Title: The End

Rating: T for language, situation, and heavy angst

THIS STORY HAS SENSITIVE MATERIAL: If you are upset by talk/depictions of death please skip this story.

Disclaimer: I have no rights to any persons real or imagined, no television shows, no books, no video games, no songs, basically nothing. You want to sue me the best thing I have is a bed, but try to take that and I'll cut a bitch, it's super comfy.

Summary: Liara/FemShep pairing, songfic/drabbles to Pearl Jam's The End. From the perspective of a dying Shepard.

Word Count: Total: 1603

Notes: Based on FemShep Spacer, War Hero named Jane (not a character I created, just took the default name and the more Paragon personal history/psychological profile options).

The storyline is vaguely linear after the first five sections. Those are mostly to set the stage.

What were all those dreams we shared, those many years ago?

I never wanted the fairy tale nonsense that my parents use to tell me. I had all the holo-books and VI fairy tales: a knight in shining armor, riding off into the sunset, happily ever after. Why would I want a castle and a kingdom when I had a ship and the galaxy as my playground?

It took finding you to show me that I was wrong. I just wasn't the fairy tale princess. I wanted to rescue the damsel in distress. I wanted to be the Spectre in N-7 armor. I wanted to fly off into FTL. With you.

What were all those plans we made, now left beside the road? Behind us in the road.

I told you I wanted three things with you: Marriage, old age, and a lot of little blue children.

We did the marriage, sort of. A bond ceremony is good enough; when you've joined minds, feelings are much clearer.

I knew I'd never get old age, not really. Humans can't measure up to a thousand year lifespan. You'd grow up as I grew old.

How many defines 'a lot?' Two (it better, that's all we've got)? I love our daughters and I don't care if they're blue. They're our daughters; they don't need my DNA for me to love them.

More than friends I always pledged 'cause friends they come and go.

You were special the moment you boarded the Normandy, the original. I never treated you like the rest of the crew. You were never just a friend, but that's good. I lose friends. I can't lose you.

I'm not even old; barely 60, but I've lost lots of friends. Most of my squad on Elysium. Kaidan. Thane. Chakwas. My mother (my father followed in short order). Anderson. Zaeed.

I'm selfish, I couldn't survive losing you. Is it wrong that I'm a little thankful that you will outlive me?

You're stronger than me. You lost me once. And you will again.

People change as does everything; I wanted to grow old, just want to grow old.

We aren't the same as way back then. You were one hundred and six; older than I am now, but you were so young. I'd seen more of the galaxy than you had in a third of the time. Age aside, I've wanted to protect you since I met you.

We weren't the same two years later. You said 'it's been two years, we're different people.' But we reached across the gap and (against all odds) we touched. But I had to fight the Collectors, you were the new Shadow Broker.

We changed, a lot, but always came back together.

Slide on next to me; I'm just a human being.

You have always reminded me that it was ok to be me. Ok to be a human being. Ok to be a person, not a title. Ok to be Jane.

Not the Alliance Commander. Not the Council Spectre. Not a ghost. Just me.

In those all too human moments of doubt. Of fear. Of pain. Of weakness. You let me have them; you wouldn't let me push them away. But they never consumed me, you always saved me.

You made me a better human being. A better person. The best I could be. And I always do that, for you.

I will take the blame but just the same, this is not me. You see. Believe, I'm better than this.

I hate this, being sick. My body did what I told it to. But now, I'm not sure this is my body.

Muscles straining during Basic. Torn flesh which screaming as bullets ripped through. I kept going.

Even after waking up from the big sleep, I was me. I was Lazarus of the Bible; I rose from the dead. The body was new but still mine.

Where did it go? Where did my body go?

I was strong and sure. But now, in this body which isn't mine, can't be mine, I'm a weak, I'm sick. I don't recognize myself.

Don't leave me so cold or buried beneath the stones.

We need to talk about it; the elephant in the room. Or maybe the Elcor.

"I don't want to die here." A sterile, cloying med-clinic.

I whispered, but I knew you'd hear me. I wanted you to. I'm scared.

Commander Shepard, Hero of the Blitz, Savior of the Citadel. Scared of dying?

I didn't contemplate it the first time. I'd died (it was quick) long before my body entered Atmo.

Slowly deteriorating is worse.

I can't help but cry when you wrap your arms around me. Your shoulders have to be broad this time. I can't be the strong one.

I just want to hold on and know I'm worth your love. Enough, I don't think there's such a thing.

Home on Ilium, I've always liked Ilium.

Away from the doctors, away from the well-wishers, away from the gossip hounds.

You can still work, I want you to. I want you next to me but I know you need a release. You need something that's not me and medicine and clinical machines. You need something to help you move on after…after.

That's why I want the girls to live their lives. Sitting a death watch helps no one. But I never turn any of you away, I can't. I need you as much as I need you to move on.

It's my fault, now I been caught a sickness in my bones.

"How are you feeling Commander?" I hate that phrase. How should I feel? Happy?

It's stupid really. Now that the human Biotics are aging, more side effects are cropping up.

The Eezo that gave me Biotics, that allowed me to save the galaxy, caused this. Cerberus isn't around anymore to ask what else they did to me. And having a Prothean consciousness fighting for space in my head can't be good.

First my bones, my brain, my lungs. What next?

They wanted to do another surgery, a seventh, but I said no. It's prolonging the inevitable.

"Fine, I feel fine."

How it pains to leave you here, with the kids on your own.

Their names are a bit ironic as well: Ambrosia and Amrita. I was being funny when I suggested names referencing immortality and longevity. But you like them, didn't you Liara?

I knew I wouldn't get to see our girls grow up, but this is cruel.

Ambrosia is just about to turn thirty. She acts so grown up but she's still a girl.

And Amrita is seventeen; in human reckoning she's still a child.

You are only one hundred and forty.

I thought I'd have longer. I wanted longer. I want more time with all of you.

I'm so sorry, Liara.

Just don't let me go. Help me see myself, 'cause I can no longer tell.

"Don't let them see me like this." I've turned away Garrus, Tali, Miranda, Jack. Even Joker.

You hold my hand and even that looks wrong; I'm waning and now your hand dwarfs mine. "Why?"

This isn't me, this shouldn't be remembered. "I want to be the me they knew, not this."

But I can't argue anymore, I'm tired. Beyond tired. I had an episode earlier; they're draining but it's better than withering like a plant.

"You are always a hero. To your crew. To me." My skin is papery, contrasting your soft kiss. "Let them say good bye, my love."

Looking out from the inside of the bottom of a well. It's hell. I yell, but no one hears.

They give me medicine, 'for the pain.' I was in pain. But it's more painful being half there.

My family is here. Friends, my daughters, the love of my bitterly short life.

And I am not. But worse, because I know it.

I can hear them, like they are at the end of a long tunnel. I can't speak, can't move, can't let them know I'm here.

I feel tears; I can't dry the blue cheeks. I hear loving whispers; I can't respond.

We're in the same time, the same place, I can almost touch them. Almost isn't good enough.

Before I disappear, whisper in my ear. Give me something to echo in my unknown futures ear.

"I love you. Always have - " I can't even finish what I want to say. I have no store of breath left to tell Liara. I need to tell her. I can't leave that hanging for eternity.

"I know, love." That's not the point. I have to say it. I can't not say it. "And I will love you until I embrace eternity for the last time."

I don't have the breath to cry. I need to say it and crying will waste my numbered breaths. "And I – always will," I huff out, feeling a bittersweet sense of triumph.

My dear, the end, comes near. I'm here, but not much longer.

It's getting dark at the edges of my vision. I can't keep my eyes open anymore.

It takes longer between each breath. Each pause makes my lungs scream a little more.

I should be afraid. But I'm calm. This is acceptance.

I feel someone. Liara. My brain's flagging powers supply her name. It must be Liara.

She kisses me. I'm not in control any longer, I can't reciprocate.

"I love you." I love her too. I wish I could say it. One last time. "Embrace Eternity, Jane."

I can do that much, a last gift from the edge of death.

- FIN -