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Sheparding Men
Chapter Seven: Something Truthful
"Their breathes tangle in the space between them, each too tentative to move, each sitting in anxious and heated trepidation." - A war-battered Shepard learns about love from the different men in her life. Memory. Passion. Constancy. These are the gifts they gave her.
Shepard sits across from Thane in the Normandy's Life Support as he explains his Kepral's Syndrome. She focuses on the smooth rumble of his voice. Watches the elegant motion of his hands. Memorizes the lifts and curves of his lips as he speaks.
She cannot place the source of her fixation. Cannot name what magic in his voice keeps her still before him. She has never liked mysteries.
She frowns. Twists in her chair to push from her seat.
Thane blinks a silent farewell, and then he is turned from her.
Her teeth grind in uncertainty. This feeling is unknown. It is unnerving. Aggravating. She is surprised to realize, as she walks from the room, that it is also exhilarating.
Shepard's hands still over the terminal's keys. The screen before her is bare except for Kaidan's extranet messaging address. She blinks at the screen, then leans back into her chair. One hand comes up to her rib, resting along the cotton of her tank top, to unconsciously graze the burn scar of a Collector Particle Beam she suffered on Horizon. Sighing, Shepard closes the terminal and moves to leave her cabin.
"Shepard, may I speak with you?"
Sheaprd turns in her navigator's seat beside Joker, her smile fading instantly at the image of Jacob standing before her.
He stands with his hands clasped behind his back, shoulders pulled taut, chin high. Shepard sighs and raises herself to stand as well. "In the comm. room, Officer."
"Try not to burn the ship down, kiddies," Joker throws out laughingly at their backs as they move from the cockpit. Shepard throws a dangerous look the pilot's way.
"Jeff, that is a highly unlikely scenario." EDI's voice floats through the room. "Section seals would activate and venting of the area containing the flames would occur before the fire could grow substantially enough to 'burn the ship down'."
Joker pulls a hand to his face. "It was an expression, EDI. You know, a human expression?"
Jacob and Shepard are too far away to hear the remainder of the conversation. They are already moving through the armory and into the communications room. Shepard turns and leans back against the table, crossing her arms.
Jacob stands at attention. "Permission to speak freely?"
Shepard snorts. "This isn't a military ship, Mr. Taylor. Besides, hasn't stopped you before."
Jacob only swallows thickly, licking his lips as he considers his words. "I'm concerned about the assassin."
"Thane?"
Jacob nods. "We have no guarantee of his loyalty."
She raises her brows. "For that matter, I have no guarantee of loyalty from any of you."
Furrowing his brows, Jacob continues. "None of your crew has ever been contracted hit men. There is a difference, Shepard."
Something in his tone makes anger bloom promisingly in her. "That only means you haven't been paid to kill, not that you are any more justified in the lives you've taken."
Jacob huffs angrily, and it is almost amusing to Shepard. "And you?"
Shepard stands straight at this. "We are not discussing the moral justifications of anyone's kills here, especially not mine." Her nostrils flare at his gall. She scoffs and unfolds her arms. "You think I count myself as any better than you or this crew? Then you really have no idea who I am. And let me tell you, it's ugly. There is hardness and unapology and things worse than you think you know. But right now, this is my ship. And this is my decision. And you don't have to like it but you damn well better not question it."
Jacob stands stiff, his fists at his sides, his jaw clamped tight.
"Are we clear?" There is danger lacing her tone.
"Yes, ma'am," Jacob breathes harshly.
Shepard shakes her head, her eyes hard on the officer before her, and then she is leaving the room without a backwards glance.
"Really? Never?" Miranda asks her commander, surprised, as they sit in a cab on their way to the crime scene that will lead them to Samara.
Shepard shakes her head. "Never had a reason."
"You don't need a reason to visit Illium," Miranda responds, smiling. "It's just a place you have to visit."
Shepard rolls her eyes. "As you tell it."
"It is a very beautiful planet, however hidden its danger." Thane's smooth rumble of a voice fills the cab's interior as they speed over Nos Astra's docking port.
"You've been? I mean, before the Dantius thing?" Shepard asks curiously as she looks back to the drell.
"On several assignments, yes." His eyes are dark and steady as they watch Shepard.
She eyes him curiously. "And how do you find it?"
Thane considers a moment before he speaks, turning his gaze to glance outside the virtual windows and to the city speeding past them. "Fast-moving. Elusive. Bright."
Shepard cocks her head and finds herself entranced by his words.
"Full of motion and light. But there is darkness brimming underneath."
Miranda nods. "As there is in any world." It is almost sad when she says it.
Thane returns his gaze to Shepard. "Hidden away, where few may find it, there is struggle here. Anger, hardship. When you dig deep enough, it is apparent how easy one may find themselves lost. Drifting. It is easy to forget oneself here in both the light and the dark. But one is not an apt enough description without the other."
Shepard wonders if he is still speaking of Illium. She doesn't care. Something in his words sounds familiar.
Lost.
She knows the feeling well.
She swallows and turns her eyes to the window, watching the motion and light Thane spoke of. Her smile is sad and resigned. "I wonder if I'll ever see it without the looming threat of the Reapers."
"It's what we're fighting for, Shepard." Miranda tries to sound reassuring but even she knows the odds are against them. She can only hope for something more for her sister. A different life. A free one.
Shepard looks at Miranda beside her and smirks. "I thought I was already done with this fight," she almost laughs.
"It is not done with you, Shepard," Thane answers surely, knowingly.
Her eyes snap to his and there is a quiet fury lodged in her heart at his words. It has nothing to do with him and everything to do with the truth in his words.
Thane leans forward and clasps his hands, elbows on his knees, to watch her. "You are here for a reason. Do not be so dismissive of it until you can understand why."
Shepard wants to snarl something back but it only sounds like whining to her, only sounds like a child throwing a tantrum. She sits back stiffly in her seat and does not look at the drell. She bites her lip, swallows down her words. Somehow it matters. It matters that he not think any less of her.
There is a fluidity to their movements as they fight the Eclipse mercenaries. An unspoken knowledge of the other at all times. Bullets fly dangerously by Shepard as she crouches behind a wall. Thane sends a biotic Pull at the mercenaries across from them and Shepard dispatches them quickly as they fly helplessly through the air. She sends an Incinerate toward the incoming mechs, and Thane makes quick work of the engineer on the far side repairing the drones, sending a bullet from his sniper precisely between the salarian's eyes.
It is not the easy, thrilling fun of battle that she shares with Garrus. Not the blood-pumping, adrenaline filled fight with Wrex or Grunt or Zaeed. Not the blue-tinged combat filled with the tingling haze of biotics from Liara or Jack. Not the quick and efficient motions shared with Tali or Mordin. Not even the assurance and steadiness that comes at the side of Kaidan. It is nothing but awe and fear and an ache she cannot describe.
Shepard watches Thane move and knows instinctively how to react, how to shift between cover, how to dance through bullets and showering omni-tool powers. How to be vulnerable and open and not sealed away. How to move from stagnation into light, how to reach from that dying place inside for something, anything, that makes her feel. It is overwhelming.
The danger makes her urgent. Thane makes her fervent.
The drell lets off a round of his sniper and Shepard finishes the Eclipse with an Incinerate. He looks back at her, a smile breaking slowly over the planes of his face. "I could get used to not working alone."
Shepard finds herself smiling back unconsciously.
Samara explains her solution to their dilemma succinctly and calmly.
Shepard watches the Justicar silently as Detective Anaya explains the situation.
The asari stands straight, her countenance both severe and graceful.
Shepard contemplates the Justicar and her 'Code'. She has never understood such rigidity. But she recognizes the discipline needed to lead such a life. It is a demand she knows she would never be strong enough to endure herself. It makes respect for the asari easy and unquestioning. It makes her smile natural and reassuring when she grasps the other woman's hand to shake.
Samara inclines her head gratefully.
Shepard has taken to sparring matches with Thane in the shuttle bay, out of view of the crew or where equipment can be damaged.
They are in one now, glistening with sweat and breathing heavily.
Thane's smile is a momentary glint in the slanted lights of the deck before he is on her. One leg sweeps out to trip Shepard, but she is jumping over the swing quickly, moving a fist to his head. He ducks lowly and steps around her, moving to catch her other arm as it swings back toward him, her body twisting with the motion. He catches it, and turns swiftly, holding her arm painfully behind her back.
She cries out softly, first surprised, and then furious. His motions are quick and calculated, executed without hesitation, and without a moment's notice. She throws her head back to catch him in the face, but he has expected as much and twists back, still holding her. She reacts instinctively. Placing a foot behind his own leg, she knocks it out from under him and takes advantage of his lean back to upset his footing, moving with him as he falls back to the floor. He grunts in mild surprise.
Thane releases his hold of her to brace himself against the floor, but she is already falling with him, landing forcefully on top of him and knocking the wind from him momentarily. She rolls off of him to regain her footing, replacing the cautious space between them. Thane is on his feet in the same time, a hand to his side, his breathing low and dragging.
Shepard blinks in concern, his condition suddenly at the forefront of her mind. He had initially waved off her apprehension at sparing with him, assuring her that he was still in fighting condition and eager to test his abilities against the 'great Commander Shepard'. She had laughed disparagingly, rolling her eyes at his description of her. Now though, she hesitates, feet bracing her lowly against the deck floor.
Thane blinks up at her, and then quirks a slow, challenging smile. "I am still waiting for 'the legend', Commander Shepard."
Shepard lets out a short disbelieving laugh, shaking her head. "Alright, Krios. You asked for it." She rushes him.
There is only a brief glimpse of surprise in his eyes before Thane realizes she intends to bull rush him, full force. He braces himself, ducks low and then raises up to catch her as she throws her full weight into him. He grabs a leg, using her own momentum to lift her into the air, her weight at his back and she is growling angrily in his ear. He chuckles unconsciously. He moves to slam her back down onto the floor when she grabs one of his arms and yanks it back, forcing his other arm to slide up and hold her by the torso.
Shepard smiles victoriously, her legs now free, and winds her calves around Thane's neck, attempting to choke him out, twisting them both to the floor where they land forcefully on their sides, both grunting in pain but unrelenting in their hold on one another. Shepard thinks she sees a smirk cross Thane's face as he struggles beneath the hold of her legs. Her confidence shakes slightly at the sight.
Before she can register it, Thane has them flipped so that she is on her stomach, her legs still tight around his neck as he sits along her back, his hands bracing against her calves. She slams a fist on the ground, roaring in frustration, unable to lean back or sit up under his weight. One of his knees digs into her spine and he reaches his hands back to grasp at her arms, twisting them in his hold so that even atop her in a leg hold, she is arched painfully into a hog-tied position.
She sucks in a sharp breath, a small whimper of pain escaping her lips that shames her. Her legs release Thane instantly, unable to hold the position any longer. He moves quickly, expectantly, turning to place an arm beneath her neck and the other hand coming up to hold her head. He braces his foot in her arm, keeping her from reaching back toward him. She grapples in the headlock, bucking wildly beneath his weight. There is no yielding. She resists for several more seconds, growling obscenities at him while he smirks above her. Eventually, she grumbles a surrender and Thane releases her instantly, moving to stand back and out of her heated reach.
Coughing briefly, Shepard looks up to Thane, a hand held to her throat, and then falls back softly to lay out on her back against the cold deck. She sighs and closes her eyes. "I'll get you one of these days." Her breathing is heavy and labored, her chest rising quickly beneath her dark tank top.
"It is unlikely."
Shepard can hear the deep, steady pull of his own breathing. She senses him kneel before her and opens one eye to watch him. His eyes flick quickly from her body up to her gaze. It is momentary, and uncertain, but Shepard feels an unexplainable tremble at the sight.
He watches her steadily. "Are you alright?"
She closes her eyes once more and sighs, a hand moving to her chest to try and steady her breathing. She waves the other dismissively at him. "Just let me catch my breath." She thinks of the leg hold she had him in and furrows her brows in mild confusion. "Why aren't you more out of breath?"
Thane moves to sit beside her, sliding one leg up to rest an arm atop his bent knee. "The ridges on my neck. All drell have them. It makes suffocation difficult for my species. Certainly an advantage in my line of work."
"I'll say," Shepard breathes, a smile soft along her face.
They stay like this for several more moments, breathing quietly as Shepard begins to regain herself. She opens her eyes and looks to Thane. She motions a hand toward him, waving it at the floor. "Join me."
She doesn't know what urges her to say the words.
Thane watches her hesitantly, blinking both lids in contemplation.
She catches herself and turns to face the ceiling. "That wasn't an order. It's just…" She watches the gray ceiling of the shuttle deck and imagines the stars outside. "It's just nice down here." She spreads a palm across the cold smooth floor.
There are several more moments of silence where Shepard silently admonishes herself, feeling anxious and vulnerable and silly. And then she feels Thane move beside her. He lays down next to her, inches and air separating them. There is something soothing about his proximity.
"You fight…unlike any I know." Thane says it quietly, wonder blooming slowly in his words.
Shepard swallows and keeps her gaze on the ceiling. "How so?"
Thane is quiet for a moment, rolling the words along his tongue, watching the same grey ceiling as Shepard. "I have seen you. With your crew. With your enemies. I have seen the way you retreat from life."
Shepard wants to snap back in denial, but she knows it is pointless. And she doesn't think she could lie to Thane anyway. She doesn't think she wants to.
He continues at her silence. "You simply go through the motions, continue along in silence and disconnection. There is hollowness to your gaze, emptiness to your movements, apathy to your words."
Shepard swallows and closes her eyes.
"You are as dead now as you were two years ago."
She snaps her eyes open and moves to sit up, her gaze angry and sharp on Thane. "You don't know anything about it," she growls.
Thane moves to sit up as well. He is still calm, still steady and sure. He continues as though she hadn't even spoken. "But not when we spar."
Shepard blinks hard at him, silent.
He cocks his head at her, his dark eyes unnerving her. "Something inside you is still defiant, still refuses defeat. Something in you doesn't want to stay dead."
Shepard finds her lip quivering and she must clamp her jaw shut. She draws a deep ragged breath through her aching lungs and wishes more than anything that she believed him. Her words are steadier than she feels. "You couldn't understand."
"I have never died before, no."
She sighs at the words, shaking her head. "I'm not the same woman I was."
"You do not have to be."
It is the first time that she does not feel ashamed or guilty for it. The first time her old life has not dug its claws in and tried to rip the past from her. She is still untethered. Still grasping in the darkness. Still lost. "But I don't know where I go from here. I don't know what one does with a second life." She wipes a hand across her eyes, slowly growing wet and she hates that he sees her like this. "It's so stupid," she mumbles mostly to herself.
He does not hesitate. "You live it."
She glances up at him, a soft, quivering laugh leaving her lips. "You make it sound so simple."
There is the slight quirk of his lips. "It isn't really. But I have felt enough regret and relived enough mistakes to understand wasted time, wasted opportunity, wasted life. I would not wish to see you waste yours. It is too good a thing to throw away uselessly. I think some part of you believes that, too." His hand is reaching to brush a stray dark curl from her braid behind her ear. He is hesitant at first, and then sure and tender, the barest hint of his finger grazing the skin of her cheek. It makes the breath catch softly in her throat. And then his warmth is gone and Shepard wonders if she imagined it.
He is looking across the room, not meeting her eyes when he speaks again. "When I said you fight like no other I know, it was that hidden defiance I meant."
Shepard breathes softly beside him and wishes for his touch again. Wishes for it with an intensity that scares her.
"An untamed spirit. Powerful. Indomitable. Unrelenting." His gaze rests on hers once more and there is something awed and tender in his gaze. "Like a fierce and dying animal."
Shepard lets out a short laugh, smirking. "Sounds absolutely barbaric."
"I think it's beautiful."
Shepard swallows tightly, shifts her gaze between his dark eyes, her fingers trembling. Her eyes flick to his lips unconsciously, only briefly, for a barely-there moment, but it is enough. Thane catches the glance and finds something warm and tight brewing in his chest, constricting in a welcome ache. Their breathes tangle in the space between them, each too tentative to move, each sitting in anxious and heated trepidation.
Shepard is the first to look away. She clears her throat, reaches her hands to the floor and pushes herself up. Thane soon follows her. Shepard brushes her hands against her bottom and adjusts her tank top.
Thane watches her intently.
She takes a deep breath in, locking gazes with him once more. "I'll see you here tomorrow?" There is a shaky longing hidden in her question.
Thane pulls his hands to grasp behind his back and nods succinctly. "Tomorrow, siha."
Shepard furrows her brows at his name for her, but does not trust herself to be near him any longer. Instead, she smiles slightly, nodding, and turns from him.
Thane watches her walk, waits for her to leave the shuttle bay before he moves himself.
"Tell me something about Omega." Shepard's words are unexpected in the dark, hollow spaces of the Collector ship. They had recently boarded after receiving a transmission from the Illusive Man about the damaged vessel. It was eerily quiet, full of empty spaces and dark promise. Shepard had reached for something else, tried to anchor her consciousness outside the void. It was the first thing she thought of when she glanced at Garrus beside her.
Garrus peeks a curious look at the commander through his visor, keeping his ears trained on the area around them. "This is hardly the time."
She doesn't know why she feels she must persist. "There is never a 'right time' for such a thing, Garrus."
Thane is smooth and all shadow beside her, sliding swiftly along the wall that would lead them into the next barren chamber.
Garrus half chuckles into the comm. link connecting them through their helmets. "Did you just wax poetic on me, Shepard?"
Shepard lowers her rifle minutely to level the turian with narrowed slits for eyes. Even through the limited space in her breather helmet, there is room enough to see her annoyance. It makes Garrus laugh again, softly, careful not to alert their enemy to their presence.
"I believe she has," comes Thane's unexpected entrance into the conversation.
"Lacks weight," Garrus replies.
"Hmm," Thane agrees. "Word choice or inflection?"
"Definitely inflection. Shepard can't say a thing without sounding like a krogan with a bowel obstruction."
Thane is thankful his back is to the woman because he does not think she would suffer him his smile. He pivots around the next corner only to find another empty corridor.
"Okay, fuck both of you then." Her words are a growl, but there is something warm and foreign blossoming in her chest. She grasps desperately at the feeling, tries to wrap it into memory and bury it deep where she can always find it. It surprises her to feel the corners of her lips twisting upwards. She feels the freedom of smiling blindingly behind the concealment of her breather helmet. She doesn't know why it should feel so rebellious. She hears both of them laugh beside her and something lights within her.
The three of them move synchronously through the vacant Collector corridors, gathering unattended tech and logging scans. EDI's voice floats gracefully through the radio in their helmets from time to time, commenting on their findings and suggesting further routes toward their destination. It is largely silent through their trek of the Collector vessel. It isn't until their discovery of the Prothean test subject hooked to scanners and lab equipment that a heaviness begins to mar their features. EDI relays the information confirming the Prothean and Collector connection. Shepard navigates through the questions and conversation easily and stoically, her voice steady, words succinct, countenance unflinching. She is the eternal commander. She is forever the soldier, forever the faceless leader. She is staunch and removed and calculated.
Something in the way she moves registers with Garrus. Had he been someone new to her company, had he been unaccustomed to her tells and her silence and her subtle movements, he may have never noticed. Never noticed the fear and confusion and apprehension bundled tight in her muscles.
Garrus glances to Thane and catches the drell sneaking glimpses toward their commander. It seems the drell is as attentive as he. And it surprises him. Because he doesn't think Thane knows the commander well enough to tell when she is slipping and consumed and in need of grounding.
They lock eyes for a moment, just enough time to pass understanding, to share the uncertainty of concern with each other. And Garrus sees the unease in the drell. Sees the unknowing. Sees that he really doesn't know Shepard well enough, sees that he is trying and attentive and for some reason, troubled. But he is still learning. Still watching. Still cautious and observing and hesitant when it comes to Shepard. Still unaware of what words and how much and to what end should he push.
But Garrus knows. Garrus recognizes when he is needed. He has always felt his way with Sheaprd.
"What do you want to know?" The turian asks nonchalantly through their radio link.
Shepard's only motion of surprise is swift blinking and the minute tension in her shoulders. "What?" There is harshness to her words that she does not intend toward Garrus.
He knows without her saying. "About Omega. What do you want to know?"
The three continue to traverse the empty corridors of the ship and there is silence long enough to make Garrus wonder if Shepard has chosen to close off again. A silence long enough to make him wonder if his words count for anything with her anymore.
He hears her swallow thickly through the comm. link, her words trailing her hesitance in similar hushed tones. "Something real."
Garrus moves his rifle to aim around the next winding corridor, her words lingering, heavy, pointed.
She hears him sigh slightly, wonders if he knew she heard it. She does not stop in her progress of the chamber they currently investigated. She flicks her gaze to his form beside her, unwavering, constant, without demand. "Something truthful," she finishes softly.
Thane moves to a nearby console to begin downloading Collector data, standing respectfully outside the audible bubble of their conversation, even when his earpiece allows for the constant open connection. He hears every word, though he feels it is outside his duty and his comprehension to participate.
"Something truthful, huh?" Garrus repeats softly, lowering his rifle to activate the scan along his omni-tool as they inspected the chamber they stood in.
Shepard didn't bother with trying to find more Collector data. She simply stood near Garrus, her sniper lowered, her gaze affixed to him, her eyes hopeful and knowing all at once.
Garrus releases a short exhale of half laughter half scoffing. "I named a batch of grenades 'Shepard'."
She blinks at him, silent. She doesn't know whether to laugh or cry or stand quietly dumbfounded. "Why?" It is the only word she can utter.
"I was angry at the time. Vengefully so. Went through a kamikaze phase I dressed up in 'vigilante justice'." When he says the words, he remembers the pain and the need and the hate. He remembers the ease that came with aiming a rifle at criminals, the release that came with gang retaliation. He knows somewhere inside, somewhere he isn't sure doesn't already belong to her, that he just hadn't recognized grief and denial for what it was. He knows that what he felt and what he did probably wasn't healthy. And he knows that Shepard may only have an inkling. "And it felt right, you know? Watching something explode in flames and destruction and have it called 'Shepard'. Have it look like how you should have gone. Not slow and unknown. Not quietly." He chances a glance in her direction. "Maybe it's a stupid wish."
She is shaking her head without realizing, her mouth tight and quivering, her eyes wet with tears she didn't think she could still feel.
Garrus turns back to the console, turns his gaze from hers because these are not things he wants to remember.
Shepard can only shake her head, only watch him. She wants this moment and this body and this stupid fucking life to mean something again. She wants to know that it wasn't without significance. She wants to know that all this pain and all this regret and all this pointless existential bullshit isn't killing her more. Isn't dragging her deeper. Isn't burying her alive. She just wants a reason to live again.
She just wants to live.
And she isn't sure she knows how anymore. She isn't sure she knows how to recognize the signs when they call to her. She isn't sure she won't be too afraid when the time comes to try for it. She isn't sure that she can call herself Commander Shepard anymore and have it mean something.
She pulls a heavy, steadying breath in, closes her eyes to the wetness and tries to control the tremble along her skin.
"Shepard."
She turns to the sound of her name, sculpted in Thane's deep, resonating tone. He is standing, waiting, watching. Unexpectant. Ready. He hoists his rifle higher in his grasp, readying for the continuation of their progress through the Collector Ship. He levels his gaze on hers. Keeps his breathing along hers. Adjusts his body so that he is a mirror reflection of her own, so that he is only a flipside away. "We are not done yet."
The words are unyielding and demanding. Purposeful. Exact. True to their current mission and yet whole encompassing on their own.
Shepard lets the words wash over her and burrow inside. She had been resentful of them at first. That she wasn't done yet. Not finished. She had been angry and spiteful and resistant. Living a mockery of a life that she thought she had finished and was now too lost to fight.
Thane stands unblinking.
Something had changed. Was changing. Changing in ways Shepard didn't think she was ready for. There was demand in this new Shepard, in intimate and hurtful ways that she had no words for. Need and defiance and a fear she could not have recognized in her old life. Fear she could not have recognized without the ache and hunger for purpose, without the yearning for a glimpse of what existence Thane promised.
She wanted a purpose. She wanted a reason.
Thane had once told her that there is reason behind even the smallest ripple in the universe. Opportunity and reason and the chance at grasping for more. The knowledge that their imprints would be felt.
Shepard slowly begins to understand that being alive for today is a promise of eternity. A measure of her worth in this immense and unknown universe. She begins to realize that there is meaning even now. Even in the 'after'. Even in this life she had thought to abandon. Even in this empty shell she had used as shelter from the world.
She stops at the thought.
She had kept herself apart for too long, alone and unconnected and without motive enough to care. She thinks of this world she is fighting for. This galaxy of possibility and impossibility. This chance at a brutal and exhilarating life. This moment of beauty and hurt and freedom. This tangled mess of connection. This ache of a presence she wants to feel.
She wants to feel it.
She wants to be part of it.
She wants to win this world and live it.
She shivers with the possibility.
Shepard keeps her gaze with Thane's and takes a step forward. Moves with purpose. Realization. Understanding.
She knows that it's okay to face the unknown. That it's okay to be trembling and raging and afraid.
She knows now that it only has meaning if she wants it.
It is easy to be angry with the Illusive Man once his knowledge of the Collector trap is revealed. It is easy to feel such rage when her crewmates are at risk. It is easy when she imagines what she had risked. Thane and Garrus.
And some small part of her is angry for herself. Angry because he had risked her life.
It is a strange thing now, to realize that she wants to live. To realize that she wants this chance at life. She finds herself fiercely protective of it. Something that is hers. Something she has power over.
It is a wondrous thing to know that her future is so unknown. So infinite. So unlimited in is reaches.
It is a wondrous thing to know that she is alive.
Shepard checks her terminal to find a message from Kaidan. She pauses, her hand stilled over the terminal's keyboard, her breath sharp and aching in her chest. She opens the message.
He asks her about the security of the channels aboard the new Normandy and the possibility of a real-time vid message. There is little else. No mention of Horizon. No questions about her well-being. Just the efficient and mission-oriented officer she first met on the Normandy years ago. It is not the Kaidan she needs right now.
Shepard deletes the message, her features hard and brow set.
Let him reach out this time.
And let there be nothing there, she thinks quietly.
She stands still and fuming in her cabin. It's spiteful, she knows. Childish. Weak. But she cannot let herself live a life that ended two years ago. And she cannot forgive Kaidan for leaving her for it. Something twists painfully in her chest. She's not the same person he once loved.
"You do not have to be."
The memory of Thane's words steadies her. Makes her pull in deep, reassuring breathes.
She thinks he might be right.