Slipping
In quiet moments Shepard gets to pretend that she's innocent again. In these moments she remembers what it was like to be a child, with muddy hands and scabby knees; padding through the ship's corridors seeking the company of her mother's voice. The comfort that it used to bring was heart warming, the kind of comfort an adult didn't get. She was too old for that now, the little cuddles and tickle fights on the couch. Even cushion forts that she had hid in, pretending to shoot enemies with a gun made of fingers.
Instead she was stuck with the constant chatter of her brain thinking, her thoughts louder than the ships core thrumming away in the background. She craved silence, the bliss of uninterrupted sleep, of dreams and worlds that she could create in her head. Her creative mind had slipped away like the years, wrinkles deepening as duty took its toll.
The datapad slipped from her fingers and she keeled over. She brought her knees to her chest, head resting against the pillow in the corner of the couch. The ship vibrated underneath her and she desperately tried to shut it out.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in.
She closed her eyes, arms clutching her knees tighter. There was no peace anymore. None for her and never again. She had lost the last slither of hope, the one chance she had to be the one to demand cuddles and tickle fights.
Hope had been the briefest of lights in her dark world, it had been a candle burning, flickering as the rain poured against her skin.
The truth was she had been soaked to the skin since she had shot her first gun. She had been proud once, and she was still but in a different way. Before she had felt the exhilaration but now she was swallowed by this heaviness and the melancholy of wondering who was going to die today, wondering if it'll ever be her.
She had lost so much already. There wasn't anything left except fragments of her human body and the mind that had been so sought for by Cerberus. She had already been brought back to life once what stopped anyone from doing it again? There was nothing left in this empty hell with only her troubling thoughts as company.
Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.
She watched him in the chair at her desk, perched with legs crossed on the sofa. He was focusing on his breathing, muttering the words to himself and slipping into a peaceful stillness where he could gather his thoughts. He had taught her once; breathing exercises and stretches to relax her body. He moved her body with precision and she felt cocooned in serenity with his arms around her, moving her to his whim. She was his puppet and he brought peace to her in an envelope titled Siha.
Shepard tucked further in on herself. Burrowing her cheeks into her knees and pressing her eyes to the darkness till they hurt. Whispers of him kept her awake at night, torturing her with his missed presence. The silence of her quarters was unbearable. She let out a husky sob, heat rushing over her face and chest as she pressed further into her legs.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
He was hunting her, obsidian eyes narrowed to dark slithers. So deft, he sought her with the slight curve of his lips and a stare that never left her. In the darkness of closed eyes she could make them out perfectly, seeking their gaze, wanting to feel him watching her again. She had felt powerful under his gaze once. The soldier, the undefeated warrior. She had been given a reason and her reason was him. From the beginning to the end, the Assassin had been the storm to her rain, the hurricane that left nothing but the wreckage of a woman who had been happy once.
Breathe in.
She was hiding beneath the sheets making muffled cries with her stuffed teddy clutched in her fists. Thunder rumbled and the flash of white light stifled the shriek that erupted from her lips. She shivered helplessly with the rain pounding against the glass. The curtains shook, the wind howling past the walls of her house.
She murmured to her teddy and held it to her chest. The creaks of the floor outside her room caught her attention and she watched the shadow that crept into her room. Warm arms embraced her, wrapping them both up in the sheet and pulling her into a hug.
"Everything is going to be okay," She nestled closer seeking the warmth of her mother's touch. She cried and then cried more. Fear poured down her cheeks, soaked her mother's shirt and her own. When the thunder stopped she listened to the rain believing that it would be.
Breathe out.
Except it wasn't. The war wasn't thunder and lightning and the Assassin's absence wasn't just bad weather. He had been the missing half and she was cursed to go on living, missing that part of herself.
Breathe in.
Her arms ached, her fingers stiff from the hold on her legs. She feared to move, fearing the cool, complacent air of her quarters. She had tried her best not to rearrange anything but it was still like Thane hadn't even been there. He had always been the ghost.
Breathe out.
Her body relaxed into the couch, the cushions shaping to her posture and feeling heavier than before she rubbed old tears from her cheeks and blotted out the light with a hand.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
She closed her eyes again. She was the Commander, a woman with bloody hands and raw cut knees; she chased the Normandy's corridors, seeking the solace of his voice and the comfort that it brought. She chased the emptiness, the loneliness and was brought to his room, palming the cup sat idly on the desk. A familiar ghost of him made gooseflesh rise along her arms.
Breathe in.
His hands pushed apart her thighs, moving his hips to press against hers. He kissed her, teeth against her lip, tongue grazing hers. He made a throaty sound, a little growl. She murmured her desires as a breathy moan. He touched her. Pushed her. Brought her to the cliffs and beckoned her to the depths below.
Breathe out.
She reached for the datapad that lay askew on the floor. The words whispered from her lips, her eyes clouding and tears prickled at the corners. She scrunched up her face and let out an annoyed huff. Work beckoned her; she had promises to keep and lives to save. She rolled onto her back and let the datapad rest against her chest. She stared up at the blank grey ceiling, following the curve of the corner with her eyes and then closing them again.
The ship hummed, vibrating through her body. She wanted to be numb, to desperately feel nothing. But emptiness was something and it was this something that was devastating. She traced familiar patterns along her lips, teeth grazing the skin of her bottom lip. She repeated her mother's words as a mantra.
Breathe in
Everything is going to be okay.
Breathe out
She sighed, rolling onto her side, snatching the datapad before it clattered to the floor. Emails flashed on screen, EDI's holographic voice echoing suddenly around her room. She sat up, rolling her neck, dusting herself off and preparing herself to act as the Commander. Everything was going to be okay. But no matter how many times she whispered it, begged it or prayed for it. It never would be.