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jarino · 7 months

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It Will Heal

When Jaal's family is taken by the Roekaar, he asks Bridget to trust him. That's not the problem. Trusting Jaal is as easy as breathing. What isn't so easy is watching as a madman nearly kills the man who has stolen her heart.

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Bridget can’t think. She can’t breathe.

All she can think about is how horribly wrong things have gone.

When Jaal desperately begs for her aid, explaining that Akksul has recruited his siblings into the Roekaar, she agrees to help without hesitation.

When they come across said siblings on the battlefield, and they begin bearing down on her with insults, she tries her best to keep her cool. Even as they tower over her and spout that she’d be better off dead, she doesn’t retort. She doesn’t want to feed into Akksul’s poisonous beliefs about her kind.

Even when Lathoul is shot and tells them of the bombs that have been planted, she doesn’t lose her focus. She remains fixed on her goal.

It isn’t until they reach the Forge proper that things begin to spiral.

Once they disarm the bombs, Teviint runs to Jaal, clinging to him like the scared child she is. “I killed Lathoul! I killed him. I’m so sorry.”

Bridget stares at her in concern. This girl can’t be more than a teenager, and yet Akksul is using her as a weapon, twisting her confusion into a tool for his hatred.

Jaal, however, is less sympathetic. He stares down at her coldly, not offering a hint of comfort. “He’s not dead. You’re lucky”

She looks up at him, her expression so lost and afraid. “I lost my mind, Jaal. I want to go home.”

“But the cause!” Baranjj protests. “I joined because of you!”

“I shot our brother,” Teviint counters, looking at him as though he grew a second head.

He looks down in uncertainty, his hands balling into fists at his sides. He seems just as scared and anxious as his sister. Looking back to her, he says, “Don’t leave me-”

“Let her go.” He is cut off by Akksul appearing from the shadows, stalking forward like a villain. “I only want soldiers who are committed to our cause.” His icy gaze turns to Bridget and Jaal and he sneers, “Not weaklings who stand by and watch the destruction of our people at the hands of aliens.”

More Roekaar filter in from the upper level of the Forge, their weapons all trained on their little group. Akksul stands proudly, assured in his upper hand.

Teviint seems to shrink back, hiding behind Jaal. Baranjj also tries to make himself smaller, pulling into himself. Bridget feels herself bristle in anger. “You recruit kids and make them fight their families,” she spits, glaring at the Roekaar leader. “It’s sick and so are you.”

Akksul seems unbothered by her accusations. Stepping forward, he says assuredly, “I speak for our people and I say you’re done in Heleus.”

He raises a hand to gesture towards Bridget and she instinctively lifts her rifle, aiming at him. Simultaneously, Jaal warns her not to, but Akksul is already grinning.

Chuckling maliciously, he leans into her personal space, the barrel of the gun pressing against his chest. “Martyr me.” He urges. “Please. I dare you.”

Bridget stares him down, hissing out an exhale. Jaal had asked her to trust him on this mission, to follow his lead. And killing Akksul certainly wouldn’t plead a great case for her, especially considering his followers still have their weapons trained on her.

Everything about him infuriates her. But she somehow remains calm.

“I made a promise to my friend that you’re making really hard to keep,” she growls.

His smile falls, and he stares at her in frustration for a long while before turning his attention back to his followers.

“They move onto our planets. They they take our resources, make us weak!”

“I’ve watched Ryder make planets habitable!” Jaal appeals to the angara, his voice impatient but resolute.

“Exactly!” Akksul retorts. “And they’ll never let us forget it.”

“She rescued your beloved Moshae!” Jaal interrupts, and it has the Roekaar leader pausing.

“I know,” he admits quietly, spurring his supporters to look at one another in uncertainty.

“Saved. Her. Life,” Jaal continues, his words punctuated and strong.

“I know, stop defending them!” Akksul says indignantly, beginning to sound like an annoyed child.

Not paying him any mind, Jaal attempts to keep going. “The Moshae trusts Ryder, and-”

“Stop.”

Akksul cuts him off by aiming his gun at Jaal, clearly threatened that he’s losing control of the situation.

Jaal looks at him warily, taking a half step back and raising his hands defensively.

“We’ve been fighting the wrong enemy,” Akksul rambles. “Maybe the enemy is this traitor!”

Lowering his hands, Jaal stares him down resolutely, muttering a quiet warning, “Easy…”

Panicked, Bridget raises her gun to Akksul once more, looking at her angaran companion in distress. “Jaal?”

She hates that her voice sounds so small.

God, what is she supposed to do here? Akksul is clearly crazy. He claims to want to protect the angara, but here he is threatening to kill one of his own. She’s not about to let him take Jaal’s life. And yet, as has already been established, shooting him is off the table, too…

“Don’t!” Jaal warns, sparing her a glance and a careful gesture, his eyes pleading with her. Trust me, they say.

She does. Of course she does. It’s Akksul she doesn’t trust.

Turning his full attention back to the man before him, Jaal’s gaze hardens. “The Moshae trusts Ryder. You’ve become a danger to your own people,” he utters lowly. “Walk away.”

Reason isn’t reaching Akksul, though. Gritting his teeth, he retorts, “Or…I kill you and reveal the Resistance for the traitors they are!”

He pulls the trigger and a sharp, panicked scream tears itself from Bridget’s throat. If everyone’s attention wasn’t focused on Akksul and Jaal, she’s sure she’d be getting looks for the anguished sound she just made. But that isn’t at the forefront of her mind right now.

Jaal’s dead. He’s dead and she did nothing to stop it. She’s trembling uncontrollably, her gun still pointed at Akksul, but she’s frozen in place.

She wants to kill him. Wants to make him pay for killing the man she was easily falling in love with. He deserves it. But as desperate as she feels right now, she made a promise to Jaal…and she’s not about to break it now.

A pained groan draws her attention and her gaze immediately snaps in its direction.

It can’t be…

Akksul missed. He was at point-blank range and he somehow managed to miss. The bullet grazed Jaal’s cheek, leaving a small, shallow cut in its place. Blood trickles down his face as he stares Akksul down unwaveringly.

Bridget wants to cry with relief. To hold him close and reaffirm that he’s okay. But she can’t quite get over the shock of thinking he was lost to her, no matter how brief.

Everyone gapes at the scene in utter awe and disbelief.

Jaal has commanded the attention of the entire Forge, and rightfully so.

Akksul looks up at his followers, a lost, uncertain expression on his face. The Roekaar begin to filter out, shaking their heads in disgust as they do.

Staring Akksul down, Jaal carries a powerful weight to his gaze.

“The alien is not the monster here,” he declares with conviction.

Akksul does not answer right away. His focus is on the angara turning their backs on him. “I love my people…” he utters quietly, looking down in defeat.

Bridget believes it. Unfortunately, his heart has been poisoned and twisted beyond recognition. She wonders what he might have been like had he not been captured by the kett. Despite all the hurt he’s caused, she pities him in that moment.

Jaal does not deign to respond to him, but he seems to come to the same conclusion as Bridget. After a long moment of staring at his former classmate, he turns to his siblings and says, “Come on…let’s get you home.”

Following quietly, Bridgets walks slightly behind him. She glances up at Jaal, noticing the trail of torn flesh that had been carved by the bullet, blue trickling lightly from the edges. She can’t believe how close he came to dying. Any closer to the right and he would have been gone from her life entirely. Hell, it’s a miracle the bullet didn’t hit his cowl either. She’s not terribly familiar with angaran anatomy, but she’s certain there must be vital blood vessels there. The fact that he stands before her relatively unscathed is astronomical.

The blood that had begun pooling at the edge of his wound spills over slightly, running down his cheek. She reaches out, but stops short of touching him. “You okay…?”she asks quietly.

He spares her a glance before saying, “Yeah, thanks…” before letting out a strained grunt, a wince pulling at his lips.

They make there way back in relative silence. On the shuttle, Bridget can’t help but stare at Jaal the whole way, a sense of numbness overcoming her.

A bandage now rests over his injured cheek, but it didn’t make her feel any better.

He almost died. He almost died and she almost let it happen. Granted, she knows that shooting Akksul would have been a terrible idea, but she just can’t stop thinking about it. She cares about Jaal more than she ever thought possible. At this point, it’s more than a silly crush. Even though she knows he doesn’t return her feelings, the thought of losing him…Of never again getting to tease him about idioms or spend time working on projects together…It tears her heart apart.

She can feel Vetra’s eyes on her throughout the ride back, but her companion remains silent, for which she is grateful.

At some point, they land back where they started, Teviint apologizing to Lathoul and the mothers coming to reunite with their lost children. Jaal gently puts his hand on her shoulder and guides her to the side. She follows, her gaze still hollow and empty. She’s barely processed anything since Akksul fired his pistol.

“Thank you for trusting me,” Jaal tells her, looking out over the landscape. “Killing Akksul would have made the Roekaar stronger.”

He’s so calm. Too calm. Infuriatingly calm. He’d almost died for fuck’s sake!

It’s enough to snap Bridget out of her apathy. “He shot you,”she says, bitter.

“I’m glad he did. It exposed how far he’d fallen.”

Even still, he remains composed and collected. He even smiles.

Bridget stares at him in disbelief. “Jaal, you were this close to dying back there! Do you have any idea how risky that was?!”

He has the audacity to chuckle at her and she bristles.

“It all worked out, didn’t it? A little risk was worth it, I’d say.”

She can’t believe it. Here she is, tearing herself apart with worry and he has the gall to think her reaction is amusing.

“You idiot!” she cries, banging her fist against his chest. “You think it’s funny that you almost had your brains blown out?” She hits him again, and he takes small steps back with each advance, staring down at her with wide, surprised eyes.

“Is your life that meaningless to you?” she continues, tears beginning to form. “Or am I just stupid for daring to care that I might lose you?!”

Bridget stops assaulting his chest, though her fists still rest there, trembling. Her gaze has fallen to the ground and she shuts her eyes tightly, the tears now falling freely. Her frame shakes as sobs begin to wrack her body.

He instantly pulls her close to him, cradling her in his embrace.

She does her best to suppress her crying, though it takes her a minute. The desperate kiss he presses against the crown of her head makes it even more difficult to pull herself together, but eventually, she calms down enough to speak.

“I was really worried…” she ends up whispering, her voice somewhat hoarse.

Jaal pulls back just enough to look her in the eyes. His expression is pained, his brows drawn together in worry. Gently, he lifts a hand to wipe her tears, his thumb drawing careful arcs across her cheek.

Carefully, he pulls her forehead to his, and they both close their eyes as they lean into each other. “It will heal,” he murmurs. “All scars do.”

She sniffles slightly, her arms pulling Jaal into as tight of a hug as she can, though his bulky torso makes it impossible for her embrace to completely encircle him.

“I apologize for worrying you…” he says quietly, one hand absently petting her hair.

She doesn’t respond, just pulls him even closer.

They stay like that for a long while, and when they do part, he makes sure to plant another feather light kiss atop her head.

Bridget looks up at him, her expression full of confusion and longing. He softly trails his hand down the side of her face. He stares at her for an achingly long time before clearing his throat and stepping back. She misses his warmth immediately.

“We should get back…” he says, looking back towards the others. “I want to say goodbye before my family heads home.”

Absently, she nods, watching as he heads over.

She tries not to focus on the kisses or the gentle touches. Jaal is a naturally affectionate person. He was just comforting her. It doesn’t mean anything more. Thinking that it might…that’s just setting herself up for more hurt. She doesn’t need to do that to herself.

At least he’s alive. She can cling to that.

Sighing, she gradually makes her way back to the group.

She pushes her longing down. Far enough away where she can try to forget that he’s captured her heart so thoroughly.

——

So I haven't written anything in over 3 years...but I have an actual excuse this time. Long story short, cancer sucks. (Don't worry, I'm not in danger of dying, but having chronic pain the last few years honestly hasn't been much better...)

In any case, I've really missed writing and finally found the inspiration to finish this after starting it years ago. I have a few more projects I hope to work on, though I can't say how many more of them will be Andromeda related.

#jaal romance #rydaal #jaal x ryder #jaal/ryder #mass effect andromeda #mass effect #fanfiction #drabble #angst #hurt/comfort #jaal ama darav #bridget ryder

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