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tieflingsarebadatnamingthings · 1 year

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Wrote a Mass Effect Andromada short fic.

None of the doors on the Tempest could be slammed shut. Sara hadn’t encountered a manual door since being on Earth, which made sense because why would they waste wood on a door that couldn’t keep out the kett? But she missed the feeling of grabbing the edge of a door and swinging it shut with all her might. Maybe it would have made her feel a little better as she stormed into her room.

Tann was being an ass, asking her for more than she could do. Addison had made a quip about her needing to keep earning her title. Eos was apparently experiencing earthquakes which meant they had to take a break from the ongoing negotiations with the angarans and their efforts on Voeld even though they were so close to rescuing Moshae Sjefa. Sara’s heartrate was uneven, according to Sam, and he wouldn’t leave her alone about it. Jaal was angry. Liam was being moody and wouldn’t talk to her. Scott still hadn’t woken up. Peebee refused to sleep in a proper bed, remaining in the escape pod. Gil and Kallo were fighting, again. Vetra was hiding something. Lexi was worrying over the burn on Sara’s side even though it was fine. And apparently something on the ship was eating their supplies.

There was barely time to breath, let alone sleep or eat. Despite this and the criticisms from the Nexus, Sara thought she was doing alright. Until Cora started talking about the asari ark again. About how they needed a real Pathfinder. Well, maybe that wasn’t how the woman had put it but that was how it sounded every single time she opened her mouth and talked about the asari or Alec.

Sara could feel her throat slowly closing, like a hand around her neck starting to squeeze. She knew that feeling intimately now, after getting a little too up close and personal with some kett. Whenever one got ahold of her, she’d stick them with her omni-blade. She wished she could do that now. Jab forward, attack, make something else gasp for air. Writhe in pain. Feel what she felt for just one fucking minute.

“Pathfinder, I’m detecting higher than normal stress levels.” Sam spoke up, startling Sara enough that it made her gasp and forced air into her lungs.

Right. Sam. The only one who could feel what she felt. Who was actively feeling what she felt. Sara’s eyes stung so she closed them and covered them with her hand, blocking her view of Sam’s node in the corner. As if it did anything to hide from him. “Sam.” Sara’s voice cracked. She sounded rough, scratchy. She cleared her throat, mentally making a note to be careful not to speak near Lexi without taking a drink first. Last thing she needed was the medic thinking she had a cold. “Sam.” There, better. She dropped her hand away to “look” at Sam. “Who did Dad want to be Pathfinder?”

She hadn’t meant to ask that. But there was no hiding from an AI that lived in your head.

Sara expected an immediate response from Sam. She’d asked this question before and he’d answered before. He should have given her the same bullshit immediately. But this time he paused. Hesitated. Like a person unsure of what to say and not wanting to lie. It was evidence that Sam was changing. And Sara couldn’t decide if that made her mad or not.

“Your father certainly seemed to intend to pass the position of Pathfinder to either you or your brother.” Sam finally stated. His voice still held no inflection, that hadn’t changed yet. But Sara was starting to be able to read him. Maybe it was exposure, constantly having to speak to him. Or maybe it was the link. It didn’t matter.

“Sure. But which of us did he think should be Pathfinder?” Sara pressed. Her neck was burning. Pinpricks travelled down her back, sharp little prickles that felt like needles being rapidly jammed into her skin. Her right leg was jumping but she couldn’t move, the rest of her body locked in anticipation of the answer. Sam hesitated again and Sara couldn’t stand it. “Sam!”

“Scott.”

The answer should have felt like a blow. She wanted it to hurt like one, a sharp ache that she could focus on. But she’d known already, hadn’t she? She’d known since the moment she woke up with Sam’s voice in her head. It was never supposed to be her. So instead of a blow she got a spread of heat through her body as she finally accepted the truth. She scoffed. It turned into a laugh.

“Wow.” She breathed out, turning away from the physical representation of Sam on her table. Her legs worked again, letting her slowly walk a few steps away. “So even my own father didn’t think I could do this.” Sara laughed again, looking up at the ceiling of her room as her eyes stung once again. “Great. That’s just great.”

“Your father believed that you had the most experience needed for Pathfinding. But he believed Scott more capable of making hard decisions.” Sam said. And then, probably trying to lessen her pain, he added, “I believe he wanted to spare you some hardship.”

“But he didn’t want to spare Scott?” Sara questioned, spinning on her heel to look at Sam again. He was silent however and she turned away again, started pacing. “No, of course not. Sara’s too emotional but Scott? Scott I never let have emotions so he’s perfect for the job!” Sara laughed again at her poor imitation of her father’s voice. Though she thought she captured his self-righteousness.

Sam had no physical body so there was no body language to tell Sara he was uncomfortable. But she knew. “Sara—.”

“He thought I was weak. That’s what that means. He thought I was weak.” Sara said. Her pacing was getting faster but she couldn’t stop or slow down. There was too much in her now, she felt like she was vibrating. If she didn’t pace she was going to explode. “It wouldn’t have mattered if I’d done everything to be the next Pathfinder, he never would have given it to me if he hadn’t had to.” Her arms swung out grandly, harshly. Gesturing to nothing. “I was never good enough for him. Scott was never good enough for him. You probably weren’t even enough for him, Sam! No one was ever enough for perfect Alec fucking Ryder!”

The box she kicked across the room was filled with tech bits. Mostly broken and damaged items she tinkered with when she couldn’t sleep, then whatever tools she kept with them. A wrench flew out of the box and hit the floor with a clang before sliding towards the couch. She heard things break as they slammed against each other as the box hit the wall. A few loose bolts had also come out of the box and she watched them hit the floor before her attention was drawn up by the door opening.

Drack took a few steps into her room before stopping, only coming in far enough to let the door shut behind him. He didn’t say anything, didn’t move besides breathing, and his face gave away nothing. Sara had only ever seen him that still when they were sneaking up on kett, pausing to not get caught. Now he was doing the same thing to her. Waiting to see what she would do. If she’d attack.

Sara had probably already been shaking. But now she felt the trembling in her hands. “He never fucking believed in me, Drack.” Sara said. Her voice was shaking too. She hated it. Hated herself. Alec had been right, she was too emotional. “He wanted Scott to be Pathfinder, not me.”

Drack’s expression didn’t change but he titled his head slightly.

Sara tried to keep the tears building in her eyes from falling but the second she blinked they started falling with no hope of her stopping them. She was still burning, still vibrating, but she was locked in place again. She couldn’t pace with Drack looking at her, couldn’t gesture and yell and kick at things. Maybe, maybe, one of the others but not Drack. She didn’t want him to think she was erratic. That she was too emotional. “How am I supposed to do this? How am I supposed to deal with all of this when I know if he was here he’d be questioning everything I did? Disapproving of every choice I make?” The sob that escaped her throat caught her by surprise but she didn’t try to stop it. She never had been able to reign herself back in when she got this way. “I mean, he never approved of anything we did. Never. Except when we joined the Initiative. So you’d think I wouldn’t care.” That would make sense. If she just didn’t care. “I shouldn’t care.” Alec was an asshole. Had been for so many years. She shouldn’t care. “Why do I still care?”

Drack probably only just understood what she said as her voice gave out around her last words. Nothing more than a squeak came out of her mouth, though her lips still formed the words. Sara let the next sob come without saying anything else. Then the next. Slowly, she curled in on herself. Wrapped her arms around her waist and looked away from the krogan she desperately wanted approval from. She wouldn’t have it now. Not acting like this.

But when Drack finally spoke, it wasn’t to chastise her. “From what I’ve heard, Alec Ryder was a real piece of work.” He said, calm as can be. As if Sara wasn’t breaking apart in front of him. “Didn’t take him for the nurturing type. Didn’t think he was this bad though.” There was disgust in his voice. For a brief moment, Sara thought it was directed at her. But one glance up told her otherwise, Drack was looking at Sam accusingly. She didn’t understand why but at least he wasn’t disgusted with her. Drack turned his attention back to her and came forward, reaching but not touching. “Come on kid, you need to sit down for a bit.” He said and gestured towards the couch.

It took a second for Sara to process the suggestion but she followed it, walking slowly on shaky legs until she could collapse onto the leather. The couch was barely worn in, she hardly ever got to spend time in her room long enough to lounge on it. The most time she’d spent on it was when she had accidentally passed out on it while trying to fill out a report to Tann. Sara curled into the couch, looking away from Drack so she could focus on forcing her breathing back to normal. On calming the sobs shaking her chest.

Drack didn’t sit down, couldn’t on this couch, but he stayed close to her. “You know, I never met your old man. But I don’t think I would have liked him.” He said when her breathing had evened slightly.

Sara shook her head. “You would have.” She managed to say. Drack was smart, he knew how to pick allies. He would have gotten along with Alec if it meant helping his granddaughter and the other krogans.

“Really?” Drack grunted. “Only good thing I know about him is that he helped start the Initiative.”

The noise Sara made was meant to be a laugh but it just sounded a lot like another sob. “You should talk to Cora. She knows more about him than I do.” Sara reached up and wiped at her cheeks but they were so wet that it did nothing. “She knew how he wanted to die. I didn’t even know his favorite color.”

“Bet that stings.”

She loved Drack. She loved his bluntness, his willingness to push even when he probably shouldn’t. Because it gave her the excuse she needed to finally vent. To say things she’d refused to voice before then. She couldn’t be blamed for what she said, how she felt, if Drack had practically invited her to talk about it. “It hurts.” It felt good to say that. To finally admit that Cora was hurting her, whether intentional or not. Sara uncurled slightly, turning back towards Drack. “Everytime she talks about him. It hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. And I want to throw up. Just hearing her say his name.” Sara shook her head. “It’s like she’s talking about a completely different person. He was my dad. Mine. But she knew him better. Liked him better.”

Sara spotted an unopened bottle on her coffee table and uncurled fully to grab it. She gripped it tightly in both of her hands, almost cradling it to her chest. She didn’t drink much, which was why when she did she always went over the top. But holding something made her feel better. Made it easier to hide her shaking hands.

“And you know, I really hate hearing her say she misses him. That he should be here.” A hint of disgust creeped into her voice and she felt an immediate rush of guilt. It wasn’t Cora’s fault Alec was a bad father. “I hate when anyone says that.” She corrected, staring at the coffee table now. “I know it’d be better if he was here. That things would be easier. But it hurts. It’s like they’re saying they wish I was dead. That he should have let me die so he could be here instead.” Her grip tightened on the bottle. “Maybe he should have.”

Honestly, she hadn’t meant to say that. But it slipped out. And she couldn’t take it back.

There was a lot of silence around her. Some of it heavier than the rest, coming from Drack. She didn’t look at him. Didn’t lift her head or even move her gaze from the table to anything else. Just waited for the disparaging remarks to come.

“No.”

Sara flinched. Drack sounded angry. Now she couldn’t look at him.

“You think your dad could have done half the shit you do?” Drack questioned.

That didn’t make sense. Had Drack misspoke? “He…He was the Pathfinder, Drack.” She swallowed and let her eyes dart to Drack’s legs then away again. She’d been certain Drack knew about most of her duties but maybe he didn’t. Maybe he didn’t understand that Alec had made the job, that he had been perfect for it. “He knew what to do. In-In any situation, he knew what to do.”

“So he would have been able to handle the angara? Would have understood their whole feelings thing?” Drack pressed.

Sara wanted to immediately say yes but she hesitated. Alec thought she was too emotional. What would he have thought of the angarans? How long would he have been able to hold out until he snapped at them for not approaching things logically enough?

“What about the team?” Drack continued. Sara finally looked up at him, took in the scowl on his face. Not an ounce of his anger seemed directed at her but it was there in the set of his shoulders and the roughness of his voice. “You listen to us, kid. And you don’t try to fix things when you can't. You respect these people. Care about what they’re going through. Would your old man? Think your team would do well with him?”

That was easier to answer. No, the team would not have done well under Alec. Not personally. Professionally, they’d be as efficient as the Tempest. But every last one of them would be suffering, forced to keep their worries and opinions to themselves. Alec wouldn’t have cared about why Liam was moody so long as he got the job done. He would have told Jaal to get over his anger because it was a distraction. He’d threaten Gil and Kallo with replacement if they didn’t stop fighting. He’d make Vetra tell him whatever she was hiding, even though it seemed personal, because he didn’t want any secrets on his ship. Suvi would be patronized for her beliefs. And Peebee? Alec probably wouldn’t have ever let her on board.

The idea of her team being treated like that reignited her anger. It wasn’t as strong as before but it burned away some of the tightness in her chest.

Drack wasn’t done. “And Eos? Would Alec do favors for those people? Put necklaces on cliffs?”

No. No he wouldn’t. If it wasn’t important to the mission, he wouldn’t have done it. “He would have—He wouldn’t have done anything that didn’t pertain to the mission. Even research. If it wasn’t pertinent or promising, he’d leave it to someone else.” Sara admitted.

But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t have been better than her at the job. He was Alec Ryder.

Drack nodded but she could tell by the look in his eye he didn’t trust her. That he knew she was still doubting. “See? And if that isn’t enough for you, know I wouldn’t have worked with him.” The krogan declared.

This time, Sara’s laugh sounded a little more like an actual laugh. Startled and disbelieving but a laugh. “Really?” She doubted. She wasn’t sobbing anymore but the tears were still slowly falling. She was running out of them but for now they kept sliding down her cheeks and dripping off her chin onto her hands. One tear hit the bottle’s cap, making it glimmer.

“Like you said, if he was here you’d be dead. And I’m not working with a man who chose his own life over his kid’s.” Drack said. Sara couldn’t even look for a lie. There was nothing about him that allowed her to doubt him. Drack never would have worked with Alec.

Sara tried to imagine the team without Drack but couldn’t. He was integral to how they functioned. He could work with anyone else on the team, fighting alongside them seamlessly. And even if he didn’t, he was so important to making sure the krogans got a voice. Having him on the team meant Tann had a harder time speaking badly about the krogans and excluding them from future plans. Khash got heard much easier with Drack on the Pathfinder team. Drack needed to be on the team and he wouldn’t have worked with Alec.

“I—.” Sara swallowed. She didn’t know what to say. She wanted to say thank you. She wanted to tell Drack she was sorry for unloading on him. She wanted to admit that she’d been afraid of him rejecting her. She wanted to tell him she wished she could have seen him meet Alec, just so she could revel in the disgust the krogan would have felt for the man. All of it made her feel guilty. It manifested in her body as a curling feeling in her stomach. She wanted to tell Drack she felt guilty. Wanted to tell him that Alec hadn’t been bad at all when they were kids, that she and Scott had actually felt loved back then. She wanted to defend her dad and condemn him too. But instead, all she said was, “Okay.”

Drack reached out and, in a gesture that had to be the gentlest he’d ever been, pet her head. “I’m proud to work with you, kid.” He told her.

If she hadn’t already been crying, Sara would have burst into tears. “Thank you.”

She couldn’t say anything else. Thankfully, it seemed like Drack was satisfied enough to let the conversation die. He pulled his hand away, which made her miss the contact but gave her room to breath. Sara let herself relax back into the couch, allowed herself to appreciate how comfortable it was. She focused on breathing, on evening herself out. Drack stayed by her for a few moments, watching her calmly, before turning away. She expected him to leave but he didn’t. Drack started picking up the box she’d kicked. Sara watched him, eyes dropping, wondering why he was doing it but not having the energy to ask him. She could hear him humming. Felt the bottle in her hands slip to the floor and heard it hit with a dull thunk.

Sara fell asleep, forced into unconsciousness by the exhaustion her breakdown had caused. Drack noticed after he’d put the box and its lost trinkets back in their place. “Hey Sam.” He spoke out to the room. He didn’t like to address the thing but sometimes it was necessary. Didn’t mean he had to look at the little hologram of him in the corner. “Give the order that no one’s to bother Ryder for awhile. Kid needs her sleep.” He told the AI.

Drack grabbed a pillow and all of the blankets off of Sara’s bed. He wanted to put her on the bed but was worried she’d wake up and not go back down. So he carefully lowered her to lay down on the couch, putting the pillow beneath her head before it touched the cushions. Then he threw the blankets over her. He didn’t know how tightly he should put the blankets around her, humans were fragile but the room felt warm enough. So he let the blankets hang loose over her. Finally, he gave her another gentle pat, this time on her shoulder, before exiting her room. He needed a workout. Something to get out the anger he wanted to unleash on Alec Ryder but would never get the chance to.

#my writing #fanfiction #mea #mass effect andromeda #mass effect #also on my ao3 #no beta we die like men #no beta #tw: suicidal thoughts #tw: sucidal thoughts

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