Author's Note: Another week, another update. Thanks as always to those who have read/faved/followed, with special thanks to those who left reviews: GriffinResult, devildoc35, Elena34, Ehpoca, lauxan, KalenCaelli & Grace Kay. Y'all rock!

Trigger warnings for abuse. This is a grim one. It gets better after this, I promise.

Meanwhile, back at Shepard's place...

"Aethyta? What's going on? What time is -"

"Nobody messes with my girl!"

"What? What the hell are you -"

"Did you mean that, Shepard?"

"Of course I did! Liara's my best friend! Is something wrong? Is she in trouble? Damn it, I knew -"

"You don't know shit, puppy. Just shut up and listen to this."

"What is it? Wait – you bugged her flat? Aethyta, she's going to -"

"If you don't shut the fuck up and listen, I'll break your damn neck and handle it myself!"

"Handle what? What the hell is … Son of a – ohmygod … goddamn it! Is this happening now? Come on, we've got to get over there!"

"Not 'we'. Just you, Shepard. And don't kill him."

"That's asking a lot, Aethyta."

"That's why you're going and not me. I know my daughter, and seeing him get turned into a puddle of drell jelly is just gonna tear her up more than she already is. Just get her away from the fucker, Shepard. That's all that matters."

"I will!"

"Feron, nothing happened!" Liara had lost track of the number of times she'd said those words in the last hour, but neither the repetition nor the truth of them had any lasting effect. As quickly as the drell's rage began to cool, it would flare again.

"But you wanted it to!" Feron paced in front of her, his agitation rising anew. "You want her! Don't try to deny it!"

"She's my best friend, Feron," Liara replied, trying to keep the fear from her voice. He was working himself back up into a fury; any second now, he would lash out at her physically, then crumble into remorse; that was the normal progression of things, but tonight it had turned into a cycle, repeating itself – was it four times or five now? And instead of dissipating, his anger seemed to be growing with each renewal. "That's all there ever has been between us and all there ever will be!" She had to convince him of that. "You wanted me to do this! You said -"

"You weren't supposed to do it!" he roared at her, snatching a piece of prothean sculpture from a table and hurling it at the wall where it shattered, fragments of stone stinging her face and neck. "I had to know, had to be sure, and you couldn't wait to whore yourself out to her!"

His agreement had indeed been the trap she had feared, and now there was no way out. "Feron, we didn't have sex! It was just a mind meld."

He stopped his pacing to glare at her. "Just a mind meld?" he demanded with scathing sarcasm. "That's more than you've given me in the last six months!"

"That's not true!" she protested. "I join our minds every time we -" She couldn't finish, couldn't bring herself to call what took place between them making love.

He stepped in close, the darkness of his eyes hot with resentment. "You think I can't tell the difference?" he asked, his voice low, deadly. "You think I'm that stupid?"

"I don't think you are -" Her words were cut off by a slap that rocked her head on her shoulders, and a second later, she tasted a metallic tang on her lips. It was the first time he'd drawn blood, but even as she stared at him in shock, all she could really feel was the desperate hope that maybe this would be enough to spend his anger, that it could be over now. Thoughts of leaving had evaporated like drops of water under the merciless glare of the Tuchanka sun. He would never let her go.

"See what you made me do?" he asked her accusingly. "Why do you provoke me like this?" He stepped in even closer, his hands coming up to frame her face, and she forced herself to be still, not flinch away from his touch. "I love you, Liara," he said softly, sadly. "I can't lose you." Before she could speak, assure him that he wouldn't lose her, his hands settled around her neck, tightening into a relentless vise. "I won't let her have you."

Feron, please! She couldn't speak, couldn't breathe as he squeezed, ignoring her hands as they struck out with growing desperation as the oxygen in her blood was depleted by her racing heart. Black spots danced in her vision, growing larger and more numerous.

Oh, Beth, I'm sorry.

"Lia!"

The hands left her throat and she collapsed to her knees, gasping for breath, her pulse thundering in her ears not quite loud enough to drown out the sounds of breaking wood and shattering glass.

She lifted her head, still sucking in gulp after gulp of precious air. Feron hung suspended against the far wall, pictures and art scattered on the floor. Before him stood Lisbeth, the biotic field holding the drell captive flowing from a single upraised hand. Dark energy swirled around the Spectre, pulsing with power; her face was a mask of white-hot fury, and the brown of her irises had been swallowed by the dilation of her pupils.

"You son of a bitch," she snarled, a slight gesture from her hand causing Feron's eyes to bulge, his open mouth working wordlessly as he struggled to breathe. "How does it feel, fucker? How … does … it … feel?" Her fingers curled slowly into a fist, and the last of Feron's air left him in a wheezing squeal.

"Beth, don't!" Liara struggled to stand, the words coming out in a ragged croak from her abused throat.

"I agreed not to kill him, Liara," Shepard replied in a tightly controlled voice without looking around. "I never said he wouldn't hurt." She cocked her head, her expression becoming intent, the dark energy pulsing faster, stronger, and Feron screamed, a high-pitched wail of agony.

"Beth, please!" She stumbled forward, putting both hands on Lisbeth's upraised arm, looking up beseechingly into a face she barely recognized. She had never seen Shepard so angry. Javik had called her this cycle's avatar of victory, but right now, she looked like nothing less than the personification of wrath. "Please, don't!"

The dark eyes shifted briefly to her, the implacable expression softening. Abruptly, she lowered her arm, and Feron fell heavily to the floor, gasping, but when he lifted his head, his eyes burned with hate.

"You think that's the worst I've felt?" he spat. "I spent two years in hell because of you! You owe me -" Another biotic wave slammed him into the wall, sending another picture frame crashing to the floor.

"What the hell's going on in here -"

"Spectre business," Shepard replied without bothering to look at the landlord peering nervously through the doorway. "Move along."

"Ah … yes. Of course, Commander," the man replied, bobbing and backing away.

Spectre business. That simple invocation meant that Beth could kill Feron, tear him apart, and face no consequences, no questions.

"Beth, don't do this!" she begged. "Not for me … please!" It was her fault he was like this it would be her fault if Shepard killed him. She couldn't bear that.

Beth gave no indication that she had heard. "You haven't even begun to see what I am capable of," she promised Feron, pushing the asari behind her as she moved to where the drell lay and hauled him roughly to his feet. "Get out right now, and if I ever see you near her again, I swear you'll wish you'd never left that chair we found you in."

She shoved him hard toward the door. He tripped over the coffee table, went sprawling, dragged himself back to his feet.

"Not another word," Beth warned him as his gaze fell on Liara. She lifted a hand, dark energy swirling at her fingertips. "Leave. Now. And don't come back."

Hate and fear fought briefly for possession of Feron's face before fear won. He shot Liara a final, resentful glare, and she felt her heart wilt at the thought of what he might say, but then he turned and staggered out of the flat without speaking, slamming the door in his wake.

Shepard stayed where she was, facing the door, head down, breathing hard and fists clenched, dark energy still eddying around her in menacing waves.

"Beth?" Liara whispered fearfully. She had never seen Shepard in such a rage before.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Shepard asked in a low voice without turning around.

Liara stared at her helplessly. "I … I couldn't," she managed, unable to articulate just how impossible the prospect had been. Fear for herself, fear for Feron, fear of Feron, shame: all of these twisting together into bonds as powerful as any shackles ever made.

"You couldn't?" The look of baffled anger that Beth shot her cut to the quick. "Christ, Lia, he was killing you! Why the hell didn't you slap a singularity on him and smear him across the wall?"

"It wasn't like that, Beth!" she protested. "It wasn't that bad -"

"Not that bad?" Shepard was getting angrier, and Liara felt her heart start to hammer. Beth lifted her head abruptly. "She's safe and he's gone," she said loudly. "Now turn off your damn receiver."

Confusion quickly gave way to comprehension, then humiliation. "My father?" she asked, remembering Aethyta's visit, the time she'd spent out of Liara's sight. She should have known, suspected.

Lisbeth nodded. "She bugged your flat, and it's a damn good thing she did. You'd be dead otherwise."

"No." Liara shook her head. "He wouldn't have killed me, he was just upset -"

"Bullshit!" Beth shouted, taking a step forward, her face suffusing with rage. "His hands were on your throat, Liara! You were blacking out and you just let him keep choking you! What in the hell -"

"Beth, please!" Liara shrank back from her friend's anger. "It was my fault, I made him angry. I always make him angry, and I just … I thought that would end it." She slid down the wall, curling into a miserable ball, feeling hot tears rolling down her face, knowing that she was disappointing Beth, just as she always disappointed Feron. She buried her face against her knees, remembering how the promise of oblivion had felt like release. She'd been so close to never feeling again. Never hurting again. "I'm sorry, Beth. I just wanted it to be over."

Long moments of silence, then a hoarse whisper: "Dear God, what has he done to you?" Liara tensed as she heard Beth joining her on the floor, but Shepard didn't touch her. "Lia? Look at me. Please?"

The words were gentle, careful, and after a moment, Liara summoned the courage to lift her head and meet Shepard's sorrowful gaze.

"I'm sorry," Beth murmured. "I'm so sorry, sweetie. I shouldn't have yelled at you, but that scared the hell out of me, seeing you like that, thinking I wasn't going to get to you in time. I don't – I don't know what he did to you -" She faltered, emotions rippling across her face, got them under control when Liara cringed. "He won't do it again, Lia. He's never going to hurt you again, and I'm not going to hurt you, either. Do you believe me?"

"Yes." The rational part of her mind was trying to assert itself, reminding her that Lisbeth had never hurt her … but that had been true of Feron once, hadn't it?

"Come here?" Beth held her arms out, but didn't move, leaving the choice to Liara. The asari hesitated, then crawled across the short distance between them. Beth hugged her close, and the gentle strength of the embrace shattered the fragile dam holding her emotions in check. She began to cry, clinging desperately to her best friend.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." She couldn't seem to say anything else, the words choked out between ragged sobs.

"It's all right," Beth whispered, rocking back and forth with her. "It's all right, Lia. He's never going to hurt you again, I swear. You're safe." A gentle kiss pressed to her forehead. "You're safe."

Safe. Liara wasn't sure any more what the word meant, but maybe it was simply the way Beth's arms around her made her feel. She snuggled closer, holding on as her tears slowly tapered off into sniffles.

"Will you let me take you out of here?" Lisbeth asked softly after a time.

"Yes." Liara looked up at her questioningly. "Where – where will I go?"

"You can stay with me," Shepard assured her. "I've got plenty of room. You can stay as long as you want."

"All – all right." The storm of emotions had passed, leaving her feeling numb, wrung out, exhausted. Thinking, choosing was beyond her, and she was more than willing to allow Beth to decide for her.

Beth helped her to her feet, followed her into the bedroom, watched as she retrieved a suitcase from the closet, laid it on the bed and began filling it with clothes. "Can I help?" she offered quietly.

"Yes," Liara replied, trying to decide what to take. The dress she had worn to the casino, but not the one that Feron had declared his favorite. The simple clothes that she wore to work in, and she'd need underwear, of course ... Too late, she realized that Shepard was headed for the dresser. "No, not that … one," her voice trailed off as Beth opened the top drawer.

Silence, heavy and dark as Beth stared into the drawer. Liara knew what she was seeing; it was where Feron kept his 'toys'.

"Tell me he didn't force you," Shepard said at last, her voice choked with emotion.

"I never told him no," Liara replied, feeling humiliation heating her cheeks, knowing not to add that saying 'no' had never been an option.

"That's not what I asked." A razor thin edge of anger was back in Shepard's voice, triggering a reflexive surge of fear in Liara.

"It didn't hurt," she said desperately, trying to head off the explosion. "Not most of the time, anyway, and Feron needed -"

The sharp crack of wood breaking under Lisbeth's grip silenced her, terror hammering a tattoo against her sternum, but when Beth turned around, her expression was gentle, her eyes anguished.

"All right," she said softly. "All right. Let's just … get you out of here."

A.N. - Seeing someone you care about caught in an abusive relationship is one of the most helpless and frustrating feelings imaginable. You want to shake them, make them see … but you can't, because they've already been broken, and that will only make it worse.

They don't need your anger.

They don't (except in a few cases) need you to kick the ass of their abuser.

They don't need your logical arguments, because logic has nothing to do with where they're at.

They need your strength while they find their own.

They need your support and patience while they explore the idea of a world that they have forgotten … or maybe never knew.

Most of all, they need your love.

Because until they realize that staying is a choice, they will never understand that leaving is a choice, as well. One within their power to make.

But some never do.