ELEVEN:

Fear

Love

Time

She sat on a padded wicker lounge under the stars. She held her legs curled up, resting her chin on her knee, emerald eyes watching the clear night sky. The air was deliciously cooler, so she wore a plain white t-shirt and a thin pair of grey sweats. Never thought I'd miss the cold, she thought as her eyes took in the scenery. Thessia's moon was bright on the horizon, tinted green, roughly ten times the size of Luna back on Earth. She started counting the craters and dark patches of ruined cities on its surface.

It had been a long day – emotionally draining, yet she knew sleep wouldn't come easily this night. She found it difficult to categorize how she felt. She never let anyone see her break before; the shrinks had pushed her for years on Earth as they dug through the past, coached her about managing her triggers. All of it was academic. She had executed their instructions like stripping a rifle; mechanical, detached, impassive.

Liara made her feel. It was terrifying – part of her felt the deepest shame for being so…vulnerable. Another part felt an overwhelming sense of relief; the freedom of a burden lessened, without reproach or interrogation, without judgement or pity. She felt her eye water again as she heard Liara whispering 'I am here.'

So much conflict; so many questions. When does it end? Will it ever end?

Part of her knew that it wouldn't – not really. The years of repression had already taken their toll. She would carry these demons for the rest of her days; however many she had left. And yet, she knew how she felt after that collapse on the beach – the feeling of being wrapped in blue, of showing her true self to the one soul who had always been there for her. Shedding her armor for those brief moments was like walking through cleansing fire: brutal, agonizing, uplifting and incredible.

They never spoke about it. What was there to say? They were in uncharted territory now – both of them shocked by what they had seen, heard and felt.

I hope I didn't scare her, Shepard thought as she swiped a tear across her knee. Oh Blue…you don't know what you do to me. How can I tell you? How can I show you how much I appreciate you, after all the pain I've caused? How can you forgive me?

Impossible to think such things.

Do you not know, she had asked – achingly soft.

Shepard took a deep breath as she watched the moon's reflection on the impossibly calm water as she hugged her legs tighter. What did that mean? Do I know she cares? That she's my friend? That she…loves me? She buried her face in her knees. I don't know. I can't hope for that – God, I don't know.

The absurdity of it all was not lost on her. Here she was: a soldier, a Spectre no less – the woman who charged into enemy fire, Reapers, death itself - yet sat paralyzed by her own fear. Fear of rejection, fear of causing more harm, fear of living.

I'm a goddamned coward.

Her hands ran through her shortened hair with the admission. She cut it, after dinner - unwilling to tolerate the stifling mane of oppression any longer. Thessia was too hot. She used a pair of scissors and a comb, slicing through scarlet locks after her shower. It felt better, lighter, like the rest of her.

Still.

She tried to focus, to summon the rational, analytical portions of her brain that were not muddled by emotion. Assess the situation. Adapt and overcome. She had always found a way – right or wrong, life or death, victory or defeat. The pain was always there – always will be – a lifetime of snap-decisions and living with the consequences was her burden to carry.

There has to be a way through this – there has to be a way to show her how I feel. How she makes me feel. That's why I came here, isn't it? If it all goes south – what's left for me? What else can I possibly lose? Nothing. I thought I was ready…I thought it was over. Now…Goddammit, Blue.

She watched the stars she loved twinkle in the void.

'Help me out here, Anderson,' she whispered.

She watched as a streak of blue-green flared briefly across the sky. A small smile curved her lips.

Roger that, Skipper.


Liara padded barefoot into her study, the soft fabric of her robe swished as she walked. The lights were dimmed, letting the soft green moonlight flood in through the wide-open doors of the balcony and large windows. The air was cool but not chilly – a welcome reprieve from the day's heat. She walked to the edge of the balcony, breathing in the night air, enjoying the slight breeze as it caressed her skin.

Such a beautiful, peaceful night, she thought, lifting her gaze to the stars. She missed being out there – missed the simple life of an explorer, free from responsibility and politics. Part of her wanted to take the E'Larissa and just…go – never looking back – to wander the cosmos and discover all it's wonders.

A dream, now, she sighed. Nothing will ever be as it was.

Her mind turned to Shepard with the thought, as she held herself tightly. Goddess, how do I help her? She is in such pain, burdened by so much, the thought trailed away as she shook her head. I would take that agony gladly, if she would only let me. How can I tell her? Does she really not know that I love her? That I've always loved her?

She came so close to falling apart today; holding Shepard as she sobbed, feeling her trembling body in her arms. It was almost her undoing. She wanted nothing more than to tell her that she was not alone – that she loved her, needed her. Liara cursed herself for being so weak.

And yet.

She knew the timing was wrong. She needed to be careful. Shepard was obviously under considerable emotional strain – simply being here on Thessia had likely prompted a host of painful memories to the front of her mind.

Perhaps this was not the best course of action, she thought again as she slid a hand up her forehead and over her crests. Goddess, I feel so lost. Blind, fumbling in the dark, desperately reaching for shadows and dust. She couldn't even look at me at dinner – barely said a word to anyone before leaving for her room. Did I push too far? Did I force that pain upon her?

Tears welled from the depths of her cerulean eyes as she shut them tightly.

In my selfish need…have I driven her away?

She turned from the moonlight then – holding her face, brow knitted at the thought. Her mind wandered as she walked – with no conscious destination – from the study. She had been wandering the house more and more lately, in truth. Always lost in thought – worried about the future – fretting over the past.

I lost her once – in more ways than one, she frowned at the thought. Shepard's death at Alchera had broken her; to know love so briefly and have it torn away so violently had scarred her in more ways than she wanted to admit. Yet she came back, Liara shook her head, and nothing could ever be the same.

She remembered after the Shadow Broker, after the surging adrenaline rush of that brutal fight: They stood near the comms terminals, both of them guarded and distant for different reasons. Liara knew she had sacrificed Shepard's love for her to bring her back – by giving her to Cerberus. Nothing she said could change that – yet she watched Shepard's face, scarred even then yet…open, and saw the embers of what once was in her emerald eyes.

In time, perhaps, you will forgive me, she remembered thinking. Goddess knows I will always love you.

The words were spoken - they would remain friends. The Collectors were dead – yet the true enemy remained. The Reapers were coming. Nothing else mattered.

But it did! Goddess, it did, she wanted to scream. All her pain, the grief, the triumphs and defeats, ALL of it…I could have helped her shoulder it. I should have!

She found herself in the wide-open foyer, watching her reflection through the mosaic tiles below her feet. Her eyes drifted, half lidded by guilt, to the lonely piano nestled into a corner. She didn't feel like playing. She had been neglecting her lessons for months.

Her feet carried her towards it anyway.


Shepard had been wandering the house, hoping to find Liara, when the first few notes reached her ears. She knew what it was instantly yet didn't know where it was. She hoped it was Liara but forced the spike of excitement down. It's a big house, with a lot of people. Might be anyone, she told herself.

She focused on the sound, letting her eyes follow her ears. The notes were soft – melancholic yet…hopeful. The sound echoed, throwing her off track, taking her down corridors and hallways that seemed to look alike. This place is entirely too big, she shook her head.

She tried not to hurry. The growls from her prosthetics were anything but quiet – especially if she moved quickly. She didn't want to wake anyone – or alert whoever was playing the piano. There was only so much she could do though. So much for infiltration or evasion, she sighed.

She cleared a hallway, recognizing the tall sweeping ceiling of the main foyer from the dark beams of stained wood high overhead. She was on the second level, and as she approached the railing, leaning on her forearms, she looked down.

Liara.

She sat at the piano – her back to Shepard – playing the sad, slow song. To Shepard's ears, it spoke of longing, of regret and loss. She felt her heart ache from the sound alone. Ah, Blue, she shook her head. What are you doing to yourself?

The notes changed as the song evolved, higher keys in a faster tempo. Grief turned to relief, sadness to hope, loss to joy. She cocked her head, listening, feeling her bottom lip tremble. Her legs moved of their own – towards the wide staircase. Her eyes never left Liara; her head bowed, eyes closed as she played.

The spell was broken as she descended the stairs – Liara's slender blue hands ceased and she folded them on her lap. Damned mechanical freak, she thought venomously as she stopped at the bottom of the stairs, watching her. She didn't turn to face her or lift her head.

'I am sorry if I woke you,' Liara whispered.

Shepard shrugged. 'I…couldn't sleep,' she walked closer. 'Guess I'm not the only one.'

Liara lifted her head at last, taking a breath. 'No,' she said softly.

Silence stretched. 'Want some company,' Shepard asked, matching her tone.

Liara brushed her hands across her face before turning to Shepard, a small smile on her face. 'Yes,' she said simply. She stood, approaching Shepard. Her head cocked as her blue eyes roamed the woman's face. 'You cut your hair.'

Shepard felt one corner of her lips lift as she ran a hand through it. 'Yeah,' she dropped her eyes. 'Was too hot under all that.'

Liara beamed. 'I like it,' she nodded, gesturing to the doors on the far side of the foyer leading to the gardens. 'It is a beautiful night. Would you like to talk outside,' she asked.

Shepard nodded. 'Okay.'

They walked in silence, only the soft padding of bare feet and the snarls from artificial limbs marked their passing. Shepard felt her heart hammering in her chest. It thundered in her ears, impossibly loud, drowning everything out. She took a deep breath and rolled her shoulders – trying to diffuse the tension.

Liara noticed as they entered the patio overlooking the gardens. Her face was drawn into a mask of concern, her eyes glittered in the moonlight. 'Shepard…I,' she began, then her face fell with her eyes. 'I do not want to make you uncomfortable,' she finished, barely more than a whisper.

Shepard felt her brow knit as she took a step closer. 'Not uncomfortable, Blue,' she shook her head. The moonlight danced over Liara's skin – she almost sparkled in the light-green radiance. Shepard felt her throat tightening. 'Terrified,' she choked on the word.

Liara dropped her head to her chest, her bottom lip quivering.

'No,' Shepard moved closer instantly – unable to stop herself. Her body was trembling as she ran her hands up Liara's arms to cup her cheeks. She brushed her tears away with slow swipes of her thumbs. 'I don't want to hurt you, Blue,' she fumbled the words out through numbed lips. 'I never wanted to hurt you.'

Liara's impossibly blue eyes searched her own as they welled with tears. Her hands snaked up, holding onto Shepard's forearms as she pressed their bodies together. She felt her breath as her lips parted. She felt Liara try to shake her head.

'Shepard, please,' she barely heard Liara croak the words – her eyes told her everything, as they always did. She lost herself in those brilliant pools of blue, consumed by the longing desperation within. She watched them grow larger as she pulled Liara's face closer.

Their foreheads met.

Eyelids fell as noses touched.

Soft blue lips brushed against pale pink, flavored with sweet, gentle tears.

Time stood still.