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Broken Glass
It's like looking in a mirror...one into the past.
In a way, all mirrors are. What we see is what we were like in the past, however close to the present it is, no matter how quickly light travels. Granted, the mirror I see goes back even further...three years in fact...but it's a mirror just the same.
I've changed...I know that. Shepard's changed, I know that as well. Changed so much that I'm willing to play my role as the Shadow Broker...changed so much that he was willing to work with Cerberus. To get to know Cerberus. One person in particular. One who's somehow found her way onto the Normandy SR-3.
"What are the chances, eh commander? Back on the same ship again."
Funny. I'm wondering the same thing.
I pass by the mess, so similar to the first Normandy ship...near where I resided, near where I regularly recieved medication from Chakwas. Back when I was weak. I tell myself that I became strong out of necessity, that it's all worked out, but even so, I miss the old days. Smaller crew, smaller ship, smaller universe...small enough for just the two of us. So small that not even a triangle could fit in...
...but I'll break it through inaction. With all that's happening, I...he...we...need that much. Remove the three dimensions to two points, and let the line flourish between them. Geometry at its finest.
I glance back at them one last time. By the Goddess, they're holding hands now. Well, enough of this. Turn away, just turn away...turn away from the mirror...from the past...from the light of what I was once naive enough to call love.
I do so.
The glass is broken.