So. I played ME:A and now my soul has been sold to the human Pathfinder and her squid-lion boyfriend. Someone save me.
Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own Mass Effect. I just like to suffer.
…
Sara scanned through the datapad, not really seeing or absorbing the information on it.
Reports from Eos, from Meridian. Most of it small stuff that should really be delegated to someone on the Nexus, not to the Pathfinder.
She felt off. Disconnected. Like the situations and the problems surrounding her were faint blips in the distance and she was just there, watching as the world went by around her.
Her eyes flickered up when the door to her quarters opened and Jaal entered.
"Hello, my darling," he greeted jovially.
It was one of the things Sara loved about him: he always was so happy to see her, no matter the circumstance. The way his face lit up, the way he treated her like she was the most important thing.
She smiled, not really feeling happy or excited to see him in return, just numb. At least she knew this was strange and out of character for her, but she couldn't bring herself to feel anything else.
Back to the datapad, hoping that Jaal didn't notice or that she could get herself together before Jaal asked any questions.
Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Jaal rounded the table and sat next to her on the couch.
She couldn't find the energy to acknowledge him, not even angle herself to get closer to him.
She felt so isolated and distant from everything even though Jaal was right there and with SAM in her head she wasn't really ever alone. And yet…she felt this horrible yawning pit in her stomach.
She was Pathfinder, a position of power and authority. A symbol of hope for thousands. A solid rock.
And it took her until that moment to realize how fucking lonely she was.
How anchored could a rock be, floating in space?
"Are you alright, darling?"
Reality slammed back, where she was, who she was. Jaal had been reached for her free hand, which had been balled in a fist on her knee. Sara recoiled instinctively, pulling her hand away. trying to banish the fog that was trying to overtake her mind.
"I'm fine," she snapped.
Defense mechanism: deflect, hide, revisit when alone.
She set the datapad on the table, perhaps a bit louder and harder than necessary. She wanted to hit something. Or scream. Or both. Or neither. She didn't know.
Regret slapped her in the face almost immediately. And when she turned to look at Jaal, she saw the results of her work: he looked hurt. Like she had physically struck him
Sara couldn't bear looking at his face, so instead turned to stare at the table in front of her.
"I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me," Sara said.
Her arms rested on her knees, hunched over the edge of the couch.
Guilt gnawed at her. 'I don't know' didn't feel like enough. Jaal didn't deserve to be snapped at. After everything they had been through together, he deserved much better from her.
She opened her mouth and shut it again.
How the fuck was she supposed to put what she was feeling into words? She couldn't answer a question when she didn't know the answer herself.
After a moment of tense silence, Jaal moved. Sara prided herself for not flinching, keeping her gaze straight ahead.
She fully expected for Jaal to get up and leave. He probably had better things to do than to sit next to his sullen CO/girlfriend.
She didn't expect a warm hand to press against her back.
Oh.
Sara stiffened in surprise, neither pushing into or pulling away from the touch. The hand didn't move, just resting there, right between her shoulder blades.
Her throat felt raw, bones heavy.
Jaal could probably feel her heart beating. She wondered if he knew her heart had stopped the moment Akksul pulled the trigger and almost blew his head off and only started again when she realized Jaal was still alive.
A sharp inhale at the memory. Another almost-loss.
Slowly, tentatively, she moved closer, sliding back and to the right, seeking him out. The hand on her back moved the wrap over her hips, pulling her until she was leaning against Jaal's chest.
Her own chest felt tight, pressing and straining at the seams.
Jaal was big and solid, very real and alive. She needed that, needed him. He was too patient, too good for her.
Sara reached for his free hand, cradling it in her own, lacing their fingers together.
She inhaled and exhaled, a loud, shuddery thing. She wanted to melt and disappear. At least the last thing she would've felt was this.
This was comfort, different than camaraderie or sex. Something she didn't realize she needed before she felt so small and removed like a speck of stardust.
They sat there, Jaal's breathing and heartbeat a calming song to her ears.
"I—I don't get touched all that often," she mumbled.
Sara immediately regretted opening her mouth. She felt like a child, begging for a soft touch. She was a full-grown woman, dammit, she shouldn't be feeling this way. Perhaps being in an unfeeling tank, asleep and unaware, for 600 years did something to her.
When she woke up, she hoped to see her brother. One piece of her old life that she could cling to. But, just kidding, he was in a coma. Then she sought out her father, maybe 600 years and a new galaxy would help mend their distant and sometimes icy relationship. But, just kidding, he died to save her life in less than a day.
Then, it was mission after mission, trying to fix a situation that threatened to come apart at the seams and destroy everything. She didn't get to stop. Even her getting together with Jaal was a rushed job between disasters.
"We angarans often engage in physical contact," Jaal said, each word felt as well as heard. "I understand that it is different for humans."
Sara shook her head.
"No, we do that too. It's just…"
She couldn't explain it, didn't know how to begin to explain it.
She had to be hard and strong for so fucking long.
Jaal pulled her closer until she was practically sitting in his lap, cradling her like one would a child.
"Shh, my heart, it will be okay."
The dam broke then, like Jaal somehow had said the magic words.
Sara buried her face against his chest and tears started to flow, wordless, incoherent.
Jaal held her, keeping her together as she let herself crack.
"Don't let me go," she begged, fisting her hands into his clothes, voice small and broken.
She needed him. She needed him and his warmth and his touch like she needed oxygen. Just this once, she wanted to take and hold and be selfish.
Jaal pressed a kiss into her hair and she laughed, almost incredulously.
Too good. He was too good for her.
"I'm not going anywhere," he murmured.
And they stayed that way, until she fell asleep.
…
Haaaa…figured I dip my toes into this fandom with this flangsy thing as opposed to a monstrous smut piece (which may or may not be in the wings…who knows?)
Sooo all feedback is appreciated! I would love to write more for this fandom but I am garbage at figuring out ideas so feel free to drop prompts on my tumblr at tiaraofsapphires!
Cheers!
~Tiara of Sapphires