Red. It was red. Red washing over a world of grey.
Liara gaped, bent over, unable to breath and not caring. As the Normandy accelerated, all she could see out her window was the red that consumed the whole world. The craft shuddered, and she shook. Her freshly consummated home lay in destruction in a way which paled even the greyness of the collapse of Thessia weeks before. That fresh wound, though still burning, could never burn the same way this red did. One was a part of her by birth, and the other by nature. She remembered another red, the red of His scars before they had been healed, red had brought Him back, but had now taken Him away. She knew she would never pick up the pieces. Even if Cerberus were still around, there would be no pieces. Finally choking down a breath which she hated to take, a tear came out of the blue. She was one, alone, but she had been One the night before, and so without Him, she was broken, and no longer one. He had left her, and run towards the blue of the beam, left his blue behind, and now all Liara saw was red. Red, yes real red, but she saw red remembering His promise. Sirens blared, red lights, and she could hear nothing. Nothing. She wished she could feel nothing. See black not red, but no, not the black of nothing. The black she saw alone with Him, through black eyes, in the black, with stars, a goodbye, and a promise to do what needed to be done. The Normandy jerked to the side and suddenly, she got the gift of nothing.
The next morning she couldn't feel her arm. Had Shepard pushed her off the bed? Morning? The light of a sun? In the left pap, where the heart lies, something died, and she let out a breath it felt like she had held for weeks. Just inhale. Sitting up, and seeing her room wrecked, her tears began to flow, and she let out a sigh, as on earth, a mangled body inhaled to spite her red.