Grave to cradle, Arc 3 of "Gone with the Sun"
Chapter 20 Run silent, run deep
Each consent a lucky gasp for life
How could she have allowed this to happen? She tossed and turned, wildly wondered where she could run, imagined ways of eliminating the alien growth within. She couldn't go through with it. She couldn't not go through with it. Where could she run? How had she come to this? What had she been thinking?
Eventually, so very late, she stopped thinking.
That night she dreamed of meeting him, as they had been after the Cerberus coup. Strangely, Harkin's disguise and fake ID had worked. Very few refugees knew her real name, and they were able to cultivate a remarkable blindness among the others, so she wasn't hiding any more; C-Sec was back in charge. Still, she kept seeing 'ghosts' – a glance at a person on the street might show a familiar face, a friend on the lam from Cerberus, but looking twice would reveal a total stranger. That wore her down.
Except once or twice a week it really would be an old friend and they would cry on each other's shoulders, then quickly realize they were dangerous to each other and separate again. Some cells she sent Shep's way, one to Chakwas, others to see Bailey, a few to Zaeed – the angrier ones with the bad implants. He'd compliment her complement, saying they were his best recruits ever.
She didn't quite know how to take that.
But she would return home every night and delve into her burrow among her refugees, who never failed her. Even the batarians appreciated her, and not just the slaves. She kept going, for it was something she could do. She knew people, and had a knack for getting across what needed to be done.
Especially the food. It had been getting scarce, but mainly because of bureaucracy, the automated farm freighters were still getting through the relays. It just wasn't moving off the docks till she got involved. That had been a scary time. It turned out some people very much wanted the rations to stay on the docks, especially the laevo-rations. She had spoken to Garrus. Garrus had spoken to Bailey. She didn't want to appear on Bailey's radar, but had spoken to Massani, then somehow Bailey had known where to find her. Massani had plotted and schemed with Garrus, and both had disappeared for a couple of days. Then they came back, and magically some other people did not.
She'd felt bad about that. She had only wanted the obstructions and threats to stop; now she obscurely felt guilty. Massani just kidded her about it. Garrus wouldn't say anything to her at all, but Chloe – much braver than she – asked him sternly "how many of the toads did you bump off?" He'd languorously sipped his brandy and said "An elegant sufficiency, dear heart." Gentlemen apparently didn't talk about the ladies they lived with or the men they'd offed. So now they lived with occasional rumblings from people who resented them. But it wasn't anything like as bad as literally hiding in dark corners and keeper tunnels from white-and-gold Cerberus troops. Who'd had a little list. Of people who never would be missed.
Which she was on. She was still scared to death most days.
Nightmares persisted. Being back in the pod.
I see the Sun
Shepard returned. Come back, he'd asked earlier. Not in her capacity as refugee liaison; his old crew was gone, he wanted his yeoman. That was too much and she had work to do, but this time he really was looking for her. Checking on her. Couldn't believe it, but she felt a sun blossoming inside.
He looked alarmingly unwell, though. Nothing physical, something around the eyes. Caught in some web, turned in on himself. Who's looking after you? – fishing.
Vanished. So, he had no-one. Again.
She couldn't go back to that ship. Even now. Still, sufficient unto the day… Talk with me.
They retreated to the containerized burrow, knowing how it must end but somehow not able to stop themselves. And once in her private space, they held each other, and kissed, and she cried, and he had some tears too. So she told him her most evil memories, which had become her nightmares, and he told her about Mordin, and Thane, and being powerless to stop their deaths.
She knew all about being powerless, and kissed him, longer, harder. He kissed away the salty tears from her eyes, her face, her neck… "Dear God, but I missed you so," and she burst in tears again, that meant another kiss. "Shep–"
"– Shh. Later." And it all went completely out of control then, dear God but he was strong, and an orange mist had descended over the memory, but she could dream of them collapsed entwined together, for some seconds simply panting and staring at each other, till the panting slowed to breathing and he began to speak; "Kelly–"
She tried to shut him up, winding her legs around. Still: "If I've done you harm–"
"Listen at you."
"But–" (Finger against his lips, now.)
"I've been at your disposition for some time, you silly man. Shush."
"You're your own–" Index finger against his lips, again.
"– said the man who rescued the demoiselle from the dragon. Shepard. If you hadn't risked everything for us, and in particular for me, I'd be reaper paste. I've loved you since I can't remember when, and I owe you more than a few abrasions will ever repay."
Whereupon they spoke at length about how he was not an evil cradle-robber, and she was no schoolgirl (although it hadn't actually been all that long). Together they showered then twined together again on the bed and spoke a long, long time, about dreams, and death, and love, and life. Popping her cherry figured just a little bit.
"One more thing." She grinned at him; his cobwebs were blown. Mission accomplished. So were hers; collateral damage.
He stirred: "– What?"
"It's been more than an hour. Kiss me, and do it again."
So he did.
Then she woke.
Why had she thought running was a good idea?
– Next chapter will be #21, "Risky Business…" –
Saturday, July 18, 2015