She twitches beside me in her sleep.
EDI told me of her bad dreams and I fully understand the reason since I've had similar before following the loss of SR1. Even now when I sleep I can still feel the heat that rippled through the hull, or the explosions that blew the Normandy to hell. And that was just the start of it, the devastating news of her death followed, the story of how she'd bundled the last of the crew into the escape pod but never made it herself. I shouted at Joker until I was hoarse and my vision blurred with tears – how could she be gone? After all that she'd done, and all the things we'd said... to be stolen away like that hurt in a way I'd never felt before. I felt suddenly incomplete like a limb had been torn from my body, my world began to crumple around me as I succumbed to the tears. They scolded as the slivered downwards but felt insignificant compared to the ache in my heart with her absence.
I couldn't bear to attend the service, she deserved something more than a farewell with military honours, something personal, something suitable for the woman she was, or at least the woman I had been privileged to see. I couldn't eat nor sleep without seeing her smiling face or hearing her laugh echo around the head, I threw myself into whatever I could reconnecting with the military offered some respite, the counselling too helped me clear the air and come to terms with it all. But it was hell to go through, something I wouldn't want to repeat.
Then, just when road to recovery began to iron out I started hearing rumours of something stirring that didn't include Reapers or Collectors. It was her. Two years, two long, painful years were on the brink of being undone a pure rumour, one that I had to investigate before I imploded.
I had to rub my eyes when I saw her on Horizon (?) dressed in Cerberus colours to be sure I wasn't dreaming it all, I even stubbed my toe to be sure. I couldn't believe it, she was standing right in front of me looking just as I remembered, even the smile that graced her lips was the same. How was that possible?
Her explanation did little to enlighten me nor did her assurances she wasn't with Cerberus' save for their funding her mission to stop the Collectors. I couldn't swallow it, hell I couldn't think straight anymore. I was elated, angry, and confused in the same instance, so I did the only thing I could, I walked away.
Later I tried to write to summarize my thoughts and feeling, I never was any good at that sort of crap but it needed to be said and I think she understood or at least that was my hope.
From the sidelines I followed her progress Liara feed me her whereabouts in exchange for mine I came to believe, I thought the Assari was trying to play cupid for us, trying to bridge the distance that had grown, she'd always been thoughtful like that though not very discreet.
I read how she'd overcome the Collector ship, how she gave Cerberus the finger and turned herself over to the Alliance for judgment. Any other would have fled, I suppose being born and breed Alliance family it was ingrained on her to return to the nest.
Frustratingly her experiences and my own had little effect upon the Council and the Brass, they were arrogant in their belief we were safe from attack for some lengthy period of time and that the measure we had in place would be sufficient. Not a chance.
She flinched again in her sleep, with a soothing whisper I drew her close and wrapped my arms protectively around her. She'd accomplished the impossible, she'd ended feuds and grudges hundreds of years old to unite against the galactic threat. She was the face of the resistance with a heart of dragoon. Yet, here she lay whimpering softly, exposed and venerable. I suppose even heroes have their weaknesses.
She jerked awake gasping for air before gripping my arm forcefully.
"Another dream," I ask.
She nods, "Do you think we've everything we could?"
"And more," I assured her kissing her hair softly. "We'll get through this, I promise."