"There wasn't anything else that you could have done for him."
Much like the very real water washing away the imaginary vestiges of Jim's blood clinging to her body, Nalah's words rinsed over the doctor ineffectively. The comfort and good intentions never had a chance to penetrate the surface and instead swirled somewhere below down the drain. How does one come to terms with the fact that their best was not good enough? She leaned her forehead against the cool tile of the Butler's bathroom and it posed a pleasant juxtaposition compared to the scalding heat of the shower.
There was no point in moping here and wasting more water.
She dried off and padded towards her makeshift bed for the time being. There was a unanimous agreement that her apartment was likely not yet safe enough to return to, given the day's events (in addition to the events from several weeks prior). If she pretended hard enough, she could sometimes convince herself that this was just another, normal sleep-over. The illusion was helped by the fact that the couch had been made up as it always had and the coffee-table's contents gave way to cheap takeout boxes and wrappers. Emma paused dead in her tracks when she noticed Nalah awake at this late hour, leaning against the kitchen's marble-top island. Nalah took one look at Emma's dark-encircled eyes and held up a slender hand.
"You don't have to say anything. Come join me in my…" She twisted and read the oven's clock behind her, "very absurdly early morning snack."
Emma smirked and continued scrunching water out of her hair with the loaned towel, "You ain't still eating weird shit, are you?"
"The weird craving gods demanded a cup of crushed ice as a sacrifice and I am but a mere mortal who must bow to their desires." She explained whimsically. She held her mug up in tribute and bowed her head.
"I think I can join you in your ritual, then." Emma teased back. Nalah shifted, as though to stand up, but Emma waved her back down, "Chill out. You don't have to get up. The cups are over here still, yeah?"
Nalah nodded around a mouthful of ice and then requested, "Do you mind grabbing me a bag of Lardo Puffs while you're up?"
"Not a problem," Emma chimed. She scanned quickly through their pantry, but found no Batarian snacks, "excluding the fact that you don't seem to have any left."
Nalah tapped her chin with her teaspoon, "I think Geoff hides his stash from me now. Check the cupboard, leftmost drawer in the dining room. The last time that I caught him hoarding his food, he hid it under his dad's vintage Playboy mags."
Emma did as she was told, "All tits, no chips."
Nalah made a sharp sound with her tongue against her teeth and snapped, "Bastard. Sorry to put you on a treasure hunt, but now it's personal. Can you check the back hallway? He's awful lately at throwing his stuff in the hamper. Maybe he's been doing it strategically."
Without the distraction of conversation to lure her from her contemplations, Emma's thoughts drowned themselves in the memories from just a handful of hours prior.
It was so peculiar to think about how time had stuttered and stopped, collapsing in upon itself so that each moment after Jim got shot became its own individual snapshot. The first picture involved the two women jumping in surprise while the two aliens, so accustomed to the rigors of battle, brandished their weapons.
The second image was shot very much from Emma's perspective. Here, she observed the return of the crimson, quivering dot dancing between the dead center of Jim's forehead and Marianne's shoulder.
Somewhere between that second and third snapshot, Emma acted. Some would call it stupidity (Archangel, for one). Others, more generous, might have ventured to call it bravery. But, in the heat of the moment, it made sense. Archangel's earlier concussive shot knocked out Jim's shields. Her suit, supplied by Nalah, was at full-shields.
It simply made sense, therefore, for her to jump in front of the bullet.
As she reminisced, Emma rummaged through the clothing that Geoff had left scattered on the floor. Near a massive bookshelf, holding the couple's mementos and decorative heirlooms, she caught sight of a disturbance in the floor's wooden paneling. She nudged a pair of worn arm braces, gripped the corner and lifted. She was surprised to find the wooden plank significantly heavier than she had anticipated. This was due to the fact that the "plank" was not just a single length of wood, but a trap door. A trap door that led to a dingy, descending set of cement stairs that were flanked by a simple wooden railing. On the topmost stair, sat a stockpile of Lardo Puffs, All of a Spudens, and Whole-Cornios. She nabbed a bag of the requested junk (and nicked a bag for herself, in the process) before returning the door back to its resting place.
When she emerged into the living room once more, she dangled her conquests above her head, "I found them in your… uh… secret bunker?"
Nalah snorted, "Ah. Not a bunker, that's a getaway route. I thought that it was a little over the top when Geoff first got this place… but nowadays..."
She shrugged and Emma answered what was unsaid with, "You never know when you're gonna need it."
"Bingo." She pointed with her spoon, "Sorry for the goose-chase."
"It's really the very least that I could do after everything that you guys have done for me. Thanks again, by the way. For letting me stay with you guys." Emma underhand-tossed the snack to Nalah, who deftly caught it.
"Don't mention it. Consider this repaying your debt for all the hangouts you missed while you were gone." Nalah replied.
Emma snorted, but no good response came to her. They fell into a companionable silence. Having left Mordin's painkillers in the abandoned skycar, the spot on her shoulder that took the brunt of the bullet's force whined mildly. She rubbed the bruise.
The loss of shields had not hurt. Not really. However, the sensation was entirely akin to plunging straight into ice water.
The fourth and fifth snapshots blended into one another.
In the fourth, everyone had been tossed (one way or another) into the safety of the fleeing shuttle. Despite the chaos, the only one that had sustained any real damage was Jim, who laid hemorrhaging on his back. Blood had seeped through the armor and pooled in a creeping banner around his body. Someone, Emma thinks it might have been Butler, tossed her a first-aid kit. Marianne's weeping, though only inches away from Emma's ear, sounded as though it was ten-thousand leagues under the sea.
The fifth snapshot involved what Emma saw once they had removed the breastplate and Marianne was able to get a good omni-tool scan on him. Emma had extensive experience with gunshot wounds (a statistic that greatly increased following the decision to move to Omega), but it went without a shadow of a doubt that this case took the cake. The entrance wound had a cleanly-defined, in-beveled hole. The exit hole, if it could even be called a hole, left a vast, gaping cavity. Schooling had introduced her to the concept of bullets that were produced with the sole purpose of expanding inside whatever they impacted. But this… this ballooned and ripped the vital structures up as if they were made of paper. Even if she had been back on the Citadel with a fully equipped staff, she would not have been able to save him.
The penultimate scene had Emma lowering him back down. If his eyes had been open, she would have found the courage to make contact. She ignored the blurry, repeating, beseeching cries of, "Do something!" that tore through her left ear. She placed her blood-slicked hand on his forehead.
"Don't you worry," she whispered to him. Here, only her voice sounded real, "I'm going to get them off this rock. They'll be okay. You rest easy now."
"Emma? Emma. Hey, come back to me now." Nalah was clapping her hands to get Emma's attention. Emma shook herself out of her reveries and faked a reassuring smile. When it did not land, she shrugged apologetically. Nalah reached for her hand and she let her. "I know you don't believe me, but there–"
"I know, there wasn't anything else that I could have done for him." Emma felt instantly guilty for cutting Nalah off. The words had slipped out before she could curb her tongue.
"I know that it's easier said than done, but you need to stop beating yourself up over this. It wasn't you behind the gun. It wasn't you that pulled the trigger."
"I know, but–"
Nalah immediately cut Emma off once the 'but' started rolling in, "No 'buts'. Who knows what would have happened to his wife or those kids if you hadn't arranged those ships to take them off-world. Listen, in a couple of days, they're all going to be on Benning– far, far away from all of this. The boys should be done escorting them and their stuff to the docking bay really soon. Judging from what that guy said in the alley, you saved their lives by arranging all of their tickets."
"I should be with them– with Geoff and Archangel and Sidonis– helping the family get on their transport safely. I feel useless. I'm sitting on my hands here." Emma admitted.
"Babe, you were covered head-to-toe in his blood. It wouldn't have been right to let the kids see you like that. If anyone was going to get the spare pair of clothes, it had to be her." Nalah gently reminded her.
Emma stared into her mug and slowly acquiesced, "You're right. I'm not thinking straight."
"Plus, we needed you on body disposal duty." Nalah continued. When Emma did not respond again, Nalah shook Emma's arm, "What's on your mind?"
Emma made an unsure gesture, "I should be used to it by now and I feel silly that I'm not… but, it could have been any of us. It could have been: Any. Single. One. Of us. We've had so many near misses. When will our timer be up?"
"It wasn't though. Which means we have to lick our wounds and keep going. The bad guys are never going to stop, so neither can we. It's only a matter of time before we get to the bottom of things."
Without warning, Nalah's words conjured up the final interaction before the shuttle's group had parted ways for their respective tasks.
The lack of any emerging events of substance permitted time to once again resume a rate that almost had the semblance of normalcy. Her anxious puffing steadied out to even breaths and the underwater whooshing, which had previously isolated her from her surroundings, gave way to the ambient noise of the shuttle. She could not recall when, but at some point, she had unfastened the majority of her constricting gear and sat with Marianne beside the body. Marianne grieved and Emma felt helpless to provide any comfort other than soothing circles on Marianne's back. The rest of the shuttle, even the young krogan, understood that now was not the time for idle chatter. As they continued towards safety, everyone pretended to not be watching the two gore-drenched women in the dead center of the shuttle.
Emma, eventually, broke the silence, "Marianne."
Marianne refused to tear her gaze away from her husband.
She decided that the best way to get the information that she needed was to just dive right in, "Hey. Where are your children?"
This caught her attention.
"My children?"
"Yeah. I think that it's important that we get you and your kids somewhere safe as soon as possible." Emma answered. She debated adding, 'it is what he would have wanted'.
Marianne's dishwater blonde hair whipped her skin violently as her face swung toward Emma, "They– You don't think that they would come after us, do you? We don't have anything to do with anything! Me and them kids are innocent!"
Marianne, on her knees, swiveled about– cross-referencing the remaining passengers' expressions. If she had anticipated anyone to object to Emma's implication, she was sorely mistaken. Her will crumbled under the weight of the revelation and she began to shudder. In a broken voice, she gave Nalah the coordinates to her mother's house, where she and Jim had last dropped off the children. Afterwards, she dropped back onto her hands and cupped her husband's slack face with heart-wrenching sobs.
"What are we going to do without Jimmy? He's dead… he's gone… I can't…"
Emma took hold of Marianne's shoulder, "Hey! Look here for just a second. Hey, look. Alright. Trust me when I tell you that I know first-hand just how hard this is. But, you're not allowed to lose it just yet. You can't. You gotta be strong for those kids. If Jimmy said that you guys have to get off-world, then you gotta do it."
"I can't. I CAN'T!" Marianne shouted between gulping breaths of air. Emma shook her and that distracted Marianne long enough for Emma to catch her attention.
"Hey, none of that now. There is absolutely no wriggle room for 'can't' here. Those assholes are still out there and you gotta keep it together until you're out of here. You can't afford to lose even a second. You can do this and you will. It's not going to be easy, but you're gonna do it, okay?" Emma said. When Marianne began shaking her head and her hyperventilating increased in tempo, Emma sandwiched the other woman's face between her hands, "You're not alone in this, okay? Don't worry about money or arranging tickets. I can take care of all that. I got the connections here that can get you off-world today. You just worry about you and your kids. Okay? You're not alone."
"I am not alone?"
Emma nodded.
"I am not alone." Marianne shuddered violently and shut her eyes. "I need to call mamma so she can get 'em ready. Can I… Do you mind if I get some privacy?"
"Of course." Emma answered. She took to her feet and edged towards the front of the shuttle. There wasn't much room left in the vehicle to actually fool anyone into giving the pretense of privacy, so Emma focused on the soothing hum of the Kodiak's engine. She used the onboard datapad for messaging her contacts and arranging an inconspicuous transport for two adult women and three children. To have a barter system arrangement on Omega certainly had its advantages. When the transportation had been assigned, Emma supported the bulk of her weight with an elbow pressed against the interior of the shuttle. Through the window, she watched the spiky spires of Omega fly past.
Butler announced his arrival with a gentle elbow to the side, "We're almost there. Just gotta take a detour around the old, abandoned eezo processing plant."
"Why's that?"
He shrugged, "We learned a few missions in that it messes with the electronics. I'm no expert. I think the runnin' theory is that someone messed up somethin' somewhere and the unrefined eezo plays havoc on the systems."
Emma answered with a single grunt. Butler nudged her again.
"Hey. What you did there: that was nice. Of course, we're gonna help out in any way that we can, too. Once they're all somewhere safe, we can kick it back at the casa and pour one out for the big guy."
This earned Butler a smile, "Cheers to that."
Archangel swiveled in the co-pilot seat and leaned in, effectively cutting off conversation. Emma and Butler instinctively followed suit, so they would not be overheard, "We might need to hold off on the celebrating for a bit."
"Why's that, Bossman?"
Archangel gestured to his omni-tool, "Because he died before the file transfer was complete. The file's entirely corrupted. We might not be able to retrieve anything from this."
"It's not good enough!" Emma's voice was louder than she had anticipated. She struck her thigh roughly with her fist. "If that had been you or Geoff or Archangel, I would have– honestly, I don't know what I would do. Probably get my ass torn up trying to tear that shooter limb from limb with my bare hands. And for what? What did we get out of his death? The data that the man died over is gone! Poof! And, to add insult to injury, we never even got to meet the contact that we were there for in the first place."
"To the best of our knowledge, you mean." Nalah interjected.
"How do you figure?"
"Well, I mean. You heard what the guy said: Everyone is in on this. He namedropped the Broker in that little speech of his. Maybe they're the ones that, you know…" She made a bursting motion with her hand pressed against her sternum.
Enma snorted humorlessly, "It feels like we're playing chess. Only, we're not the players. Just little pieces on someone's board."
"Listen. Forget the bullshit. Just focus on the end goals. Between your brother, the plague, the kidnapping and the group's betrayal, there's already too many rabbit holes. We have to just keep moving forward. Otherwise, we're all gonna drown." Nalah counseled wisely. Emma pivoted on the stool so that she could face Nalah completely. She waited until Nalah mirrored her before continuing.
"You guys should just get out of here. Don't end up like them," Emma jerked her chin towards the door, "I love you two way too much to see anything like that happening to you guys. Seriously. Go. Save yourselves before Omega swallows you."
"We wanted to tell you at a better time, but," Nalah sighed heavily and squeezed Emma's hands, "We probably will. After the whole datapad thing, I think Geoff finally realized that it will never be safe enough here for our baby. The thing is, we are not going anywhere until the mess with your brother is sorted out."
"I appreciate you guys sticking your necks out for me… but, this is my fight. I don't want to risk trading his life for yours. It isn't worth the cost." Emma admitted.
Nalah's expression turned bashful, "I wish that I could say that our intentions were so selfless. The truth is, we have a vested interest in seeing the Commander come back– if it's really possible. No point in running away to Earth if there won't be an Earth in a decade or whatever."
Emma's expression must have betrayed her lack of comprehension because Nalah continued.
"The Reapers." Nalah waited for the words to land. "We were there when Sovereign attacked the Citadel and we never believed the Council when they backtracked to blame the geth. All that destruction. All that chaos. In the most protected part of the galaxy– and that was just one of them. Your brother was interviewed after the battle and he said that there might be hundreds– thousands, even– more. If interested parties are trying to funnel resources into resurrecting the one vanguard our galaxy has to stand up to those things…. Well, we are going to do our part to make sure he comes back for our side. We aren't going to raise this baby to be a cow before the slaughter."
It hit Emma, then, like a ton of bricks. It felt like eons ago that it had happened, but she recalled the last moments with the drell at the bar. There are stirrings on the horizon and when it all hits the fan, we both know which Shepard the galaxy will be needing, yes? By that point, she was far too upset to internalize his meaning, but now? It made sense. He knew. All this time, he and whoever he worked for knew that this was about the Reapers. They were coming and whatever it was that he was hiring her out for, he wanted it to fight the Reapers. Internally, she kicked herself for having lost his business card somewhere in the Blue Suns base. She divulged the meeting to Nalah, who nodded.
"It makes sense. And that's why we can't lose our cool. As angry as I am that someone we called friend royally fucked us all over, getting your brother back is the top priority. Otherwise, some dirtbags on Omega are going to be the last of our concerns. And who knows? Maybe while we unravel things, we'll find the rat that sold us out. And when we do, I will be more than excited to blow 'em to bits with my most imaginative toy yet." Nalah stood up to refill her cup with crushed ice.
Emma braced her chin up on her upturned hand and sat in admiration, "Have I ever told you that I wished that I was even half as cool as you are?"
"Ya damn right. No one threatens my family and gets away with it." She answered. While she spoke, the front-door behind Emma opened, "I have yet to see any explosives on Omega that can even hold a candle to mine. I would also venture to say that I am probably the best shot on the whole station."
A flanged voice cleared his throat, "The second best shot. Excuse you."
An aggressive finger pointed at the turian entering her home, "Last time didn't count and you know it!"
"Because you lost?" Archangel ribbed.
Butler was in the process of abandoning his high-end gear unceremoniously into a pile near the front. With zombie-like movements, he half-heartedly shuffled towards his wife to greet her with a kiss and wave a limp 'hello' at Emma. He then, wordlessly, meandered back towards the living room, where he climbed over the back of the couch and plopped limblessly onto the cushions on the opposite side, effectively hiding him from view.
"You listen here. When I am no longer this holy vestibule that shall usher a brand new life into this universe, we are going to have a redo and then? You're going down." Nalah bit back.
"Alright. We can hold a rematch. But this time, if you lose, you better uphold your end of the bargain– no more mister nice turian." Archangel answered. He leaned his rifles against the front door and padded to the kitchen island.
The sound of fumbling, of burrowing under pillows and blankets, from the couch brought Nalah's attention back to her husband, "What's going on with that one?"
"The little one's took an immediate liking to their 'Uncle Butts', We had him keep them occupied while we waited for docking." Archangel responded again, failing to hide his amusement.
"It was chaos! So much screaming! And jumping! And… sticky little fingers." Butler called from his hiding spot beneath the blankets. Archangel stood beside Emma and perched his hip up on the countertop.
"I had Sidonis watch the house. He reported seeing unaffiliated mercs storm it, so we figured that it would be best if we followed Emma's advice and avoided telling the kids anything. We couldn't risk getting caught." Archangel explained.
"And?" Emma pressed eagerly.
"It all went off without a hitch. They're all safe and on their way to Benning. I hear Joughin has beautiful foliage at this time." Archangel assured her.
Tension dissolved in her shoulders and she gave him a triumphant smile. She checked over her shoulder at Butler, "Still amped to pour one out for the fella?"
Butler pulled himself up, fully cocooned in the white, knitted throw blanket, "Hell, no! Don't you see the time? This here? This is sleepy time. Normal humans should be asleep right now!"
Butler flopped back down and out of sight as Archangel said, "That's implying either of these two are normal."
"Hey, screw you! You're also awake." Nalah retorted.
"I'm a turian. Our sleep cycles are different."
Nalah nudged Emma across the island with her mug, "That true? Is he messing with us?"
Emma held her hands up in surrender, "I don't kiss and tell."
Nalah sauntered over to Archangel and bumped him with her hip, "Kiss, huh?"
When Archangel coughed nervously, Nalah's eyes widened with villainous mirth and she put her cup down. In order to goad a response out of him, she shook his shoulders.
"Kiss, huh?"
"I'm beginning to understand why your husband always complains when you two are together. I miss when you were shy."
Nalah laughed and slapped him on the back, "I love watching them squirm."
"If you're about done. We come bearing more news." Archangel interrupted. Nalah paused. "I managed to piece together some of the fragments of the file that the guy tried sending us. It's not much, but I recovered what seems to be footage from a security camera. Not sure where or from when, but it's something."
Nalah gave Emma a knowing glance over Archangel's arm as he rolled the footage up on his omni-tool. Without any preamble, he played the recovered data. He was right. It wasn't much. No one would know how much Jim had initially intended to send or what it even meant without him to provide context, but it was their first, tangible clue.
"So… How many figures did we catch?" Archangel asked, once the video was over. While he spoke, he allowed the video to play on repeat.
"Five… I think." Emma piped.
"Yep. I counted five, too." Nalah affirmed.
From the couch, Butler confirmed his findings by holding up his hand.
"Alright, so we're all in agreement that wherever this is, we definitely have five different people coming and going at various points, right?" Archangel continued. He rewound the footage to the beginning and pointed at a lone figure, "This one here, I'm pretty certain that this is an asari."
"I would agree to that." Nalah said. Emma hummed her consensus.
"Alright… then, we have…" He stopped the footage again on the second figure, "this one. I'm guessing either human or drell. There's some exposed skin between the armor, but the video's quality was too corrupted for me to see the skin color."
Nalah tilted her head from side to side, but Emma leapt across and pointed at the gloves, "No. That is definitely drell. Look at the glove patterning here when the drell holds its pistol. Human hands don't fuse together like that." Archangel hummed a please note before pressing onward.
"This one is easy. Definitely human. The long, black hair is a dead giveaway. Not smart enough to have the good sense to hide their face, unlike the other two. But, they knew the layout enough to not get their mug caught by the camera– this one, at least." Archangel continued. "I'm having some trouble picking up the gender, what do you guys think?"
The skin on Emma's nose crinkled, "Yeah, that one is hard to catch. It could be an averaged-sized guy… or, a taller woman. The fact that the camera quality is so bad makes it really hard to tell."
"I'll tell you one thing," Nalah interjected, "This one is definitely the Cerberus connection that the guy was harping on about."
"How do you know?" Archangel asked.
"The weapons. Let's just say that I've had enough of my fair share of time on the business end of some of their toys to know. This person is Cerberus, for sure." Nalah explained. As she did not appear willing to offer more information, Archangel reluctantly fast-forwarded to the next figure.
"Well, if we're going based off of the backgrounds that he laid out, this one is probably the Hegemony connection he was referring to." He stopped the footage on a batarian. Contrasted with the other figures, this one appeared to be the most comfortable in whatever location the security footage was obtained. The batarian strode in with confident strides and picked up a small box before waltzing out of frame.
"Which brings us to our last contestant." Nalah segued.
"The turian." Emma concurred. "What can you tell us about him?"
"It's difficult. The fringe shows that it's a he. But, since his back is to us the entire time, I can't make out any colony markings that might identify him. Look at his armor here. Looks charred. And, check how he has a limp on that left leg. I'm thinking that he took some damage recently."
"What do you think it means for this?" Emma asked.
"I think it means that we should look at it with fresh brains in the morning. I need some shut eye." Nalah interrupted. She made a beeline for the couch and roused Butler in order to cart him off to bed. "I think Geoff is stealing your bed. Do you want me to get fresh blankets?"
Emma waved her off, "I'm good. I'm awake for the time being."
"Mind if I steal your ward for a bit?" Archangel asked.
Nalah ushered Geoff into the bedroom, over the piles of abandoned clothes that Emma had sifted through earlier, "Fine by me. But only if Emma agrees to tell me about every steamy detail regarding that kiss."
Emma groaned in despair. Nalah was smart enough to make her getaway before anyone could retaliate, meaning Emma was left to follow Archangel out of the apartment. Before locking the door, he made sure to retrieve his weapons. She had been surprised to find that he wanted time alone with her like this. It felt… more intimate than he normally permitted.
He pressed the unlock button for the stairwell and gestured for her to enter. As they ascended the building's stairwell, he spoke up, "Today was a lot. Mordin mentioned to me that insomnia can happen to humans when they've gone through what you've been through. How are you holding up?"
"Well, since I wound up in that pub all that time ago… it's been…"
"Unending?" He offered.
"Unending? Yeah, that's a good word. It's been unending. And, it's looking like it's going to keep up like that for a good while."
Archangel paused on the floor above's landing, "Well, do you want to talk about it?"
"Not really. I had my little emo moment with Nalah before you guys arrived. I think that I got it all out. Plus, I had to go through more or less pretty much everything when I called Aria after the group separated." Emma responded. She motioned for them to continue upward.
"How did that go?" There was a concerned note in his tone.
"Don't sweat it. Aria thinks everyone is dumber than her, so she didn't question it when I said I couldn't figure out who had come to my rescue. Either way, she wants me back in the trenches with Mordin tomorrow– to deal with the plague. You should have seen Nalah's face when she overheard that part."
"She's really not giving you any time to recover, is she?" He sounded bitter, but there was a concession there that implied that he knew Emma could not turn down Aria's demand.
"It makes sense, once you get to know her."
"I'd rather not, but go on."
"Well, she loses face the longer the plague continues. Mordin has managed to stabilize her man, but we still haven't produced a cure… I don't know. Maybe this will be good. It seems like the more we pull on one thread, the rest of this knot seems to loosen. Maybe it'll do us some good." She wagered. Though she did not ask outloud, she began to wonder where he had intended to take her. Was there a skycar waiting for them somewhere?
"I can't say that I am too happy with the idea of you going to the quarantine zone. She's had that sector locked up tight. I won't be able to get to you if things go belly up."
Emma shrugged, "I should be fine. Nalah's gonna take me to Mordin's in the morning and Aria's men will escort us in."
They were now on the roof of the building. While the structure itself was incredibly lackluster– a massive conglomeration of refuse and broken furniture, no one could dare claim that the view of the sprawling city below was lackluster. The inhabitants of Omega were too far below to be distinguished, but the cozy glow of their skycars and shops illuminated the lower portions of the surrounding buildings. At this altitude, the noise from neither the hustle and bustle nor the perpetual radio could be heard. Emma would venture as far as to say it was almost tranquil. There was, however, no shuttle. It was here that Archangel intended to end up all along.
Emma paused to study her turian, who was sifting through the detritus with the butt of his rifle. "Do you want to talk about things? I'm not the only one with a lot on my plate. Also, what are we doing up here?"
He gestured for her to join in, "Come, help me look for cans and bottles."
Beside him once more, she once again asked her question, "Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not really. I can't pretend to be good at things like that. My experience is mostly with violence and justice. I've never been particularly good with emotional stuff." He answered. Without gloves, she was unwilling to rifle through the trash with her bare hands. She used her shoe to kick out the homogenous trash and only used her hands once she managed to secure a bottle.
"Not good with emotions? Are you not the mama bird guiding all of her little babies into line? What you're doing isn't all that different from what my brother did when he was going after Saren. I know, I know. The media always showed him as that tough-as-nails renegade, but believe it or not, he was actually a big softie behind it all. He knew that his men's mental health was just as important to the success of a mission as their physical health."
She couldn't see Archangel's body language, but she continued anyway, "It's probably why they were all willing to die for him. For his causes. I saw that with your group. You shepard them, just like he did."
Archangel froze suddenly, "Don't say that."
Emma cocked her head, "Why?"
"I will never be able to live up to the Commander. There's no one in the whole galaxy that will ever take his place. No one." His words were infused with something she could not place.
"Oh." There was an uncertainty in how she felt towards this response. She knew her lack of any real answer was not exactly satisfactory, but her confusion led her to be too tongue-tied to come up with anything good. It was then that she found a particularly large bottle and decided to go for it. Simultaneously, Archangel had done much the same.
Their hands met: his large hand closed in over hers. She gasped, startled, and looked up at him.
"There could be no one like you, either." He told her with equal conviction.
Her breathing hitched. He took notice of this and his hand tightened around hers. The fingers of her casted hand dared to dig into the small of his waist and draw him close. Their chests bumped and he freed her hand so that he could reciprocate the action. She barely registered the sensation of his armored carapace digging into her breasts as her newly emancipated hand reached instinctively for the clasps of his helmet.
Without warning, he stood to his full height and the clasp slipped through her fingers.
She allowed her hand to fall limply to her side and failed to hide her disappointment.
He coughed nervously into his fist.
"I guess it's about time that I tell you why I brought you up here." He said, lining up their collection of cans and bottles on a ledge. "Time for your first shooting lesson."
Emma sputtered, "What?"
"Consider this my way of venting. Here, this is for you," He pulled a pistol from his hip and handed it to her butt-first. "It should be easy to hold, even with your cast. I modded it myself."
"But–But," Emma looked around hopelessly, "It's dark up here. Someone might come up! I wasn't really prepared for this."
"Good. That will make it all the better for when you need to use this in the real world." He retorted, pulling her hand up and placing the gun in her palm.
"When?" She asked, lines creasing her forehead.
"With everything that you've been going through lately? Yeah, when. Not if." He said as he continued lining discarded bottles and bent aluminum cans.
"I didn't realize that you were such an optimist." She said dryly.
"Consider it a part of my charm. I tend to expect the worst. It means I'm either right," He set the last of the bottles on the metal ledge, "or, I'm pleasantly surprised."
"What if I miss? I don't want to hurt anyone." She asked, turning the gun over.
He strode towards her and popped the chamber to reveal a line of practice rounds. He handed it back to her, "Now, show me how you would draw this if you saw someone coming at you."
She could already tell that there was no point in arguing, so she followed his orders. She tried to mimic what she remembered him doing earlier, but was immediately reprimanded.
"No, no, no, all wrong." He tutted.
"Why? What's wrong?" She asked.
"Look at your feet. You won't be able to absorb any of the shock. Not from the gun and not from any bullet that might hit you. Here, you want to load your front leg like this," He stepped so that his chest was flush against his back. The outer blade of his foot caught the inside of her shoe and kicked it forward and outward while a warm hand adjusted her hips accordingly. After finding satisfaction in her lower body, he snaked his arms over both of hers, effectively cocooning her in his embrace.
It became immediately difficult to focus on the lesson.
Mindful of her injured hand, he amended her grip on the handle, "Your fingers are quite different from mine, but you want your grip to look like this. Now. How does this feel?"
Her throat felt very suddenly dry as she answered, "Tight."
"Good." The vibration of his subharmonics buzzed through his armor and pressed into her back. She shuddered.
Did he know how he was unraveling her?
"Good, now at your height, you're going to want to have your arms about… This height." He crouched ever so slightly to align his eyes at her level. The chin of his helmet was resting on her shoulder.
He had to have known.
"You know," she began, "When you told me that you were going to teach me how to handle your rifle, I didn't actually think you meant a literal gun."
He pivoted his chin. The feigned innocence in his tone told her all she needed to know, "Proper gun etiquette is always… tantalizing. Don't you agree?"
Two could play at this game. She shook him off her shoulder, "Enough talk. Show me how to blow the load."
He snorted and stepped back. "That was pretty good. Did you just come up with that?
"No, I've been sitting on it for a while."
Archangel chuckled and smacked her lightly on the back, "Okay, you. Let's see if your hands are as good as your mouth."
Time flew by. As the minutes and bullets ticked by, she found herself eventually getting better at hitting exactly where she wanted. He encouraged her when she faltered and challenged her when she grew too comfortable.
After managing to pop a glass bottle the size of her finger, she lowered her weapon, "I think that's enough fun for the day. My hand is really aching."
He perched himself on a wooden bench overlooking the ledge and motioned for her to join him. As she slid onto the seat beside him, he popped his arm along the back where her shoulders soon rested. "I'll allow it. All in all, I'm shocked that the Commander never taught you any of this."
"That would be because John was too busy dealing Red Sand during his formative years. Which meant that most of our interactions involved me using him as a human pincushion whenever he went up against a rival gang." She mimicked sewing motions before chuckling at a memory, "The first time that he lost a fight was the day that I fell in love with medicine. God, he really got his ass handed to him . And I, I really thought of myself like one of those doctors from those dramas, you know? With all the crying? In reality, all I did was steal from the local convenience store and copy first aid vids from the extranet."
"Is it weird? Talking about him, I mean."
Emma rubbed the length of her jaw and thought about it, "Mmmm… not really. I had to keep quiet about him for so long. But, with you? It just feels… I don't know. Kinda natural."
"I suppose that's a good sign."
"Were you…?" Emma hesitated.
"Hmm?"
Emma rolled her wrist, "How do I phrase this? You said before that you crossed paths with him, yeah?"
"That I did."
"You weren't like… working for Saren or anything, right?" She inquired carefully.
"Is this because I'm a turian?"
"Oh my gosh, no! Saren's just the only bad guy that I can put a name to!"
To her relief, Archangel chuckled. "I was kidding. If you're trying to see whether you should be worried about him seeing a mortal enemy once we get him back, allow me to ease those fears. Our work together was friendly."
Emma relaxed physically and yawned, taking advantage of the situation to nestle further into the crook of his side, "That's actually a really big relief. With all these big players itching to get their hands on him, I was starting to think anything was possible."
Archangel melted against her side in response, "On the topic of bringing your brother back and introducing our relationship, I would be much obliged if you didn't mention that I almost killed you when we first met."
Sleep was rapidly descending upon the human now that she was allowed the luxury of relaxation. She gave his carapace a reassuring pat while she yawned once again. "Oh, don't worry. I was already planning on telling him that I met my boyfriend after he lured me into a dark, isolated, lonely alley with his moans."
Archangel stiffened, "That's not funny."
"Sure it is!"
"I knew you brother well enough to know that he would kill me. Even if you're joking. He would do it with his bare hands, too. Slowly."
She patted the top of his helmet in a patronizing manner, "Wait until I tell him about playing with your rifle!"