Me and My Dead.
Summary: Shepard goes to the Normandy crash site. (slight femShepard/Garrus) Drabble
Space, Shepard thinks, is just so godamned big, she could travel to a new planet every minute for the rest of her life and would never land in the same place twice.
But in the end, the places that really matter are not so far apart.
She has hours until the Omega Relay, and then she will either save the universe or die. Or both. But what's worse than chaos and guns, is waiting in her cabin for the chaos and guns, and those hours may as well be years. So she decides to come back here, of all the damned places.
Back to where the first Normandy crashed and burned. She figures that she owes it to all the buried to come back and pay respects. And she owes it to herself too.
Garrus comes along, that's the kind of turian he is. Needs to see it, to experience it with his own eyes. Tali refuses, she shakes as she refuses. She's seen it before, because she's a good quarian and she needs to scavenge the ship for parts. The crew even gave her their blessing. Better Tali than anyone else, they said.
But Tali says she couldn't. One look at the wreckage and her stomach churned, she threw up on the spot.
"Right in my enviro-suit," Tali says, not quite laughing, "It was disgusting; I kept cleaning it for weeks."
Shepard's tells Joker and to remain in radio silence until it's time. Then she goes to walk on Normandy's grave, low gravity makes her footsteps light. She never gets use to graveyards, but Mindoir and Akuze practically made her an expert on them. And this place was definitely one. Cold and absolutely still, like a moment in history frozen in front of her.
See this, this is where I got my coffee. Black as dead space. This is where Ashley wrote her own poetry when she thought no one was looking. And this is where Engineer Adams died, his faithful machines that he loved more than his right hand itself exploded right in his face, taking half of it with them.
Shepard remembers the destruction of the Normandy, that half a second between struggling in terror- and the absolute agony of being spaced, where she just watches Normandy crumble. The finest, most dependable hunk of overpriced metal- the invincible pride of the Alliance, just shudder and fall apart.
Space is too empty to carry sound, so in that half a second she's left in awe of just how silent violence can be.
It's just as quiet now, and she's caught listening to the sound of her own breaths. The corner of her eye spots Garrus scooping up something on the ground. He stares at it for the moment, like he's found the holy grail or something, and then he shows it to Shepard.
Dog tags. Two fucking years and the Alliance didn't even have the decency to look for the poor bastards' dog tags. This is what she got for the people she dedicated her life to? She died for? A cover up and a dozen grieving families without the respect they deserve.
Well shit.
Shepard hears her breathing faster now, blood pumping to her head. She and Garrus begin to scavenge the whole Normandy, looking for any other dog tags she can find.
Peters. Loved cats, his girlfriend was allergic to them. This caused more grief than any of the geth attacks.
Nancy Drew. Not her real name, of course, she picked it up from some old crap novels she use to collect. She blew all her salary on books written too long ago for anyone else to care.
Michael. He was a damn idiot and asshole. Never did his job properly and spent most of the time in the bathroom with an issue of Fornax. Shepard was going to fire him as soon as they went planet side, and send him home with a kick up the ass. Should have done it sooner.
Garrus and Shepard search all the way to the cockpit. This is where it ended.
She looks at Garrus and sees he has his own handful of dead men.
"Thanks Garrus," she tells him, "I always thought it'd be Alenko with me doing this. But right now, I'm glad it's you."
But there's radio silence and she knows he can't hear her. But either way, he reaches out his talon and takes her hand. She knows turians don't hand hold, it's a human thing. And maybe to a lesser extent, asari.
It makes her appreciate it all the more, and she reciprocates with a turian forehead touch.
Thanks for being here.
He squeezes his talons gently.
Always Shepard.
Dead men, grim future, and the one turian that walks with her through it all.
"Shepard, the Omega Four Relay is ready, time to come back on board," radio intervention from Joker.
The wait is always too long until it's actually gone. Shepard sighs, and turian in hand, walks back to the new Normandy.
Space is really godamned big. She hopes she never has to land here again.
A/N:
I just really needed to write a Mass Effect story. I've been meaning to for months but I finally got around to it.
Originally this was going to be a series of drabbles, but I realized I'm far too lazy to commit myself to a regular release date.