disturbing anyone in the room, checked his mother's pulse. He made a note in his omni-tool. "I'm sorry," the doctor said quietly, and left the room.

Castis collapsed in the chair near the window, still holding his bond-mate in his arms. The rumble that Garrus heard earlier grew louder and louder until the subharmonics were nearly deafening. Garrus wasn't sure how humans couldn't hear something so loud. Something so utterly bone shattering. Solana began keening quietly, and he drew her close, hugging her tightly. And Garrus did what he always did. He shut it off. All of it. He clamped down as hard as he could on his subharmonics and was silent.

After 30 minutes passed, Solana's keening died down as she said, "I guess she was waiting for you."

And just like that, he shattered. He dropped to his knees and put his head in his hands, keening louder than he ever had as a child. He felt Sol kneel down beside him and embrace him as she too keened, but more softly. He felt his fathers hands on them, his subharmonics naturally rumbling comforting tones to his children. Garrus wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, but eventually he came back to himself. Sol had fallen asleep, so he picked her up and set her in the chair next to them. He looked over at the bed. His father must have placed their mother their before coming to them.

A different Salarian with a lab coat came in then. "I'm sorry for you loss, Vakarian clan. I wish there was more that could have been done." The Salarian turned to Garrus. "She was lucky to have such a devoted son. With your permission, the Institute would appreciate keeping the samples and donations you sent. While we are incredibly sorry that it was not in time to help your mother, the research we are conducting now with the tissue samples you sent will most certainly help us find a cure, and many others in the future will be spared."

Garrus nodded his head numbly.

"Thank you, Mr. Vakarian." The Salarian turned to Castis. "Senior Vakarian, please take your time here. When you are ready, please indicate what you would like our next steps to be. We can take care of her here, or send her home to Palaven, but we must prepare her either way."

Castis nodded, and the Salarian left.

"What?" Sol suddenly asked. She must have woken from the Salarian.

"What?" Garrus asked.

"Samples and donations?"

Shit, he thought. Garrus sighed. His mind was fuzzy, and he didn't have the capacity to think clearly at the moment. He shook his head, trying to clear it.

"Garrus," his father said, his subharmonics sounding panicked. "Tissue samples... yours? Son, do you have Corpalis?" His father's second vocals wavered so intensely Garrus worried he might fall over. Sol's subharmonics joined in with panic.

"No! No. No, the... the samples, I," it took more than he had to explain the collectors right now.

"Son, please, I," Castis started.

"No, I promise, I don't. The tissue samples are... they're Collector tissue samples. I worked with an STG agent when we acquired them. We believed they showed capabilities to cure some neurological diseases. And it turns out we were right. I thought I'd have to wait until we went through Omega-4, but the Collectors came early. Sent in the tissue samples, with the Agent's approval to move ahead with the Institue's Corpalis project."

Castis was visibly relieved, and his knuckles turned white as he gripped the back of his chair. "Spirits," he said softly, his eyes closing.

"You... you did all that for mom?" Sol whispered. "And, donations?"

Garrus sighed, hanging his head heavily. He hadn't wanted this. Still didn't want this. "Every credit I've earned the past 3 years has gone to getting mom into the project." He stood angrily. "And it was all for nothing. I wasn't... I wasn't fast enough. It wasn't enough." His hands balled into fists, so tight his talons broke skin.

He felt Sol's hand on his arm. "Garrus, even if Dad and I had been able to save for 10 years, we couldn't have paid for mom's treatment. Do you have anything left?"

"I sold my apartment, and everything I own, and took every job I could take. And my last mission was assigned to be a suicide mission. I wasn't supposed to come back from that, but it paid well. Well enough to pay for 75% of the treatment."

"So, the missile incident wasn't even the suicide mission?" Castis said.

Garrus shook his head, "No, just a job gone wrong."

"I'm sorry," Sol said abruptly.

"For what, Sol?" he murmured.

"When we spoke before your last mission, I... well I thought you had just abandoned us. I was so harsh... so mean, and you were on your way to what, die in a mission while saving mom? Garrus, I had no idea."

"Sol, you couldn't have known. And even if you had known, you were still right. I wasn't here. Wasn't here for her."

"G, you were here for her. Fighting for her every day. You heard her, she believed in you. She knew you. You were doing what we couldn't. That's what families do."

Before he could argue, his father cut in. "Garrus, you said it was for nothing, that it wasn't fast enough," Castis said with a sigh. "Before she came here, it was worse than what you saw today. We weren't equipped.. I.. wasn't equipped to handle your mother's care. She needed around the clock care and medicine. She was lingering, not bad enough to die, but bad enough to be in constant misery. She couldn't talk, at all. Not at all. This treatment saved us. It saved her. Saved her spirit, her dignity, gave her peace and relief from the pain. It gave her," Castis choked up, "it gave her a much better end than what we could have given her. I would've given anything for that, for her." He walked up to his son, "Not enough? Garrus, it was everything."

#merweek2021 #merweek #mass effect relationships week #mass effect #mass effect 2 #mass effect 3 #garrus vakarian #castis vakarian #solana vakarian #i'm not crying you're crying #ok i'm totally crying #this was hard to write #my soul hurts

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hyunjilicious · 4 years

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Reader is terrified of doctors but Jackson had been their doctor forever and the only one to calm then down /prep them when they need surgery

Ok, so i wanted to this right, but i didn’t know what condition the reader could have so that she’d need to come see him so much, so i just wrote the part where he is always there for her :) i really hope you don’t mind and that you’ll still enjoy this! Thank for the request!

"Yeah, mom" you sighed, "Yes, I will... Yes, yeah, I know, I will call- I love- I love you too, mom, yeah, ok. Ok, bye- yes, I will, ok. Mom, I got, ok? Relax, thank you, I love you too. Bye"

Just how much of your conversations with your mom worked over the phone. As if it wasn't enough that she was worried about you even when you were already at home, hearing that you called an ambulance and were rushed to the hospital, she almost lost it entirely. After finishing high school, you moved to different state, so your relationship with her was mostly telephone-based, so you couldn't really blame her. At the beginning, you'd call her a couple of times a day, complaining about mundane stuff or getting all excited over the most insignificant things, but you didn't have anyone else to call. Not only did she understand, but she also enjoyed being up to date with whatever it was you were up to. The first, and the best, even to this day, friend you had made in Seattle was Jackson. He introduced you to Dr. Shepard years ago, and has been by your side whenever you needed him.

Following a bad car accident that took place years ago, you underwent a number of brain surgeries, but in the end, the prognostic was good. They mentioned that you might lose your motor skills on the right side of your lower body, but until this morning, you showed no signs. However, while making coffee, as you tried to turn around and place your mug on the counter, your left leg gave in entirely, causing you to fall onto the ground. The mug shattered into a few big pieces which got lodged in your palm, as you fell right on top of them. It wasn't the puddle of blood on the floor that freaked you out, but that feeling you got when you couldn't control your legs leg anymore. That was what prompted you to call the ambulance.

On your way to the hospital, your motor skills returned and you felt ready to stop at anytime, get off, and head back home. It wasn't that you actually thought you were fine, you hated hospitals. With all your heart. The more time you spent at Grey Sloan, the sicker to your stomach you felt.

By the time you got to your assigned bed in the ER, Jackson had already appeared beside you.

"What happened to your hand?" he asked concerned, gently grabbing your wrist and turning your arm around, so he could take a better look at the bandages the paramedics wrapped around your wound.

"Hi" you mocked, shaking your head as he completely failed to greet you.

"Hello, Y/n" he said back, smiling as if he had done you a favor, "What happened?"

"It's not the hand" you sighed, getting more comfortable in your bed. You rolled your eyes and corrected yourself, "I mean it's the hand too, but that's not why I came here"

He looked at you knowingly, that was how you always acted. Everything medical has always scared the life out of you. "Tell me?"

"It's my leg"

"What about your leg?" he asked, all of a sudden concerned. He probably didn't think something bad had happened, most likely, in his head, there were just the cuts on your arm, and the rest of the story was you being paranoid. However, the tremor in your voice proved him wrong.

"I couldn't move it, or feel it" you admitted, "It lasted for about a couple of minutes, that's how I fell"

At one point, as you talked, Jackson spun around in his chair and ask a nurse to call for "A neuro consult"

"Fuck, tell me it's Amelia" you whined, hands already getting shaky.

"Ok, relax" Jackson cooed, gently pushing you back as you didn't even realize you were beginning to stand up, "I'll take care of your hand, and in case Koracick shows up I'll send him on his way, ok?"

"Thanks" you nodded, and he stood up. First, he leaned in to kiss the top of your head and then walked all the way to the other side of the room, bringing a kit to take care of your cuts.

Somehow, you weren't scared. Somehow, Jackson managed to be literally the only person to work in a hospital and terrify you.

"So, is this what you do all day?" you asked teasingly, looking as he disinfected your wound once again. It burned, deeply, but you brushed it aside, knowing he would never do anything wrong.

"Not interesting enough for you?" he asked, grinning as he looked up into your eyes.

"Just making conversation" you smiled, shrugging.

"Just tell me what have you been working on" he suggested as he gracefully sutured your cuts.

"Oh well" you sighed, "New year, new students. These are so much worst than the other ones. You'd think I got my PhD to do research but I get so into this teaching thing, that I've completely neglected my project"

"Which is?" Jackson questioned, not raising his eyes from your hand.

"Super symmetry and the flaws we currently accept. I'm trying to be the genius of my generation and explain them"

"Can you?"

"Most likely not" you laughed, "I have no idea what I'm doing"

"I'm sure you'll figure it out, you're smart like hell"

"Says he hotshot surgeon" you mocked.

"I never said I wasn't" Jackson defended himself laughing, and just as he prepared to stand, Amelia showed up.

"How's my masterpiece doing?" she asked with a smile.

Your first instinct was to grab something into your hand and squeeze, and much to your surprise, Jackson grabbed your hand into his. He held tight, giving you more reassurance and courage than you could have ever gotten on your own. From what she could check in the ER, everything looked good, so she decided to order a head CT to make sure she wasn't missing anything. A stretcher-bearer walked over and started wheeling you to the CT room.

"I can walk" you said as you felt weird laying down on the bed while Jackson and Amelia walked beside you.

"It's procedure, hun" she smiled, "Don't worry"

Somehow, the schedule for the CT machine got mixed up and overlaid your appointment with the one before you. This way you had about 5 more minutes to wait. While Amelia headed inside, making small talk with the other doctors, you and Jackson waited outside on the hallway.

"Do you think she'll notice if I just run away?"

"Probably" he sighed, amused.

"This is the most awful part. I sit in that oven for 20 minutes and I can literally feel myself get radiated and my neurons die"

"Woah" Jackson gasped, "That was dark"

"I'm sorry"

"No, Y/n, it's ok, I got you" he cooed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. "I know this is difficult for you, but I'm here, ok? You get scared or anything, it'll literally take me 10 seconds to get you out of there"

"I guess"

"Do you trust me?"

You nodded against his shoulder, but didn't say anything.

"Come on, look at me" Jackson prompted, "Do you trust me?"

"Yeah" you said shily, having serious difficulty looking into his bright blue eyes. "Have you ever gotten a head CT?"

"No" he answered after he thought about it for a minute, "I'll get one right now though, if it'll make you feel better"

"You don't have to" you laughed, "It's ok"

"Would it make you feel better?"

"No" you shook your head, "My fear is completely irrational. I won't calm down until it's all over"

He watched you in silence for a few seconds, and then spoke up, his voice now happy and quite a bit shy. "How about when it's all over I take you out to dinner?". When you failed to say anything and your eyes grew wide, he continued, "As a date?"

"Are you serious?" you cringed, even if your insides were doing jumping jacks.

He nodded eagerly.

"I'll go out with you as long as my brain is fine, I don't want you to a date a cripple or something"

"Oh my god, Y/n" he gasped, "Stop saying stuff like that, god"

"I'm sorry, it's how I cope"

"I'll tolerate it, this time, because you're anxious about the CT and you're really cute, but don't say shit like that ever again"

"Ok, I'm sorry, I won't"

"Good" Jackson chuckled, pulling you back against him. He kissed your cheek, and when you refused to pull away, he placed another kiss, this one a bit lower, and he kept going until he reached your lips. You didn't get to do that much as just when you were about to start kissing him back, Amelia interrupted the two of you, "You two have got no shame, you're in a hospital!"

#jackson avery fanfic #jackson avery imagine #jackson avery #greys anatomy #greys anatomy imagines #greys anatomy fanfic

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theoriginalladya · 3 years

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Ooh, That Scene for Seeing Reds and Young & Proud?

Why does it not surprise me you would ask about these two??? Thank you so much for asking about them! <3

Okay, let me see. For Seeing Reds, the first scene I came up with, the one that convinced me to write the fic in the first place, was one of the last scenes in the actual story. It’s a scene where Caleb is basically seeking sanctuary with Athair and they are hiding out on the island. I’ve always known that Athair would be a big influence in Caleb’s life, even from afar, and it all starts back during Caleb’s years as a young child and in the Reds. I wanted to have that almost father-like person in his life, sort of guiding him, almost like a ‘conscience on his shoulder’ type of an influence, one that will help him get to a point where he can go on and become the Commander Shepard that we know from the games, but I don’t think I realized just HOW much of an impact he would end up having for him.

Skeptical, Caleb asks, “Have you brought any other Reds here?”

The priest shakes his head. “No, son,” he replies in a more solemn tone, “you are the first.”

Caleb’s shoulders slump slightly. The food has no taste and his mouth is dry as he stares down at his hands. “And the last.”

“Perhaps.” The priest rises and walks back over to Caleb where he crouches down and pats his shoulder. “You cannot worry about them now. There is nothing you can do for –.”

Caleb jumps to his feet, anger surging uncontrollably as he knocks the priest backwards. It only takes a few of his long-legged strides to reach the opposite wall where he slams his fist against the stone wall, knuckles first and heedless of slicing pain that shoots up his arm while at the same time, an unending roar of anguish that has nothing to do with his hand is ripped from the center of his chest.

For half a breath, as his cry rolls and reverberates throughout the room, as the skies outside seemingly echo his pain with a sudden explosion of light followed practically immediately by rolling thunder, the world comes to a halt and everything is still. Save for his heaving lungs, searching for more air to fuel another such outburst, all is quiet …

He turns on his heels, facing the priest, his eyes wild and seething. “The only way there is nothing I can do is if I am dead!” he bellows defiantly.

Athair stands and folds his arms across his chest as if waiting patiently for a storm to blow itself out. It is maddening, but not unexpected. And yet, Caleb knows from experience, this priest is a man of complexities; this is not the reaction he expects. Not this time. Not this situation. Eyes narrowed, Athair asks flatly, “Are you quite finished?”

Like kindling meeting flame, Caleb erupts again. Before he knows it, and without conscious thought, his arm swings in the direction of Athair, and there is nothing he can do to stop himself. There is a half second where, in the back of Caleb’s mind, he considers the repercussions of this action, the cost of attacking the one man in all the world who might be able to help him, but it is fleeting. In the next moment, the older man throws himself away from the fist while reaching to grasp Caleb’s arm, and somehow manages to twist in such a way that he pulls it up behind the teen, pressing it against his spine as he wraps his arms around and holds him close, immobile. “Let it go, son, now,” he breathes near Caleb’s ear, his voice a mixture of authority and pleading, “let it go before it eats you alive!”

Caleb chokes for air, horrified and stunned by the turn of events in the last few seconds. What have I done? Beneath him, his legs weaken and he crumples to the floor, sobs wracking his thin frame. Athair follows, his arms loosening but he does not release Caleb completely until the younger man’s body goes completely limp, all the while murmuring half formed prayers and words of comfort.

As for Young & Proud, it’s actually two scenes that blend into one another. Surprise, surprise, it’s a pub brawl! lol (I know you’re going to enjoy this one!)

“So, the Alliance allows any old Paddy into the service now, is it? Damned blighters can’t even aim properly!”

Images of the first brawl with Coats pass before Caleb’s eyes. Before he can respond, however, Coats slides between them. “C’mon, mate, it was your buddy over there who caused the ruckus,” he points at the other man now at the bar, “not him.”

The civilian places his beefy hands on Coats’ shoulders, pushing him aside to bring Caleb directly into view once more. “Wasn’t asking you, friend. Was asking –”

Coats’ hand wraps around one of the man’s wrists, removing it as he slips back between them. “You misunderstand, friend. If you’re talking to him, you’re talking to me. First. Or are you too thick to get that much?”

Caleb sighs, eyes rolling. He already knows how this is going to end, Coats’ stubbornness gives it away. A quick look over at the barman assures him he can see it too as he’s already making a call. “Hammersmith, let it go.”

But Coats shakes his head. “No, not this time.” He leans in nose to nose with the civilian. Caleb shifts to his right, attempting to get back a line of sight when the civilian’s hand flies up and solidly hits Coats’ left jaw. His friend grunts heavily in pain and surprise, but holds his ground.

“If I end up back in hospital, you’re explaining to Ceila again about how intellectual we are,” Caleb mutters just before throwing a punch with his left arm into the civilian’s solar plexus.

The fight that ensues is weirdly satisfying on several levels, not the least of which is that Caleb manages to avoid being hit. Whether that is due to Coats and the way he constantly jockeys around to protect him, or the rest of their sniper class who also get involved, Caleb doesn’t know, but by the end of the fight, as he and the others are being escorted out of the pub and back to base by the police, and the only pain in his shoulder is the residual ache left over from his surgery as his medication starts to wear off.

They are escorted to the Administrative section where he and Coats are directed straight into Major Walker’s office only to find that it isn’t their CO standing there, but none other than Commander David Anderson.

Startled, Caleb stands at attention, unable to salute due to the bandages on his shoulder. Coats is less than a second behind him. The older man eyes them both critically, his face a neutral mask. Caleb swallows and curses softly to himself in silence, hoping he hasn’t just ruined his one shot at a decent life outside of Ireland in front of the very man who gave it to him.

“Well, now,” the booming voice of the commander begins as he steps out from around the desk, “would one of you like to tell me what the hell is going on?” One dark brow arches sharply upward, but there is a hint of a twitch at the left corner of his lips that leaves Caleb wondering.

Neither Caleb nor Coats moves, but both try to find an extra inch of spine in their apprehension at the scrutiny, eyes straight ahead. Anderson crosses the room and shuts the door behind them. “At ease,” he finally tells them.

Caleb pauses, breath catching in his lungs. Beside him, he senses Coats’ trepidation as well. “Sir…?” he dares when Anderson returns to his previous position.

The commander’s face pinches slightly around the eyes, his lips pressed thin. This isn’t the face of a man about to dress them down, Caleb decides after a moment of study. He darts a quick look over at Coats, but his friend shrugs almost imperceptibly.

“Sit down,” Anderson says, a huff of laughter escaping with the words. “Go on, sit down.” A slow smile curves across his face, reaching his dark eyes. Both Caleb and Coats do as Anderson instructs, dropping into the uncomfortable seats. As the man leans forward, arms resting on the desk, he says, “Now, I think it is about time we three have a little chat.”

Coats is the first to respond. “A chat? Sir?”

Anderson nods. “I understand you two have had a bit of a…struggle with one another since your arrival.”

Caleb sits very still in his chair, opting to stay silent. The little he knows of this man, the few conversations they’ve had and the short time they’ve spent together, all which happened over a couple of years before just prior to his being sent to basic training, now tickles at the back of his mind. Anderson has a wicked sense of humor – that much he recalls. Add in his friendship with Athair, and it only makes the pieces that much more puzzling to put together, but he has an idea. The gleam in Anderson’s eyes is a hint at confirmation.

“Struggle?” Coats exclaims, darting a quick look over at Caleb as he huffs. “That’s putting it mildly.”

Caleb ponders a way to approach it without sounding like an accusation. The man had done him, and by extension Athair, a huge favor, but there were still limits to how far he could presume upon their friendship. Still, something about this current situation suggests he has a bit of leeway. “Sir, was this…a set up?”

Anderson’s gaze zeros in on him with the question, and for the first time, Caleb knows what it means to be targeted ‘in someone’s sights.’ It isn’t a comfortable feeling as such, but he’s sticking to his decision come hell or high water. “’Set up’ might be putting too fine a point on it.”

“So, you’re the one behind this?” Coats, apparently, isn’t afraid to sound accusatory.

“Behind you two being roommates? I am.”

There is a history here between the two, he thinks. Caleb knows from first-hand experience that Anderson is a man who masks his reactions well. Coats is good, but not quite that level of good. He recognizes a knowing glint in Coats’ steely eyes, the twitch of the corner of his lips as they curl upward just enough to form a smug, half-grin. Curious. Caleb sits back to watch.

Basically, I KNEW I wanted Coats and Caleb to be at odds with each other, to be English vs. Irish most of the way through sniper school, but by the end of it, they were going to be best friends. I ALSO knew that Anderson was responsible for it - setting them up as roommates. There’s a history there, between Coats and Anderson, one Caleb really wants to find out (and we likely will find out further details down the road...).

Thanks so much for asking!

#That Scene Meme #ladya writes #Caleb Shepard #Seeing Reds #Young & Proud #thank you so much for asking!#jedirangerpenguin

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crqstalite · 3 years

Text

&burn

thinking about AJ last night and her relationship with kaidan (remember when i said 5/7 of my canon sheps have been paired with him? yeah.) and even though no one asked, i think billie eilish’s &burn fits really well for where her character goes. is it cliche? maybe. but i like this song so there >:(

it’s a bit long. and a bit silly but nonetheless -- first look in AJ herself i guess.

Lips meet teeth and tongue My heart skips eight beats at once (That's better) If we were meant to be, we would have been by now See what you wanna see, all I see is him right now H-h-him right now

Kaidan’s one of the few people AJ’s ever learned to trust by the time Saren’s investigation begins -- she’s the sort of person that refuses to let people get close unless she knows they won’t hurt her. And close often means just learning the name she prefers to go by. She likes to keep people at arms length.

Kaidan is different. Kaidan doesn’t press on her to trust him faster than need be.

She admires that about him. It’s still a slow process to open up to him, but it isn’t as needlessly painful as she’d believed it would be. There’s no fear to actively revealing parts of her character she’d never been able to show before.

It’s new. He’s new. How she smiles whenever she catches his eye is new. She isn’t sure whether she likes it or not. But he does mean a lot to her. She knows he’s a new part of her life she wants to be around. That she actively wants to get to know, that she wants to become part of his.

AJ wonders what’ll become of them after Saren is gone and the mission is over. What does he see her as? A stepping stone to someone better? Or is this real? One of the few things she’s chased after for most of her life?

Someone who loves her unconditionally, platonically and romantically?

She doesn’t know what he is to her. Maybe she doesn’t want to. If she says it out loud, if she says she really cares about him, that she loves him...

My heart skips eight beats at once (That's better)

Will it still be real when she wakes in the morning? Will June and Kaidan still be...

She can’t find the words for it. Nor does she want to. That means making that real. That means putting a name to it. A name means that it exists.

A name means it can be ripped apart.

I'll sit and watch your car burn With the fire that you started in me But you never came back to ask it out Go ahead and watch my heart burn With the fire that you started in me But I'll never let you back to put it out (Thanks)

This is after the Normandy crashes, and the two years have passed where AJ is wondering where he is. Searching for anything she can find to bring him back to her. Looking for anything that she can do to take her life back, to rewind the clock.

Futilely, of course.

With the fire that you started in me But you never came back to ask it out Go ahead and watch my heart burn

And that part specifically is Horizon and everything after it. It isn’t fair, she was so sure that what they had was real. She was always under the assumption that when you found real love, that was forever. That it’d always be there. She thought Ilos and everything that came before and after meant something in the grand scheme of things.

And then he leaves. She watches him leave. She lets him leave, biting her tongue for everything she said, wondering how this encounter could’ve gone differently.

Later, she understands. Later she can rationalize it away. Later, it all makes sense and it doesn’t quite hurt as much. It’s all in character, and it’s fair of him to walk away.

She’d asked too much, pressed too hard, and deserved exactly what happened when he pushed back.

Later isn’t now, though. Now is when she’s hurt and broken and shattered like glass. She sees whatever future they had together go up in flames. That makes her angry, it makes her frustrated that there’s nothing she can do to stop it. There’s nothing she can do to fix it.

She always could fix these things. But she can’t even find the pieces to glue back together. And maybe she doesn’t want to fix anything. Maybe she wants to throw everything off her desk and scream and cry and stop acting like she has everything together when she doesn’t.

The shattered photo on her bedroom floor when the dark energy stops flickering over her is what breaks her completely.

Go ahead and watch my heart burn With the fire that you started in me But I'll never let you back to put it out

Alexandra June AJ doesn’t know if she wants their relationship back or not. She doesn’t know it’s worth letting him come back and re-light the fire he’d set the first time. She burned her hand on this stove once, and she can’t afford to do it again.

7-4-2008, I still remember that Heaven sent a present my way I won't forget your laugh Packing everything when you leave You know you comin' back

Here is where I assume Kaidan is never able to forget about Shepard -- or in this case AJ. He might try in those years she was dead, but no one else is her. The corners of their eyes don’t crinkle the same way her’s do, no one else smiles the same, no one else’s laugh is so muted you consider it treasure enough to even hear it at all. Her voice is sharp but at the same time, the only thing he’s wanted to hear since she died.

And then she was gone. Just like that, a candle light flickered out by the freezing cold of space. Choked out by the air that was supposed to sustain her.

Then she was back. At first he thinks he hallucinating.

He’s not.

It’s whiplash, trying to wrap his head around that. He’d grieved for her for nearly two years by the time he sees her again across that field on Horizon. He isn’t sure that it even is her at first, with the long dark hair missing, a red mop of hair on her head now in it’s place, orange light pulsing behind scars on her face.

The relief in her voice is palpable, the same breathless Kaidan off her lips when she hugs him. It’s the same smile, the same dark eyes he could lose himself in if he let himself go.

She’s here.

But at the same time, she’s not. The scars on her face aren’t her’s. The insignia on one of her’s crew’s armor makes his blood run cold. She’s upset, tripping over her words to try and explain to him why she’s with them.

Cerberus. Them.

Walking away is one of the hardest things he’s had to do. He wonders whether it’s the right decision for a long time.

She doesn’t yell after him. Her voice is strained enough, on the edge of barely held back tears with his name on her lips.

The empty look in her eyes when he’d had to say goodbye haunts his dreams.

I try to wait for the storm to calm down But that's stubborn, baby, leadin' to war We droned down on each other Tryin' to even the score

They live to see the end of the suicide mission. They live to see each other return to Earth. So close, and yet so far. It isn’t the same like when she was dead -- he knows she’s here. He knows she’s alive at least.

She’s aware she’s a walking political catastrophe waiting to happen. Not to mention there are space cthulus on the horizon.

She’s aware he’s here in Vancouver. And very much alive.

Do they miss each other? Or do they miss the idea of each other? Something she’d had to learn, and something he’d had to consider. Was there anyone out there like him? She hadn’t had the chance to look, she hadn’t wanted to look.

He already knew there was no replacing her as is.

They don’t have time to decide.

The Reapers hit Earth.

A storm is whirling around AJ. She barely knows what’s happening anymore, and there’s nothing she can do about any of it. The Reapers are here and destruction reigns. And yet she barely has enough time to process any of it, trying to find an opening to get back to some semblance of normal. She needs to find a crag in the side of the mountain to pull herself back up and stop her fall.

Kaidan.

He nearly dies there on Mars.

That forces her to slow down because it turns her world upside down. It leaves her dizzy and sick because she isn’t sure what she’d do if he died. They may not have been together in years, but he still means everything to her.

She can’t control the Reapers. She can’t control Cerberus. She can slow all of those things down, but nothing she herself does will affect any of those things.

But what she can do here? What she can even do to convince the only man she’s ever loved to trust her again? Is her fear of going back to something real, something with a name going to hold her back from finding a sliver of happiness in this dimming galaxy?

What they can do here? He sees someone else in her shoes, even if it’s still the same AJ he’d spent the night with, she’s changed. For the better, for worse, he can’t tell. Maybe both. Maybe neither. Is it worth the risk of giving himself back to her?

Well, they can try not to burn each other on re-entry.

Go ahead and watch my heart, watch my heart burn You know you coming back, you know you coming back

“I want to understand what this is between us...and make it real. That’s what I want. What do you want?”

“I can’t bury what I feel for you anymore. And I don’t want to.”

Go ahead and watch my heart, watch my heart burn

#AJ shepard #aj/kaidan #song analysis #maybe i should do more of these

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edharrisdaily · 3 years

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Ed Harris talks Kodachrome, Westworld and the state of America

Riding high with his killer role in television’s Westworld, Ed Harris continues to bring the flinty characters that have been the hallmark of his career to the stage and the big screen.

Ed Harris has become something of a symbol for the single-minded American man. He’s used his resonant voice and intense blue-eyed gaze to play cowboys and astronauts, soldiers and sheriffs, artists and assassins.

That means he’s worn many hats: a beret as Kristof, the genius reality-television puppetmaster in The Truman Show; helmets – diving ones and space ones – in The Abyss and The Right Stuff respectively. The latter, in which he played Mercury astronaut John Glenn, proved a career breakthrough: a shot of him as Glenn made the cover of Newsweek just as the real Glenn headed into politics.

There have been plenty of Stetsons, too. He wears a big black one as the merciless Man in Black in the television series Westworld. That character could be a distant relative of the black-hatted title character he played in 1987’s Walker, the craziest movie of his career – well, until last year’s Mother! – about the American who appointed himself president of Nicaragua in the 1850s. It lives on in cult infamy.

On the line from New York, Harris laughs at the millinery-oriented overview of his career. “Ha, ha, ha. I just like wearing hats – especially as I don’t have any hair on top of my head.”

In his new film, Kodachrome, he sports a jaunty Panama to play a famous photographer who embarks with his estranged adult son on a road trip from New York to Kansas, to the last laboratory still processing the colour-slide film of the title.

It’s a relatively low-key role for Harris, not least because his prickly character is dying. “It was a great character to play. I had a really good time doing it.”

He is a man who, it must be said, sounds much friendlier than some of the characters he plays. “How are things in New Zealand?” he asks. Good, thanks. How are things in the US? “Good God almighty,” he chuckles. “Pretty pitiful situation, I guess, at the moment, eh? It’s embarrassing.”

At 67, Harris is a man whose career remains on a steady roll. In the past couple of decades, he’s appeared in plenty of big films but also managed to direct two of his own – notably the acclaimed Pollock, a biopic of the abstract artist Jackson Pollock, in which he also played the title role – and spend time treading the boards of Off-Broadway theatres.

When we talk, he and his wife of 35 years, Amy Madigan, are coming to the end of the season of the David Rabe play Good for Otto in New York. They were on stage together in London early last year, too, in Buried Child by the late Sam Shepard, who was also a Right Stuff alumnus. Do husband and wife come as a package?

“We have of late. It’s been really fun, you know.”

Born in New Jersey, Harris was a high-school athlete and football star before he attended Columbia University, and didn’t take up acting until his family shifted to New Mexico. He studied drama at Oklahoma University, then in Los Angeles, where he’s been based ever since.

He met Madigan when they were both cast in the Depression-era film Places in the Heart, starring Sally Field. They’ve since appeared in nine movies together, including Pollock, in which she played art collector Peggy Guggenheim.

The idea for the film was sparked when Harris’ father gave him a copy of a biography of the artist, but it took 10 years for the actor to get it to the screen.

It won him a best-actor Oscar nomination (co-star Marcia Gay Harden lifted the statuette for best supporting actress) and cemented Harris’ reputation as a single-minded tough nut. He famously smashed a chair on set to give Harden’s performance a jolt.

The film took its toll on the Harris-Madigan family finances. “I spent a ton of my own money on that film. You know I didn’t need to, but I had to. So I wouldn’t have changed that for the world.

“I had spent so much time working on developing the script and working on this guy and painting and getting to know people that knew him and getting the rights to his works … I was totally immersed in it. And I didn’t care what I had to do to make the film right.

“I mixed that film twice completely and went to three different composers. I would have done whatever I had to do to get it what I wanted it to be. I didn’t even think about it. I mean, my wife was kind of going ‘Ed, what are you doing?’. But we survived.”

If Pollock was an artistic triumph in step with his challenging stage work, in the movies Harris remains better known as a go-to guy for a voice of authority: in Apollo 13, he was mission controller Gene Kranz (“Failure is not an option”), and he’s played a fair few sheriffs, colonels and generals.

Nasa – the real one – has asked him a few times to perform narration duties on commemorations. He can’t get away from it in the movies, either. When Sandra Bullock’s stranded astronaut calls Houston in Gravity, that’s Harris responding.

“I mean, I am fascinated by space but it’s not something that’s like a major thing in my life.”

Harris’ commanding tones haven’t always been that commanding. “I used to have a really thick Jersey accent when I was going to college,” he says, “and just over the years, you know, part of my craft is to be able to use my voice appropriately for whatever given character.

“And I actually feel really good about the whole vocal stuff in Kodachrome, because it’s lower-register and pretty relaxed.”

The last time he played a dying man on screen – a poet with Aids in The Hours in 2002 – he got the fourth of his four Oscar nominations for it. Playing another one – and another difficult artist – in Kodachrome was harder than it looks.

“He might not be that active but physically it’s really challenging because he’s hurting, he’s aged, he’s frail. His mind is still sharp. Even to play an invalid you have to be in pretty good shape because you have to be able to use your body in a way that allows you do that.”

The film is also a meditation on the cultural change that has come with an increasingly digitised world. So where does Harris, a man who plays a robot-killing cowboy on television, sit on the digital-analogue spectrum?

“I’m a bit of a dinosaur, I’m afraid. You know it’s passing me by big-time. I am decent on the computer and that kind of thing but first of all I really like film films.

“I take a few decent photos I have a great old Leica camera that I actually used in the movie and I’ve taken some pretty good photographs. But I haven’t done much of late. I’ve been toying with the idea of building a little darkroom and getting to shoot some black and white but that’s just in my head at the moment.”

Presumably the photos would go up on the wall chez Harris-Madigan next to the Pollocks he painted in character.

“Well, a couple of friends got some, and one of the things about making that movie was you would shoot what he might be doing on canvas and you see that. But then to save time and canvas they put the camera back on me painting, and I will be painting over stuff that I thought was actually not so bad and just totally f---ing it up. So there wasn’t that much work left that I thought was decent.”

Harris is hoping to direct a psychological thriller based on Kim Zupan’s 2015 book The Ploughmen, about a Montana deputy sheriff and a local serial killer. Until then, Westworld gives him a regular pay cheque and keeps him busy for most of the year. So does figuring out what is going on in the show.

No, he didn’t know the twist about his character – that another regular character in the wild west android theme park was actually the Man in Black too, at a younger age. And that he owns the place. It was all bit of a surprise.

“You never know where they are going to take you. I’ve never worked on something where you find out in episode six something very basic about your character that might have been nice to know in episode one.

“I think they think that it’s going to keep the actors fresh or something. I told them, ‘Well, you know, last year I did 125 performances of Buried Child, and I knew what the script was going to be and what was going to happen with the character, and the 125th performance was just as fresh and alive as the first one. I don’t have a problem understanding and knowing what is going to happen to my character.’ But whatever.”

He’s not complaining. He has steady work in a high-profile show that is kind of a western, a genre he loves. He directed his own very good one, Appaloosa, in 2008. That one featured Viggo Mortensen, Jeremy Irons, Renée Zellweger and no killer robots. In Westworld he’s enjoying being a gun for hire and wearing that hat of his.

“I like putting on my Man in Black outfit. It makes me feel good.”

#ed harris #interview #q

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annakie · 4 years

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Am I once again posting about the Voyager Relaunch Novels? Yes. Yes I am.

I am re-reading the Post-Endgame Voyager Relaunch novels and marathoned reading The Eternal Tide over the last two nights and all I have to say is Janeway and Chakotay love each other so much, I was literally sobbing through about six sections of the second half of that book.

The Kirsten Beyer books are SO GOOD. And as I’m re-reading them I love how she handles every single one of the Voyager characters but especially Chakotay. I feel like she understands Chakotay and gives him everything the writers of Voyager never quite grasped about his character in seven seasons. Full Circle is such a powerful story of his love and his grief, and the rest of the crew’s love for him (especially Tom, B’lanna, Harry and Sev-- wow his friendship with Seven is so awesome throughout the Beyer books, everything it should have been in the show and not what we got in Endgame. The support they have for each other without forcing a cringey relationship back onto them adds so much to BOTH of their characters. Hey this paragraph went way off the rails but I don’t care.)

Anyway I really love the plots of each of these books, I love how they handle EVERY character (well, I miss Tuvok -- at some point I’m gonna get to the Titan novels) and the new characters are pretty great (oh man Cambridge is a fave, and so much better than the new consular that was introduced in the Spirit Walk books. Loved Eden, love Farkas.)

I made a post a few days ago about how Chakotay is the whole “upstanding, solid, good guy” archetype that some people dare to call “boring” I’ve previously talked at length in a post about Mass Effect about how that’s just... my favorite kind of character. And Chakotay is just... so that. It also made me realize that the Janeway / Chakotay dynamic is also very similar to a Shepard / Kaidan dynamic (powerful commanding officer of her own ship woman character, solid, good, honorable mature right-hand man first officer (or close to it) male character and maybe that’s why they’re both two of my favorite ships.

Anwyay here’s some spoilery thoughts about The Eternal Tide.

Chakotay telling Seven about his relationship with Janeway evolving before she died, and how he doesn’t think he’ll ever love any other woman!

Confirmation that Chakotay was thinking about proposing when they were supposed to met in Venice!??! What!?

Janeway thinking about Chakotay right after her resurrection and how deeply she feels for him and wondering about how her death affected him! Also I kind of love that Chakotay DIDN’T come to her mind when deciding whether to return to life or not? This was her decision and making it about A Man I think would have made it feel less about her and how she knew she would be taking responsibility for The Multiverse, which is what it absolutely should have been about. Realizing what her death would have done to him basically the second she was alive again... that part was so well written. I loved it. Her relationship shouldn’t become the basis of who she is -- but it adds to her.

Their... reunion... scene... almost being ruined by Q... Chakotay’s utter shock and disbelief and the description of him slowly beginning to have his heart open up to the possibility, him inching closer to her as she’s thinking that maybe she’s made a mistake and understands just how deeply her death hurt him... that.... entire... SCENE. (Actually about once a year I dig that book and Full Circle out just to read their getting together / reunion scenes.)

Getting Seven’s reaction to Janeway was also very, very good. I wish they hadn’t cut past the scene where the rest of the Voyager staff sees her for the first time but we did get a little taste of it.

Um okay and then Janeway tells Chakotay she loves him for the first time and he says it back, naturally but like, this is as Chakotay was preparing to go on a suicide mission? SOBBING. They didn’t even get a day together, but at least they got to say goodbye this time.

Janeway forcing herself not to think about Chakotay’s death because things just got so much more dire.

Yes they won, but Janeway all alone on the battle bridge and she can’t even bring herself to contact Voyager yet because she just needs time to mourn Chakotay for a few seconds and takes a few seconds, a few breaths, a few moments... and then... OMG.... Chakotay is returned by Godson Q just before his death and they’re so happy... I CANNOT.

THE EPILOGUE where they’re in bed and had spent every possible moment together and so casual and free and happy together... it’s everything we ever wanted for seven seasons and seven more books.

Oh I started this post now almost a week ago and now I’m a few books forward and hey am I now going to talk about Protectors? Yes, yes I am.

J/C don’t get to spend a lot of time together in this book. Janeway gets sent back to the Alpha Quadrant to undergo counseling and evaluation which, tbh, is totally valid considering she DIED A VIOLENT HORRIBLE DEATH and then WAS DEAD FOR FOURTEEN MONTHS and then you know RESURRECTED AND IMMEDIATELY HAD TO SAVE THE MULTIVERSE oh yeah not to mention WAS REUNITED WITH THEN HAD TO TELL CHAKOTAY GOODBYE FOREVER A FEW HOURS LATER then oh wait THE MAN SHE LOVES WAS ALSO BROUGHT BACK FROM THE DEAD (or the brink of death, whatever.)

There’s a short and sweet goodbye scene then for the bulk of the book Janeway is back on Earth going to counseling (which, that second counseling scene was so great, and seeing her slow down and enjoy life with her mother was so great, and um also that scene with her and Picard? Wow. Just Wow. Also I can’t wait to go back and read some TNG books because I need to see JL/B actually get together.) And the entire time she’s just like... not even doubting her relationship with Chakotay even a little. She thinks of him and is excited to be reunited but every time it’s like “the man I love” “The person I plan on spending the rest of my life with” and even “the love of my life.” WOW. Just Wow. Chakotay worries a bit but never doubts.

Oh and then she basically tells her commanding officer “yeah um, thanks but I absolutely have no plans on curbing my relationship with Chakotay to make you feel more comfortable. Also JL/B and Riker/Troi are all married so fuck you?” She does agree to keep separate quarters on another ship which is like.. fine... whatever. But also her going “Yes he’s my subordinate but we’re not going to let that affect our working relationship, we’re adults.” Fuck. Yeah. Montgomery asks if they’re gonna get married and Janeway is all “IDK, probably? We’ll let you know.”

And B’Elanna asks Chakotay the same thing and his answer is also basically “Yeah at some point, we haven’t talked about it yet but yeah we’re spending the rest of our lives together now stop prodding me.”

Their reunion when she returns doesn’t go as planned and it’s a teensy bit worrisome at the end but with notes of positivity.

OK I’m only about 1/3rd into Acts of Contrition but I got to a part last night that made me put the book down for a minute and thank Kirsten Beyer out loud.

J/C finally get to spend some time alone several days after she makes it back to the fleet in the Delta Quadrant. They have a brief discussion about The Plot, then Chakotay is like “Know what? We’ll talk about The Plot Stuff tomorrow in the briefing. Let’s instead talk about us.” And then he stands up for what he wants! And Janeway listens, and they talk, and agree! And then Chakotay is like “Okay, now I really want to hear about what happened to you back on Earth for all those weeks!” So... literally they just... sit and talk for several hours like, I don’t know, real people would? There’s no drama! And they both affirm their commitment to each other and their relationship!

It’s just... it’s... so good? Their relationship is so solid! They LOVE EACH OTHER and it’s based on their solid friendship (something else they actually say out loud!) and they talk to each other and there’s no like drama for drama’s sake about their relationship so far and it’s like, better than even any fanfic I’ve ever read (and there’s some great fic out there for these two) because nearly every other character is also getting their screentime and character development (minus Tuvok -- who’s off with Riker and Troi on the Titan and Neelix isn’t around much -- though he’s spoken of and we see him a bit when they visit New Talax). Also it’s... beta canon. No matter what, this is real and accepted beta canon.

I have been going back and listening to all the episodes of the Literary Trek podcast episodes about these books, and for Eternal Tide and Protectors Beyer herself was on the podcast and listening to her talk about Chakotay and Janeway both individually and as a couple her love for them both is clear, she loves the show and knows what she’s doing and is allowed to do it, and her writing is so damn good. One of the hosts of the podcast has said in several episodes that he used to really dislike Chakotay as he was in the show and now book Chakotay is one of his favorite characters. And honestly? I do love show Chakotay but book Chakotay is... everything show Chakotay should have been. But he’s also been through hell and back and I love how Beyer used that experience -- and now Janeway’s resurrection experience -- to advance them BOTH individually and how that’s affected them as a couple now that they actually get to be that.

There’s so much other good in these books. Tom and B’Elanna’s storyline and the way she writes them and their marriage... I could write so much about it. Harry gets better characterization! A plotline! A promotion! A love interest that may actually work out?!!? We’ll see. And SEVEN. Wow. So much happens with Seven and it’s so great, I love her so much and Book Seven is again, even better.

Two more books have come out since the last time I read the series and the final book comes out next month, I can’t wait to see all the great moments Beyer has coming up for them. It also makes me twice as happy that Beyer is so involved with Picard. It’s so clear the love she has for these two and I can’t imagine J/C not still being Alpha canon with her involved.

#star trek #voyager #janeway x chakotay #kathryn janeway #chakotay #Kirsten beyer #annakie's misc stuff

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kya-chan14 · 5 years

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Garrus x Reader Pt. 1

Note: In this story you are Fem!shepard’s little sister. In the first ME I imagine Shepard being around her early thirties, so i put the reader in her early twenties - so you’re fairly new in the alliance. Plus, your have like a goth/emo look. Idk what’s it called. (You watch NCIS? You know Abby? The forensics scientist. Yeah, you’re like her and Mordin combined. I wanted to make it fun.)

Summary: Unlike your sister, you prefer to stay out of the line of fire. You were training to be an engineer/scientist. You know, calibrating heavy weaponry or repairing vehicles, stuff like that. But when your sister requests to have you on the Normandy with her when she goes to fight Saren, your in for the roller coaster of your life.

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Both of your parents were in the alliance military. You and your sister’s childhood was spent on ships and stations as they transferred from posting to posting, never staying in the same location for more than a few years. Following in your parents’ footsteps, your sister enlisted at the age of eighteen. Ten years later, now your able to enlist as well. You wanted to be in a totally different department though. You wanted to be a scientist and engineer.

Your sister proved herself at Akuze, showing that she is a sole survivor. Jane Shepard, the best hope humanity has for finding their place in the council. You’re proud of her, you’re happy to say, ‘That’s my big sis!’ All the stories she has to share and her captain is amazing. Part of you wishes you could go with her on all of these adventures, but on the other hand you’re not a soldier. You’re just someone you studies forensics and mechanics.

You don’t plan on staying in the shadows for long though. One day you’re going to prove to your sister that you are just as great in the lab as she is on the battlefield. You do have a goal to accomplish after all, to cure the genophage. You’ve wanted to ever since you learned about the history of the Krogan.

Anyways, right now you’re still in alliance training back on Earth. The last time you heard from Jane, she said she was on a shake down run on a prototype war ship on her way to Eden Prime. She didn’t tell you anything else, she couldn’t. On a need-to-know basis. And I didn’t need to know. This happened about two days ago. Now you didn’t even know if she was alive.

While you were finishing your report on a deceased rabbit, which died from a new species of a poisonous snake, one of your team mates sent you a message on your omni-tool and requested you to meet in the mess hall.

“Shepard, this is Wilson. We’re all in the mess listening to the news, there’s something that I believe you’d be interested in. Put down the scalpel for once and come see this.”

You were hesitant about leaving your work, but you left the lab and headed for the mess regardless.

When you arrived you found that a crowd was already there. You made your way through and found Wilson.

“I’m here, now what is it you wanted me to hear?”

He then walked away and helped Adams turned on the radio. When it comes on, you couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“In the light of the recent attack on Eden Prime, many colonial investors are pulling there support for future projects. Proponents of expanded human colonization insist that Eden Prime was a isolated case. Nevertheless, colonist enrollment has dropped sharply. Many colonial proposals are on hold until backers have some reassurance that human colonies will be adequately protected.”

You turned to Wilson confused.

“What hit them?”

“Geth. Word is that there was an army of the swarming Eden Prime.”

“Bullcrap. The Geth haven’t left the veil in about 200 years.”

“You’re not the only one to say that, but it’s true.” Wilson set a hand on your shoulder. “I know your sister was there when the attack hit and I already talked to the Instructor. A ship is waiting at the docks to take you to the Citadel.”

You looked at him dumbfounded. So many questions going through your head, but right now you didn’t care. You were just thankful to have such a good friend.

“Thank you Wilson. You’re a damn good friend.” After you said your piece, you were gone. You had to see Jane. Make sure she was alive.

---

After the long flight you had finally arrived at the Citadel.You raced for C-sec knowing that they should hold some record for your sisters whereabouts. You did your best to not bump into anyone on your way there.

Once you’ve finally made it, you raced in and asked the first officer you saw. A human.

“Excuse me sir, I’m looking for my sister! She’s known as Commander Shepa-”

“I’m going to stop you right there girl.”

The officer held up his hand in a moment of silence. He looked annoyed.

“Number one, you don’t just run in here like a maniac. Two, there’s no need to yell. And three, you expect me to believe you are related to Commander Shepard?”

“Why not?”

“Look at you!”

He gestured to your being as a whole.

“You look as far from a military family than a whale compared to a fish.”

“So just because I dress differently, you’re not going to help me?”

“Get out of her kid.”

You shake your head in annoyance and walk away. If someone was going to judge your relations through your attire, than you were going to have a harder time finding information than originally planned.

You started thinking of all the ways you could find her. Hell, you even thought of going to the shadow broker just to find out if Jane was alive or not. You didn’t know what else to do. You were scared, you weren’t sure if you wanted to know what happened to her. But you had to find her regardless.

You started wonder the back alleys for anything or anyone to help you get in touch with your sister. Instead you came across a group of people who you got a bad vibe from. A quarian standing in the middle of it all, you had a feeling she was in trouble.

“Where’s the shadow broker? Where’s Fist?” She seemed suspicious, looks like she got the same vibes.

“They’ll be here. Where’s the evidence?” A turian ran his hand on her sensually. The quarian pushed it away.

“No way. The deal’s off.”

She started walking away until the turian pulled out a gun and aimed it right for her. On instinct you pulled out your own firearm and shot the turian. The Quarian whipped around in surprise to hear a gunshot. Then it turned into an all out fire fight. The quarian on one end, and you at the other.

You were only trained with a pistol, so you couldn’t do much damage. On the other hand, the quarian had a damn shotgun! In the end, together you neutralized the threat. She approached you in a calm manner.

“Thank you for your help. If you hadn’t shown up, I’d be dead. But, how do you know they were the bad guys?”

“ At the mention of evidence and a deal, that was proof enough they weren’t C-sec. And it’s not cool to shoot someone in the back.”

“Well thanks. Not many people would stick up for a quarian, let alone save their life.”

“Meh. Let those people burn in hell. They’re assholes.”

She laughed at the remark.

“What is your name?”

“(Y/N) Shepard. I’m a trainee of the alliance.”

“A soldier?”

“No no, just an engineer and Forensics scientist. Nothing to flashy.”

“Ah.”

“She’s a lot more than what she let’s on.”

A new voice has joined the conversation. One you recognized well.

You turned around to find your sister accompanied by a krogan and a turian.

“Jane!”

You didn’t care how childish it looked to charged at her with your biggest hug.

“I was so scared! I thought...... I actually thought you were..”

“Hey, calm down. I’m alright.”

She gave a hug in return. You stayed there while she started talking to the quarian.

“You must be the quarian, Fist was after.”

“That’s right. He set me up! I knew I couldn’t trust him.”

“Were you hurt?”

“I know how to look out for myself. Not that I don’t appreciate the help. Who are you?”

“I’m Commander Shepard of the Alliance Navy. I’m looking for evidence to prove Saren’s a traitor.”

“Then I have a chance to repay (Y/N) for saving my life. But not here. We need to go somewhere safe.”

“We could take her to the human embassy. Your ambassador will want to see this anyway.”

That was a different voice, a deep one, belonged to a man. Right now though, you didn’t care. You were too busy crying silently into your sister’s chest. She even picked you up and started walking. Man do you have an awesome sister.

------

“You’re not making my life easy, Shepard. Firefights in the wards? An all-out assault on Chora’s Den? Do you know how many- Who’s this? A quarian? A little girl? What are you up to Shepard?”

THIS, is the human ambassador? What an impression he puts off. You already hated him.

“This quarian and ‘little girl’ can help us bring down Saren. I would’ve told you that if you hadn’t jumped down my throat.”

You smirked when Jane put out that last comment. You were happy to have a sister that didn’t take shit from anyone. But, what was that part about taking down Saren. Who even was Saren!?

“I apologize, Commander. This whole thing with Saren has me a bit on edge.”

Bullshit.

“Maybe we should start at the beginning, Miss...?”

“My name is Tali. Tali’ Zorah nar Rayya.”

“We don’t see many quarians here. Why did you leave the flotilla?”

“I was on my pilgrimage. My rite of passage to adulthood.”

Jane jumped in.

“Tell us what you found.”

Tali nodded.

“During my travels I began hearing reports of geth. Since they drove my people into exile the geth never ventured beyond the veil. I was curious. I tracked a patrol of geth to an uncharted world. I waited for one to become seperated from it’s unit. Then I disabled and removed it’s memory core.”

“I thought the geth fried their memory cores when they died. Some kind of defense mechanism.”

You didn’t know this one, but his presence alone told you he was to be respected. Though he didn’t seem like the others who always demanded it. Maybe it was Captain Anderson? Jane told you a little about him in her messages.

This time, You butted into the conversation.

“Is that true. How did you get anything?” As a fellow engineer, you were curious how she managed something like that.

“My people created the geth, if your quick, careful, and lucky small caches of data can sometimes be saved. Most of the core was wiped clean, but I salvaged something from it’s audio banks.”

Tali then went onto her omi-tool and started playing us something. It was a man’s voice. Deep but hollow.

“Eden Prime was a major victory. The beacon has brought us one step closer to finding the conduit”

“That’s Saren’s voice! This proves he was involved in the attack.” Anderson exclaims. The way he reacted to that recording though, kinda made you think there was more to this than just a normal geth attack. You knew people were throwing a fit because it was a human colony but, humans have killed humans for years. What’s so different about a turian doing the work instead?

“He said Eden Prime has brought him one step closer to finding the conduit. Any idea on what that means?” Jane seemed to be more into this than you were. Then again, you had no idea what was going on. You only came here to make sure she was alive, not to join some man hunt.

“The conduit must have something to do with the beacon. Maybe it’s some kind of Prothean technology. Like a weapon.” Anderson and Jane were thinking of all sorts of possibilities of what could happen.

“Wait, there’s more. Saren wasn’t working alone.”

Tali wasn’t done with her presentation yet and played the recording again.

“Eden Prime was a major victory. The Beacon has brought us one step closer to finding the conduit”

“And one step closer to the return of the reapers.”

That was a woman’s voice, it was deep, sinister almost. But somehow wise.

“I don’t recognize that other voice, the one talking about reapers.”

The ambassador stated as if he was trying to end it there. Though, Jane was pondering over the name.

“I feel like I’ve heard that name before.”

Tali saw the confusion in everyone and shared what she knew about the reapers.

“According to the memory core, reapers were a advanced machine race that existed 50,000 years ago. The rapers hunted to protheans to total extinction and than they vanished! At least, that’s what the geth believe.”

“Sounds a little far fetched.”

What a shocker, a politician shoving away a possible threat just because it’s ‘far fetched’.

“The vision on Eden Prime, I understand it now.”

You looked at your sister like she was crazy.

“Vision?”

“I saw the protheans being wiped out by the reapers.”

“The geth revere the reapers as gods, the pinnacle of non organic life. And they believe Saren knows how to bring the reapers back.” Tali explained.

“The council is just going to love this.” The ambassador grumbled at this so called fairy tale.

Jane seemed to truly be expecting the reapers, so you believed what she said before about her vision. You would stand by her in any situation if you could. She’s always been there for you, it was time to repay her.

“This is a lot to handle. They might just ignore everything we tell them.”

“No matter what they think of the rest of this, those audio files proves Saren’s a traitor.” Anderson sounded excited over the whole idea of bringing this Saren down.

“The captain’s right. We need to present this to the council right away.”

“What about the Quarian?” The krogan that was following Jane finally speaks!

“Umm, her name is Tali.” You said politely but quietly.

“Thank you, (Y/N).” She slightly bowed her head at you in appreciation, then faced your sister. “You saw me in the alley way commander, you know what I can do. Let me come with you.”

You could tell that Tali was hoping to tag along instead of being stuck somewhere she isn’t treated with respect. You didn’t blame her, you would do anything just to get away from such a life.

“I thought you were on your pilgrimage?”

“The pilgrimage proves we are willing to give up ourselves for the greater good. What does it say about me if I turn my back on something like this. Saren is a danger to the entire galaxy. My pilgrimage can wait.”

“In that case, I’ll take all the help I can get.”

“Thanks. You won’t regret this.”

“What do you plan on doing with the girl commander? She seems confused over everything we have talked about.” After the ambassador’s question, everyone’s eyes were now on you. You shifted uncomfortably.

“This girl, is my little sister. She’s ten years younger than me.” Jane set a hand on your shoulder while she faced the captain and the ambassador.

“You’re right, she has no idea what’s going on. Knowing her, she more than likely only came here to see if I was alright after hearing about the attack on Eden Prime.” She then looked at her smugly. “Am I right?”

You just glared at her. “Fine next time I won’t care if you’re dead or alive.”

“Well then it’s probably best she stays out of it. Meet us at the Presidium commander. I’ll give you time to send your sister on the first flight home.”

The ambassador didn’t like the idea of some child joining a fight. Even if she was a Shepard.

He left the room and Anderson left behind him. It was then just you, your sister, and her new friends. You spoke up first.

“You’re not really going to send me home are you?”

“Depends. There’ll probably be danger on every corner here, (Y/N).”

You looked at her with a smile. “I eat danger for breakfast.”

“Well then. Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

#garrus vakarian #garrus x reader #garrus vakarian x reader #mass effect #x reader #fanfic #video games

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bagog · 5 years

Text

Kaidan Appreciation Week, 2019 - Free Day

This one is pretty long, so I’ll probably post it to AO3 i you’d rather wait to read it there. Also posting it late. Oh well, may Kaidan Week live on in your hearts every day of the year, @spectrekaidanalenko

Kaidan had taken a cab back to his and Shepard’s apartment on the Silver Sun Strip, the top button on his tailored suit undone. As he took the elevator up to their level, he sighed, leaned back against the wall of the lift. It was late, and even so, the day had sped past, and Kaidan almost felt bad about that. Almost. He was ready for his retirement, no matter how much the young man in his head cried out that there was still more he should be doing. Kaidan smiled, remembering himself as a young soldier. Back when duty was the only thing in his head besides the migraines. There was still that young man inside him, somewhere—Shepard sometimes talked about it, even, when Kaidan got upset and lost his composure, when he played with his grandkids, sometimes when they made love—but nowadays, Kaidan accepted it as a part of him. It was like listening to a long-standing councilor, reminding him why he had done the things he’d done, made the choices he’d made, to remind him of the passions that drove him. Kaidan let that little voice pass through his head, urging him back to work. Back into the fray. Other things had become important to him. He looked down at his wedding ring, so tightly fixed to his finger he doubted he could even pull it off.

There had been a ceremony for his retirement, a small affair, despite the fact that Kaidan’s retiring was big news. He had become somewhat accustomed to hearing about himself around the Citadel on extranet audio feeds, but it was the first time where the news sounded resoundingly positive. Kaidan sighed, he wouldn’t be in the news anymore. What a relief. He honestly hadn’t allowed himself to look forward to his retirement, not the specifics, anyway. He probably wouldn’t feel the pull to go back to work right away tomorrow morning, but within a week he was almost positive he’d be bored. Shepard had retired years earlier, and had made it work somehow. Shepard was even more likely to be drawn back into things than Kaidan was, and somehow he had become an exemplar retiree. Of course, he’d had their kids to raise as a stay-at-home dad. And he had his models, and his writing.

“I need a hobby. Or I need to see if Alice will bring the kids around, more often,” he muttered to himself, stepping off the elevator. Walking to his apartment door, he waved his omni-tool over the sensor, but nothing happened, the holo-disk on the door remaining a fixed red. He waved his omni-tool again, still nothing. He thought for a moment about hacking the door—it would feel good to sink into some tech fiddling, again—but instead he rang the door chime. There was a long pause, then Shepard’s face was filling the reception screen.

“Oh Kaidan, you’re back. I thought you’d be at the retirement party for a little while longer.”

“I excused myself early,” Kaidan waved his hand as if to brush away Shepard’s question. “Hey, why isn’t my omni-tool opening the door lock?”

“I, uh, changed the locks.” The crinkles around Shepard’s eyes deepened as he tried to grin to ease the tension.

“Um. Why?”

“You’ll see. Here, I’ll open the door just give me a second.” The reception screen went dead. Kaidan could swear he heard fumbling from the other side of the door, but it was probably just his imagination. He hadn’t thought much about it when Shepard excused himself from the official retirement party, but now he was suspicious. A moment later, the holo-disk on the door flashed green and Kaidan walked in.

“Surprise!”

Shepard stood in front of the door, arms outstretched. Behind him stood his old friends. Garrus and Tali raising a glass to him, Liara not looking a day over 130, Joker sitting on the couch craning over the back to raise his glass as well, EDI standing by his side. A large holographic display above the mantle said “HAPPY RETIREMENT”.

“What’s this?” The laughter bubbled out of him, and Shepard stepped forward to give him a gentle kiss on the lips.

“It’s your real retirement party,” Shepard smiled mischievously. “I knew those suits on the Council wouldn’t know how to send you off in style.”

“What are you all doing here?” Kaidan stepped farther into the room, surveying the cluster of friends with incredulity.

“Just happened to be in the area,” Garrus said. It was odd to see him without his tactical visor, even if he hadn’t been wearing it in years. He was so much older than Kaidan remembered, but then again, Kaidan wasn’t one to talk.

“I call bullshit.” Kaidan chuckled. Tali rested a hand on Garrus’ shoulder.

“What are a few thousand light years between old friends?”

“And Liara,” Kaidan turned as Liara handed him a flute of champagne. “You haven’t come to the Citadel in years.”

“I decided it was worth breaking my self-imposed exile to come help you celebrate.”

“Joker, it’s good to see you!” Kaidan clinked his glass against Joker’s.

“Yeah, well, Earth was getting boring and I still owe Shepard a favor or two,” he smirked.

“Jeff has been looking forward to attending this party for some time,” EDI assured with her own soft smile. The nuance in her expressions had evolved over time, and the dermal fabrication she was now outfitted with did a lot to help her overall relatability. “As have I. Many happy returns, Kaidan.”

“I tried to wrangle up as many people as I could, but I knew you’d want to keep it small.” Shepard stepped behind him and rested a hand on the small of his back.

“It’s perfect.” Kaidan sipped at the champagne. “I can’t tell you how good it is to see you all here.”

“Here, you give me this,” Shepard plucked the glass from his hand. “And you go upstairs and change into something comfortable.” He fussed with Kaidan’s unbuttoned collar for a moment, running his hand down the stiff material of the suit. “Then we can cut the cake.”

“You got a cake?”

“You losing your hearing on me, Alenko?” Shepard raised a mischievous eyebrow. “Now, go get changed!”

Kaidan stepped up the stairs as the small party settled themselves on couches around the fireplace. In his and Shepard’s room, he stripped out of his suit and walked into the closet. He surveyed the clothes inside—day-off clothes. Now they were going to be his every day apparel. He considered taking a quick shower, but decided he didn’t want to keep his guests waiting and put on a pair of jeans and a button down flannel.

There was lively conversation happening downstairs by the time Kaidan stepped up to the balcony. It made him smile to see everyone talking and laughing. It had been years since they’d all been in the same room. Kaidan had seen each of them over the years as they came to visit Shepard while on the Citadel, but to have his crewmates all under one roof was a special treat. By this point in their lives, they’d spent more time separated from one another than together, but after what they had all shared, there were few people in the galaxy they were closer to than each other, even after all this time.

“Kaidan!” Tali exclaimed when he came back down the stairs and joined Shepard on the couch, retrieving his champagne flute. “You look good! Shepard, how come you didn’t age as gracefully as your husband, hm?”

“Very funny. I know what a lucky man I am.” He put his hand on Kaidan’s knee and gave his husband a wide smile.

“Not fair to be criticizing other people getting older when you get to wear a mask every day.” Joker was pouring himself another glass of champagne, setting the empty bottle back on the table to join the three empty bottles there already.

“Get to wear a mask?” Tali said. “Same as you get to wear that exoskeleton, I suppose?”

“Oh please,” Joker patted the metal exoframe on his legs. “I could take this off any time I wanted.”

“Kaidan doesn’t need you breaking a bone at his party, old man,” Garrus said, dryly. “And I don’t think EDI wants to carry your ass to a hospital if you do.”

“You’re just smug because your face was already so messed up, no one could tell you were getting older,” Joker said.

“Turians don’t get wrinkles.”

“Neither do asari,” Liara offered, giving Joker a little smile over the lip of her glass.

“You pipe down, young lady,” Joker said. “We’re all going to be dead before anyone gets to call you old.”

“Now that’s a depressing thought.” Tali crossed one leg over the other.

“Good thing I have plenty of good memories to keep me company,” Liara had a twinkle in her eye. “Not to mention records of all your personal files.

“I don’t envy you the things you must have seen,” Kaidan laughed.

“Laugh it up,” Joker shook his head. “I’ll still be sitting pretty when the rest of you are dust.” He turned to Liara, “Except you.” He turned back to EDI, “And you.”

“Keelah can we talk about something else?”

“You started it,” Shepard teased, stretching one arm and resting it behind Kaidan’s shoulders.

“I just gave a simple compliment to the man of honor on the occasion of his retirement.” Tali orated a little too loudly, sounding like she’d been indulging in the champagne while Kaidan was upstairs. She jerked a thumb at Joker, “Then chuckles over here decided to make things personal. And talking about death.”

“’Chuckles?’” Joker scoffed. “When did this become a gang-up-on-Joker party?”

“You make it too easy,” EDI said.

“After all the times I saved all of your asses,” Joker shook his head.

“Still, Joker’s right,” Garrus sat up a little straighter, probably exercising a crick in his back. “This is supposed to be Kaidan’s night.” He turned to Kaidan, “Let me just say, Kaidan, that the first time I met you, I thought you were a helluva soldier, if a little uptight—“

“You were the one with a stick up your ass,” Joker murmured into his champagne flute.

“—I remember our first mission together, hunting down Fist—“

“I wasn’t there for that,” Kaidan raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, it was you and Wrex,” Shepard said.

“Look, are you going to let me tell my story, here, or what?” Shepard and Kaidan both chuckled and nodded for Garrus to continue. “So alright, I don’t remember our first mission together. But I do remember the first conversation we ever had on the Normandy. We talked about you joining the Alliance.”

“That’s right,” Kaidan could hardly believe he could remember. “I was telling you about the day I joined the Alliance.”

Garrus nodded.

“When I found out you were a biotic, and later when I found out you had an L2 implant, I couldn’t believe the Alliance was willing to take a chance on you.”

“They weren’t going to, at first.”

“Well, I’m glad they took a chance on you. Best decision the Alliance ever made, if you ask me. Glad I gave you a chance, too. Here’s to you.”

“I do remember my first mission with Kaidan,” Tali spoke up as soon as Garrus had raised his glass. “We were on that god-awful planet fiddling with that downed probe.”

“This I don’t remember,” Kaidan shrugged.

“There were downed probes all over the place, and Shepard brought us as his tech experts. I remember you tried decrypting the information using a double-diffusion decompression matrix!”

“No way would I have done that, even back then!”

“You did! I remember because I thought it was silly.”

“That would be silly, jeez, what was I thinking?” He turned to Shepard, “Do you remember this?”

“Another planet, another downed probe. They all bleed together,” Shepard shrugged.

“Well anyway, I thought you were an idiot, but somehow you managed to catch your mistake and decrypt most of the data. I couldn’t believe it!”

“That would’ve back when I had that overclocked Cission pro.”

“Alright nerds, get to the point,” Joker huffed.

“Anyway, on the ride back to our pick-up, I asked you about what you would’ve done if you hadn’t joined the Alliance.” She tilted her head expectantly.

“I wanted to be a painter,” Kaidan laughed, enjoying the memories and the heady rush of the champagne.

“That’s what you told me,” Tali said. “You were one of the first humans I ever got to know. You’ve always been such a hard worker, such a good friend, such a good judge of character, I just expected all humans to be like that. Didn’t take me long to realize you were special. And I’m glad you’ll get to settle down, now.”

“Thank you, Tali,” Kaidan smiled warmly.

“I remember when you first promoted to Staff Commander,” Liara spoke up. “You came to visit me on Ilium. As I recall, it was the first time I found out you had feelings for Shepard.”

“This was while Shepard was dead that first time?” Garrus asked, Shepard leaned in as well. Liara nodded.

“You were feeling emotional about outranking Shepard. It took everything I had not to tell you that I’d recovered his body and given it to Cerberus.”

“Yeah, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to get your hopes up. I had acted impulsively, giving Shepard over to Cerberus like that. To be honest, I probably felt a little guilty, too.”

“Well, I for one, am glad you did what you did.” Shepard squeezed Kaidan’s shoulder.

“Me too,” Kaidan said.

“Hearing the way you talked about Shepard made me realize how much you loved him. Made me even more determined to hold Cerberus to account.”

“I think you might’ve known more about me than I knew about myself, that day. I don’t know how much I knew about my feelings toward Shepard, then.”

“I had such a hard time talking to you once we met back on Mars. But you never brought it up.” She looked up from staring at her hands, “You’ve been a great friend to me, Kaidan.”

“So have you, Liara.”

“So how about you Shepard?” Joker asked, sipping from his champagne. “You’re bound to have lots of great memories about Kaidan.”

“I was just thinking about our first date,” Shepard grinned.

“At Apollo’s?” Kaidan asked.

“Well, yeah. But also our first real date.” Kaidan raised an eyebrow, shook his head. “You know,” Shepard winked. “The Presidium hotel?”

Kaidan’s eyes got wide at the sudden recollection.

“God, Shepard!”

“Oh boy, this I don’t need to hear,” Tali laughed.

“What?” Shepard surveyed his guests with a look of mock indignation. “You’ve all got good memories of Kaidan, mine are just better.” He shrugged.

“It sounds very romantic,” EDI offered.

“Among other things,” Joker said. “What’s with all the memories, anyway? This is a retirement party, not a wake.”

“You were the one talking about death before!” Shepard retorted.

“I remember the first time I was introduced to your son,” EDI continued, undeterred. “I had never considered the idea of ‘family’ before. My crew were my family, as far as I was concerned. You told me that you and Shepard had been at a children’s charity and decided to become fathers. I found it strange, at first, that you would want to raise a child in a world that had been ravaged by the Reapers. You told me, Kaidan, that the future was coming one way or another, and we could either work to make it the brightest future we could, or else we could let it pass us by.” She smiled, “Thank you for teaching me that family are the people who make the future bright.”

“Thank you, EDI,” Kaidan said, voice thick with emotion.

“Come on,” Joker rallied. “Your turn, Kaidan. Speech!”

“Speech!” Garrus repeated.

Shepard nudged Kaidan in his ribs and Kaidan sighed.

“Well, I thought now that I was retired, I could finally be done with public speaking, but I guess one last speech won’t hurt.” He stood up, held his glass close to his chest. “There have been a lot of moments in my life that have really come to define who I am as a person, and I’ve been lucky to have people there for me every step of the way. I’ve had a pretty great life, had a lot more chances than I deserve…” he looked down, momentarily at a loss for words. He remembered a time long ago, when Shepard was under house arrest, where he wanted to finally confess his feelings, admit he was wrong, or even just fill Shepard in on his promotion to Major. He hadn’t done it, then, hadn’t spoken up. He decided to speak now. “I’ve raised some wonderful kids, I’m so proud of my grandkids. I married a great man. I’d like to think I did good work. I couldn’t have done any of it without the support of the people in my life. EDI, what I told you about family is still true, more than just my friends or my shipmates, you’ve all made my future a brighter place. You’re all my family.” He raised his glass. “It’s been a wild ride. Can’t imagine sharing it with anyone else.”

“Hear, hear!” Shepard said, standing and pressing a kiss to Kaidan’s cheek.

The old shipmates all stood, bringing their glasses together in the center of the gathering, clinking loudly. They talked long into the night, reminiscing on old times and filling one another in on new milestones. Tomorrow, Kaidan would start a new chapter in his life, and he was proud to be turning the page with these people.

#fanfic #mass effect #kaidan alenko #mshenko #kaidanweek2019 #fluff

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spaceskam · 5 years

Note

“We’ll get him back, Michael, I promise.” Isobel says as she cradles a wrecked Michael in her chest.” Ok so it’s my first time sending in a prompt, love your writing! This based on the S2 synopsis, Alex gets kidnapped and Michael is at loss, happy ending please ❤️

Also: “I’m going to find him. If it’s the last thing I’m going to do, I’m going to find him.” Alex is kidnapped and Michael won’t take No as an answer.Also: inspired by vlamis saying that all Guerin wants is to be Alex’s hero

so idk how good this is because i’m actually terrible at coming up with scheming like idk how people do it, just come up with in depth smart plans for their characters to have, i’m atrocious at it. however i hope you enjoy!

ao3

“What do you mean?”

If anyone bothered to clarify or repeat themselves, Michael didn’t hear them. Two months ago, he’d ended everything with Maria so he could focus on bringing Max back. A month ago, they did just that. Three weeks ago, he marched straight to Alex’s cabin and said he was ready to work through all the pain. Two weeks ago, he’d gone in for a kiss and Alex said it was too soon.

So he gave him some space.

And now he wasn’t there.

“Michael, are you alright?” Isobel asked as she sat on the floor beside him, draping an arm around his shoulder. He wanted to scoff, to find something snide to throw at her. “Am I alright?” he’d say, “the love of my life is missing and that’s all you can ask?”

Instead, he couldn’t find any words. All he felt was heartache and worry and panic. Alex needed him and he wasn’t there. Alex was strong, a force to be reckoned with, and yet something had happened to him. It could be literally anything. He could be being tortured for information or he could be dead or he could be tied up in a basement. Or he could be dead.

Please don’t be dead.

“Last time I talked to him was a week ago. Anyone hear from him more recently?” Kyle asked, keeping a cool head even though he was the one telling everyone that Alex Manes was MIA. No one said anything. “Okay. So sometime between then and this morning, someone took him.”

“Well, how do you know someone took him? Maybe he just left on his own,” Liz said. Michael wanted to thank her for being positive, but he was angrier that she was holding up the conversation over bullshit that didn’t happen.

“His car was gone, but there…” Michael could feel them looking at him, trying to figure out if he could take what Kyle was about to say. “There looked like a struggle inside the cabin. Shit was everywhere, it didn’t look like any of his clothes were gone. Front door was open. There was… blood on the floor and the counters.” Michael brought his knees closer to his chest and he tried to block out the horror of what had just been said. Someone made Alex bleed.

Or maybe Alex made someone else bleed.

Maria seemed to speak his mind, “I know Alex, he wouldn’t let anyone take him without a fight.”

“Yeah, but they still got him,” Max pointed out as if anyone needed that fucking confirmation. Michael balled himself up even more. This was clearly a dream. A horrifically bad one. One that he could wake up from if he tried a little harder and then Alex would be there when he did and they could kiss and kiss and kiss until he forgot all about this.

Michael squeezed his eyes shut, rocking slightly in place as he desperately tried to wish it away. He just needed to wake up. Wake up and be with Alex. Alex wasn’t gone, no one could’ve taken him, no one…

“Michael! Michael, listen to me, you need to calm down,” Isobel’s voice reached out to him, her hands cupping his cheeks. This was real. It wasn’t a dream. The noise that pushed out of his body once he realized that was the most pathetic sound he’d ever made. It showed on Isobel’s face. “Oh, Michael, we’ll get him back, I promise.” She pulled his head tightly to her chest, combing her hands through his hair.

The room was silent. It made Michael feel even worse. Why weren’t they talking about Alex? Why were they focusing on him instead of focusing on how to get Alex back?

“Why are you all just fucking standing here?!” Michael yelled, not moving from his place in Isobel’s arms. He had faith that his tone and the slight shake of the furniture in the room made them realize how serious he was. “We know who took him! It was his fucking dad!”

“Mikey,” Liz started this time. Great. “Alex’s dad just got out of the hospital. I don’t think he capable of kidnapping. Even if Alex is dis‒”

“Oh, don’t you even act like Alex missing his leg makes him weak at all! He could fucking kill all of you if he wanted to! And honestly, he should because you aren’t fucking helping!” Michael barked. More than one object shot across the room and he’d tried to lift his head, but Isobel had a death grip on him.

“Michael, you aren’t helping by freaking out. Take a deep breath, and use your words‒calm ones.” Isobel dictated, sounding like she had so many times in their life. Michael closed his eyes once again, breathing slowly. At first, it was a last-ditch attempt at waking up from this fucking nightmare, but once he realized that wasn’t it, he decided to listen.

He could be calm. Calm meant Alex. Alex needed him. He’d let him down before, he wasn’t about to do it again.

“His dad probably got his brothers in on it. Or, or at least Flint. Guy has some twisted view that whatever he does for his dad is to protect Alex,” Michael explained, sniffling hard as he rubbed at his eye, “It wouldn’t surprise me if he tried to get Alex to go see his dad to talk about Project Shepard and Alex wouldn’t listen, so he tried to force him and then Alex probably used more force than anticipated and then…” He couldn’t say it. It hung in the air regardless. Everyone knew the only way Alex got pulled out of that cabin was either by unspeakable violence.

“Okay, but maybe that’s not it? I mean, Alex did put himself in the middle of a government conspiracy for us, it could be any number of people. Could even be an alien,” Max said and Michael was starting to regret bringing him back.

“Yeah, maybe, but it definitely couldn’t hurt to look into his dad. Dude’s psychotic,” Kyle explained, mindlessly rubbing over where he’d been shot. Michael took a few deep breaths, doing his best to steady his mind before he stood up. Again, all eyes were on him. He was getting quite tired of that. What was so hard about focusing on Alex? It literally was the easiest thing in the world.

“I’m gonna go find him. If you wanna sit here blowing yourselves, fine, I’m gonna go get Alex,” Michael said. However, he could barely take a step before multiple pairs of arms yanked him onto the couch. It was a chorus harmonizing ‘you’re crazy’ with ‘have you lost it?!’ and he was so over the false niceties. “Let me go get Alex!”

“We can’t go in blind!” Kyle scolded, shaking his head. He was awfully close to Michael, having been the first one to stop him, and Michael was beginning to wonder why he cared. “We need to think this through, okay? If we just go in, alien minds blazing, then we could just get everyone killed. We need to be smart about this. We don’t even know if he has him, much less where or what he’s done to him. We’ll get him back, Guerin.”

Michael swallowed back the tears that ached in his throat, “I need him.”

“I know, Michael, I know,” Isobel cooed, cradling him against her chest once again. Kyle gave a tight smile and put his hand on his knee.

“I’m gonna find him. If it’s the last thing I do, I’m gonna find him,” Michael grumbled, his knees coming back to his chest. His ears filled with demeaning sentiments that they knew. But they didn’t know, couldn’t know. He and Alex had stayed virtually silent on their relationship. Everyone knew they had some feelings, but mainly it was assumed to be a brief fling in high school. Max knew that being caught with him had gotten his hand fucked, but that’s about it. Liz and Maria knew he was Museum Guy, but that’s about it. Isobel knew that Alex knew everything about him, but that’s about it. Oddly enough, Kyle was the closest to knowing, and still, all he knew was that they still loved each other after a decade of bullshit and that’s about it.

No one understood how they’d spent so many years trying to navigate each other and themselves. No one got that he’d thought about Alex every day for a decade. No one knew about Caulfield. They definitely didn’t know that the sex was so good it felt more natural than breathing. Not just the sex. Touching him, kissing him, holding him. If they’d just had a few more weeks to work at it, talking would’ve come just as easy. Alex was his, he was Alex’s. They were all just too stupid to see it. Too stupid to understand that he was missing a piece of himself when Alex wasn’t there.

“Maybe you should get some‒”

“I swear to god, if you say sleep, I’m going to throw you through a window,” Michael said, narrowing his eyes at Kyle who was still knelt in front of him, “Alex could’ve gotten taken a week and a half ago. I’m not wasting time. We start planning now.” Kyle stared for a moment, clearly debating what to say. Michael never stopped glaring at him as he checked around the room to make sure everyone was on board. Kyle stood up.

“Okay. Let’s get to work.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Michael?”

“It’s the only one I’ve got.”

Twenty-four hours after realizing Alex was missing, they were headed to the Project Shepard bunker. To Michael, it felt like twenty-five hours too late. They weren’t stupid and Jesse Manes wasn’t either. If he’d taken Alex, he would’ve taken him somewhere that they’d be able to find him. Squeezing information out of Alex was a hard task, but even if they’d managed to get every piece he knew, it still wasn’t was he wanted. Jesse Manes wanted Michael, Max, and Isobel either dead or in captivity. What’s better bait than Alex?

It killed Michael that it took them that long to notice Alex was gone. He’d called him a handful of times since then and he’d thought endlessly about going over, but he thought he was being ignored for making him uncomfortable and the last thing he wanted was to push him away by being overbearing. Turns out him not taking action for once may have gotten Alex killed.

The idea alone had Michael ready to kill.

“So, walk me through this one more time?” Max groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. Michael stepped on the gas a little harder.

“I bust the door in. Let’s say there’s four guys other than Jesse, I’ll throw them all against the wall. Max, you take the biggest one. Iz and Liz, you two go after another one and Liz holds him while Iz gets in his mind and politely suggests he stops. Kyle, you go after the other one. Maria, if there’s another one, be careful, but point that gun at him. I got Jesse and Alex,” Michael said.

It’s what he’d been saying since the moment they decided they needed a plan. They kept trying to tell him that he needed something more than that, but the fact of the matter was they didn’t know what they were going into and there wasn’t a way to find out. So they all put on bulletproof vests and Max and Maria had guns on them. Michael was a weapon in his own right, Isobel was strong enough to get into someone’s mind quickly, and Kyle had spent some time training with Alex enough to have a basic understanding of self-defense. It was all they had to go on.

“God, this is such a bad idea,” Kyle scolded. Michael huffed, slamming his hand against the steering wheel as he turned onto the dirt road that led to the bunker.

“You didn’t have a better one!” Michael yelled. No one argued.

It was hauntingly silent in the car, the weight of what they were doing really setting in. Alex’s life was in their hands. Their plan was already half-baked at best, there was so much room for fuck ups. All Michael knew was that he’d die saving Alex and it was the main drive of confidence.

Even when he pulled up to the bunker.

Everything moved in slow motion as they entered the way Micahel had suggested, the door flew open with ease. It felt stupid, riddled with plausible ways for them all to end up dead or hurt or fucked up in some way. He was stupid. That stupidity felt amplified when there was no one in sight. Maybe Alex really did just leave…

“I don’t think anyone’s here. Maybe we were wrong,” Max said as if he had any part in guessing where Jesse Manes might’ve taken him. Michael rolled his eyes, walking further into the bunker. Maybe he wasn’t there, maybe Alex just left because he scared him away, but Michael had stressed himself out too much to leave without looking. He was going to search this place top to bottom.

“Michael,” Isobel tried as he began looking beneath the table and the desk. He didn’t listen, closing his eyes to see if he could feel Alex. He’d gotten really good at that‒well, especially with Alex.

“Guerin, seriously, I think‒”

“Shut up,” Michael snapped, taking a deep breath as he tried to find Alex and call out to him. Maybe he should’ve done that first. Then again, he wasn’t exactly known for his logical decision making.

And he called Alex, searching for him wherever he may be. His palms began to burn as he felt something. It was murky, it was faint, but it felt like Alex and it was close and that’s all he needed.

“Alex?!” Michael yelled, causing nearly everyone around him to jump and glare him. But if Alex was close enough, he’d probably hear him scream better than he heard him in his head and he wasn’t about to blow that. Still, paranoia began to feed into his already ridiculously high worry when whatever he had been feeling was yanked away, leaving that part of him cold and empty all over again. That can’t be good.

Voices called after Michael as he darted down the hall. He looked everywhere he could, his mind throwing open each door he passed them. No Alex. Michael barely had time to try to call out for him again when he reached the final two doors and spotted a trail of blood leading to one of them.

Found it.

Michael blew the door off its hinges and into pieces, already huffing and puffing and ready to destroy some Manes Men before he could even get a good look at what was inside. He didn’t really know what he was expecting, but what he saw really wasn’t it.

The room was indeed covered in blood, but it didn’t seem to be Alex’s. Rather, it belonged to a few other Manes Men. In the middle of the floor, there was a pile of Jesse Manes and two of his sons, neither of which was Alex, but all of which were unconscious. They were tied up in complex knots that coursed around their bodies and over their mouths and around their hands and feet, creating one giant human lump of flesh that was partially covered in dried blood.

“Really, Guerin?” Alex was leaned up against the far wall and, aside from the split lip, messy hair, and missing prosthetic, he looked fine. Well, he looked annoyed. The entire scene had Michael’s head reeling in confusion, trying to piece together the scene and how the hell it had ended up like that. Had Alex done all that and ended up with nothing but a split lip?

“I… came to save you?” Michael said though he knew it wasn’t convincing. His eyes raked over the scene a couple more times as the Knock-Off Justice League bounded up behind him to do the same.

“Uh-huh, I bet, my hero,” Sarcasm dripped from Alex’s voice. That quickly reminded him that Alex was here and speaking. Alex was alive.

Michael crossed the room in record time, scooping him up in his arms. Alex wiggled his hands-free, bringing them around Michael’s shoulder and petting his head as if on instinct. He didn’t even realize he was crying until Alex started shushing him.

“Jesus Christ, Alex, what the hell happened?” Kyle asked from behind them. Michael squeezed Alex a little tighter, a silent plead to never leave him alone with Kyle again. He could be nice and all, but Michael was pretty sure Alex needed more hugs. From everyone. Why was Michael the only one hugging?

Why was Michael the one being comforted?

“Idiots came to my cabin a few days ago, tried to get information out of me, somehow forgot I was specially trained to be on special task forces. One of them sedated me, so I guess they’re not all idiots,” Alex chuckled. He fucking chuckled. Michael sniffled against his neck, feeling Alex’s cheek mindlessly rub against his temple. Alex. “I was out for a day or two, I guess, when I woke up they had me tied up in here. Something about me being a good way to get the aliens or some shit. Assholes took my leg, I have no idea where they put it.”

“Alex, are you okay?” Maria asked. Finally, someone asked. Alex hummed, his fingers weaving into Michael’s hair. He squeezed him tight, Alex’s breath hitching a little bit. Michael loosened his grip. Sort of. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you.

“I’m right here,” Alex whispered to him before answering anyone else. Michael wondered if he could hear him, feel him. “I’m fine, yeah. You guys came at a good time, so, uh, thanks. Been waiting here for like an hour trying to figure out how to get out of here without crawling.”

“And you… did… that?” Max asked.

Alex snorted, “Didn’t really have a choice. So, like, I know you came to save the day, so could you guys go find where they put my leg?”

A few lackluster mumbles later, they found themselves alone. Michael was fully aware they’d hyped up this mission only for Alex to mostly have saved himself, but he didn’t even care. Alex was okay and that was the biggest relief in the fucking world.

“Guerin, are you okay?” Alex asked softly, craning his neck in an attempt to see his face. Michael was too terrified to let go. Last time he let go, Alex got kidnapped. Alex was strong and smart and could survive a fucked up situation, but Michael didn’t even want him to have to. There was no fucking way he was letting go again. Especially when he was missing a prosthetic and Michael was basically functioning as a crutch.

“Shut up, are you sure they didn’t hurt you? I was so fucking worried. I haven’t been able to breathe for, like, a million hours,” Michael sniffled, letting out a heavy groan as he tried to stop crying. Alex just smiled at him and that felt like an incentive to stop the fucking waterworks.

“Mmm, how long did it take you to notice I was gone?”

“I didn’t. I thought you were mad at me and ignoring me for trying to kiss you, so I was giving you space. Well, I blew up your phone, but I didn’t want to go to your house, that was all Valenti,” Michael admitted, that shitty feeling in his stomach stirring up again. What kind of boyfriend was he going to be if he didn’t even notice that he was gone?

“Thank you for respecting my space,” Alex said as if he wasn’t annoyed with him. He had to be annoyed with him.

“Thank you for being a fucking badass and keeping yourself safe,” Micahel gushed, squeezing him again. Alex laughed softly, pressing a sweet kiss to his temple. A pathetic whimper fell from Micahel’s throat, his eyes closing as he tried to savor that stupid little touch. He didn’t expect any more. “I’m so sorry.”

“Shut up, Guerin, I’m okay. You’re okay. We’re okay,” Alex promised, massaging his scalp as he finally squeezed him back. Michael wanted to collapse.

“I was so scared I would never see you again, that the last time I’d see you would be me being stupid,” Michael admitted. Alex hummed softly and Michael didn’t even get a response before Max came in holding the prosthetic like a trophy.

Michael found it hard to keep away from Alex. Even as he coldly said to leave the men on the floor and as he put on his prosthetic and as he walked towards his truck as if nothing had happened. He didn’t want him to leave his sight.

“Michael, honey, let Alex go home. He’s had a rough few days,” Isobel cooed all over again. He wanted to fight and argue that they had literally all went to rescue him and they were acting like it wasn’t a big deal, but he quickly had to face the reality that it wasn’t. Everyone was completely fine, no one had to do anything big or bad or dangerous.

Except for Alex. And they thought it was okay for him to be alone after that.

“Alex, seriously? You want to be alone?” Michael asked, pulling at Isobel’s hand as she held onto him. He felt like a child. Maybe he was, he did come up with the world’s worst plan and did no day-saving. He failed Alex. That was shone all over Alex’s face as he stared at him over the hood of his car.

But Alex sighed, “C’mon, Guerin, you can drive. I’m still a little hazy anyway.”

He didn’t have to be told twice.

Michael climbed into the driver’s seat of the car and completely ignored everyone else that wasn’t Alex Manes. He managed to clear his eyes and his head enough before he started up the car, heading to the cabin like it was second nature.

“Are you sure you wanna go back there?” Michael asked, “I mean, do you feel safe at a place they took you?”

“I’ll be fine. Just clean up the blood and give it a few weeks, it’ll go back to normal,” Alex assured. When Michael looked over, his eyes were closed.

“You sure?”

“Guerin, I know for a fact that I’ll be safe if you’re there with me, so stop questioning me and just stay with me for a while,” Alex told him. He was tired and sounded a little annoyed and he probably didn’t mean it, but to Michael, it meant the world. He made him feel safe. Even though he was excruciatingly bad at rescue missions, even though he let him get taken in the first place, he made him feel safe. He didn’t know what that meant for them or how long it would last, but he was going to cherish it.

Maybe he really was his hero.

#malex #malex fic #michael guerin #michael guerin fic #Alex manes #alex manes fic #isobel evans #max evans #liz ortecho #maria deluca #kyle valenti #request #4k word #alex is a badass #roswell new mexico #roswell new mexico fic #rnm #rnm fic

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