This is probably the most serious thing I've ever written, and I wrote it at 11 last night... damn bunnies -_- I know Liara is a little OOC, but it seemed a necessary evil... I hope its not total rubbish...
Gone.
Just like that.
It was all over.
Why?
Why?!
Why couldn't she save her?
Why didn't she choose her?
She knew, knew everything, and yet she still asked to be left behind.
And I left her.
WHY?!
She needed to move, do something, anything.
Pacing restlessly, eyes darting across the sparse furnishings of her cabin, the bed at the back, the desk, the table, the chairs, over and over again.
An unexplained agitation, an itch she couldn't reach, a burning frustration.
Move.
Growling she griped the edge of the bed, hurling it as far as she could in the confines of the room, the resonating thump as it connected with the opposite wall oddly satisfying.
Again.
Clearing her desk recklessly, the clatter of datapads harsh on the steel flooring, the smash as her heel connected with one, levering the desk with all her strength, it too connected with a wall.
More.
Chairs clattered one after another, striking the wall in a strange rhythm, increasingly addictive.
Again.
Again.
AGAIN!
Over and over.
Breaking anything she could, tearing anything that would.
Over and over.
Over and over.
Why?
.
.
.
The repeated thuds coming from the Commander's cabin resounded throughout the mess hall, the servicemen there flinching under the constant barrage.
Kaidan stood stock still at his station, breathing in the destruction, tasting the pain on his tongue, the dull throbbing in the back off his skull matching its beat to the noise behind him. He felt another migraine coming on, yet clenched his teeth tighter, exacerbating the ache behind his eyes; needing the pain, a reminder, a single thought permeating his consciousness.
Why?
Why?
Why me?
It should have been her…
.
.
.
Gripping her head in her hands she tried to block it out. Block it all out.
Why?
She loved her, so why? Why would she leave her?
Behind her Dr Chakwas moved restlessly, the screams that had started moments after the thrashing of furniture not dimmed by the distance between the two rooms. Eyes pressed tighter together, the pale light from the terminal in front of her bathing her eyelids. Hands clenched tighter, trying to block it out.
It hurt.
It hurt that she would do this over her.
Why?
Why?
Why couldn't she love me instead?
.
.
.
The silence that followed was far more haunting, more foreboding than the cacophony of sheer torment that had been circulating the crew deck only moments before.
Kaidan remained where he stood, unable to move, to dare intrude on the grieving of the Commander.
His Commander.
But for how much longer?
The migraine had set in, every sound echoing through his mind like a gunshot next to his ear; the lights flickering both before him and in his peripheral vision stirring up feelings of nausea, vision blurring under the intensity of the light, head spinning, yet there he stood, basking in her suffering, needing to feel something, his unspoken apology for not protesting enough, for not refusing to let her come for him.
I'm so sorry.
But no one would hear him.
They never would.
Die proud, Chief.
The last words between them.
And it wasn't enough.
It never would be.
He saw the blur of blue hesitate, heard the clack of careful footsteps pass him, yet he did nothing. He stood at his post, enduring his suffering, his apology, his guilt, and let another step in to replace what could not be replaced.
Ever.
.
.
.
The hiss of the doors revealed a darkened interior, the lights dimmed after being pierced by stray biotics, subtle dents lining the walls.
Glass crunched beneath some steps, strips of fabric muffled others, furniture lying in a haphazard maze and in its centre a hunched figure sat.
"Shepard…"
What could she say?
What was there to say?
The figure didn't move, a melancholic air wrapped around her as surely as the remains of her room. Liara could make out the stains on her hands, the occasional bloody handprint decorating the wall attesting to it origin.
She wanted her.
She wanted her.
Bad.
So defenceless, so defeated, so damned desirable.
Now wasn't the time.
But it also was.
Her only competition gone, a broken heart in desperate need of comfort.
The time was ripe.
Settling on her knees among the destruction beside the only thing that mattered to her more than her life, she wrapped the Commander in a tentative embrace, drawing her in, cradling her unresponsive body.
Gently, hands slid down the curved spine, usually so straight and proud, trailing their way back up to sink into soft red locks, stroking that hidden neck through their depths. Grazing lips over sharp cheeks, avoiding those dead, dead eyes.
"Shepard…" the soft whisper tickled the shell of her ear somehow penetrating the haze that surrounded the Commander.
"Liara… I…" Shepard began, turning her head ever so slightly to look at the young asari in whose arms she found herself.
She was silenced with the brushing of lips against her own, a sad smile distorting the normally serene expression the Prothean expert usually held.
"I know."
Firmer this time, as if to make her intentions clearer, she repeated the motion, a little surprised when Shepard melded into the action.
Strong pale fingers gripped at her hips through her coat, drawing her closer.
"…Ashley…"
The soft admission was made through closed eyes; that was who she wanted, not her, but that was okay, she knew she never stood a chance.
Knowing this she persisted; sliding cool fingers through vibrant tresses, seating herself firmly in the Commander's lap, her willing victim. Those haunting eyes stared right through her, an animalistic hunger lurking in their depths; but they didn't see her.
The Commander's hands were rough and searching, her mouth hot and insistent.
She couldn't bring herself to care that the one Shepard really wanted was dead, that the person Shepard was with now, in her mind, was not Liara.
She didn't care.
"Embrace Eternity."
.
.
.
Through blurred vision and ringing ears, Kaidan watched the asari doctor exit the Commander's cabin, clothes slightly crumpled, cheeks flushed, the sombreness of her expression at odds considering what she had just done.
"She's in mourning." He whispered, a certain hardness settling over him as he saw the subtle stiffening of her back.
"I know."
The hushed reply hanging in the air, side by side with the reproachful glare the Sentinal levelled at her.
"Why?"
Turning to face him fully, an uncharacteristic coldness distorting usually soft features, she held his gaze, daring him to judge her and her selfishness.
"Because I could. "
He nodded, acknowledging the guilt, the reasoning, knowing that this one act of selfishness was also an act of cruelty, to know with the utmost certainty that she will never have a place in her heart, ever.
"Because she loved her."
The gaze held for a moment longer, each witnessing the other's grief, their guilt, their sorrow.
Things would never be the same aboard the Normandy, they would never be the same, but they understood. Understood what had happened. Understood why.
And they accepted it.
Liara returned to the med-bay.
Kaidan stayed by his station.
And silence reigned.