|6|
The kitchen no longer smelled of gun powder and booze…A piquant coffee aroma was brewing out of a pot on the stove. Shepard was sitting on the couch once again, glaring between the two blocking both doors. Casnar glanced worriedly at the other human who was leaning against the doorframe and shaking his head.
"You don't exist in my life for fourteen years," she was holding her knuckles together in between her knees, "….You show up and cut me off from the bar, after giving me Phedyl and taking my stash outside while I'm on my ass, pour it in the dirt….And you have no idea why I'm using it, Kaidan….I came out here—"
"To what, Braith," he gave her the same edge he'd cut at her with once she was conscious again, "…To kill your liver and brain cells with this acid you're using to dull it all?"
"Kaidan, how many times do I have to tell you it doesn't affect me—"
"Bull, Shepard."
She clasped her head between her palms….Sitting in her jeans with the sweater off and a white Broncos shirt on her frame, she peeped through her fingers at the gold one in the hallway door, "…You—you've seen me drink for the past decade or more I've been here in this fucking place."
"I have," he looked at Kaidan…The other was staring at Braith.
"So what's that prove to yourself, Shepard?"
"Nothing's changed about me," she shrugged at Kaidan.
To the drell, "…Has she been in your shop to use the CAT scanner in there?"
"I believe he's making a snarky remark about your medical history."
"Great, one has the key to my house, the other has the key to my head."
"Wait," Kaidan glanced at Casnar, "…You don't even know his name—"
"Casnar," he immediately supplied, "…It's on the receipt for the key."
"Yeah, okay," Kaidan wasn't in the least bit okay, "…Are you two—" his hand waggled a finger back and forth from each of them….Braith rubbed her forehead and Casnar shook his chin.
"Besides the point," he moved on, "…You need to come back to reality, Shep…Tomorrow we're packing this—whatever you've got that's valuable to you and we're leaving—we'll head north, there's good medicine up there, the biotics—"
"I'm not going anywhere."
"Shep, why stay here and live like this when you don't deserve—" he cut off, glancing out the window, "…This isn't where someone like you should be living."
"Someone like me," she nodded and rose from her seat, the cushions evening out—pushing up a window behind the sofa, she climbed out, one leg at a time to Casnar and Kaidan's simultaneous bemused expressions.
Outside, she stood on the tileslab of the patio and stared off into the rolling hills. The chill air at this hour was harsh and made her skin tight, her temples drawn upward and her scalp cold. She could hear them on the porch, coming out the side end and into the yard, over the pebbles, onto the dirt…She didn't turn.
"I wasn't supposed to live," she said, looking farther than the sun's reach across the dusk sky, "…I wasn't supposed to walk out of that wreckage the way I did, Kaidan. I was supposed to be dead with everyone on that station….I was supposed to be with Anderson and Thane, I was supposed to die and….I walked out of it….I don't know how or why…And it haunts me…Not just guilt, Kaidan, it's something worse, like I know there's something in me—keeping me alive."
"What do you think is keeping you alive," she turned—it wasn't Kaidan behind her, "…He went to use the bathroom…I think he needed a break."
"You want to be all talkative now," she rolled her elbows under her chest. "You could have said something before to me….Why now."
"You gave off this vibe, I would think," he grinned and it was the first she'd noticed him change to a pleasantness of expression.
"You have a sourness about you, too," she replied, nodding some in her own world of agreement….She stepped to the side and sat down in the chair by the firepit.
"I wonder if that's because until I saw you, there was no one round here I wanted to know….And all I could do for getting to understand you was to walk your crawling ass home every night since I first saw you walk into Verne's…" He was grinning as he said it, and Braith looked away—but only to hide an embarrassed smile. "Just joking," he added, rolled his lips together, a neat pleat between the dark golden pair now that it was nightfall, "…I recognized you from the vids before I ended here on Earth….I wanted to thank you, and the best way at the time and through to now, this moment of opportunity….Was to mind after you," he declared with a downturn in his gruff voice, "…I have felt it was the only way, and you have my patience for as long as you need."
Picking at a flake of paint on the wire mesh of her seat, she muttered, "…What good did I really do for someone like you to keep after me the way you do….I mean, it's been fourteen years….Since I came to Cherry Lake and lived here…You just watched….When did you not realize there's nothing to see…Just a freak who walked from a goddamn shit-tastrophe smoldering on top of London Tower…." She glanced at his direction, seeing only the feature of a yellow wrist in an overall pocket smeared with dark stain.
The door opened and the heavier footsteps came out—they were fast and angry, frustrated might have been a better way to describe the pace by which Kaidan came over to her and him.
"Maybe we should talk about this inside with some coffee," Kaidan huffed, "…I'm cold out here and this place makes my teeth tingle. Where can I pick up some food—that bar the only place that could possibly serve some decent takeout around here?"
"I have some food at my place," Casnar said, "…I'll go swing by and bring it over—don't order from Verne's, drunks make the fare and they barely know how to piss holding their own penises."
"That's…damn….A word to the wise would have been helpful," she shot him a dirty look.
"You were drinking lighter fluid," Casnar retorted, over his shoulder as he walked back towards the lane, "…What would you care their germs got into your stomach?"
"You know," Kaidan piped up, "…He was a big If at first, but now I've had a chance to talk to him, and the way he talks to you," he smiled at Braith, "…I'm starting to really like him."
"I'm undecided," she said, lifting the chair from under her to detach it from a pair and giving this to Kaidan for sitting down on, "…He was a lot cuter before he started talking just then." She went to a pile of dried wood and picked up a few cords to bring back to the firepit, watching the figure of Casnar break into an easy jog down the drive from her house….He's got a nice butt though. Looking over at Kaidan, she straightened from the pile of wood, "…We'll warm your chilly ass, Alenko…Give me a moment to get this going….In the meanwhile, how's Vancouver—I guess that's what you meant by going north?"
He laced his fingers together and watched her set the cord into the pit, taking off the mesh top and setting this on the slab, "….It's been quiet, Shep…Quiet in a good way…People are slowly coming back to my hometown in BC and all the other cities are filling again….Russians, Chinese, Salarians, Asari, Americans are all making their way in for the pleasures of the sanctuary….Not that….Sanctuary," he waved his hand to ward off the bad memory, "….Anyway, yeah, it's coming back to what I guess is as close to normal as we can hope for a decade and a half later….Thanks to you."
"Yes, well, I didn't really do it alone, Kaidan…."
"You organized a petty, squabbling, racist galaxy into one unity, Shepard."
"You know," she started pulling up a slab and revealed under its weight was a neatly carved niche containing tools for the fireplace—including a bag of long matches kept dry in a tin, "…There is one thing I can thank the Reapers for, and that's for scaring the hell out of everybody…Made my role that much easier…"
"You jest," Kaidan gave her an incredulous grin, "…You cannot claim any part of the Great War was easy, Shep."
"I mean it," stuffing a kindle bar for firestarting under the cords, she rasped one of the long-handled matches against her flint and set the fire to life, "…And I hate that they call it the Great War…Nothing about it was great….Everyone died or was turned into monsters…People still walk around picking off faces that don't recognize what they are or have no master to serve….South of here in Auropa, they have herds of husks that are under protection…Humane way they say is to let them starve out. Can't for the life of me understand why they don't just speed it up and blow them all to shit with a missile…Even lining them up in a row and shooting a bullet through their skulls would be cost-effective, ammunition-sparing, and merciful….Then there's that damn Grim Reaper bull shit…."
Kaidan sat forward in his chair, "…You know about that? How the heck do you know about that if there's no television here or anywhere in this town?"
"People come into the bar, talk, travelers from out of town….You see it's not just humans on Earth anymore, right?"
"You know, Cherry Lake is surprisingly diverse…the bartender's a salarian….And your buddy there from the auto shop's a drell….I didn't think they could be so tall…."
She smiled at his impressed puss of a face, "…You think I should ask him out?"
"I'm not going to answer that," he glared through the flames at her bent in front of him, placing the cords in a manner where the fire could breathe better, "….I was hoping not to bring this up so early….But I miss you, Shepard…I didn't come all the way out here just to say hi….I came here because you're someone I love…I care about you."
"I'm not the same person I was before I left you on the Mako with James, Kaidan," she wept a little at the memory and her eyes picked up the reflection of fire all the more through the bottoms of her lids, she holding herself with a twig in hand still smoldering from her use of it, "….I'm not even sure if I'm really human….Much less….Me."
"How you managed to survive what you did…The millions that died…Anderson…Who else….I find myself studying that in my head, Shep," his eyes followed her to the chair beside him, and her body as well as his were aglow with the warm light dancing shadows off into the gravel and dirt around their fire, "…I just try to tell myself it's a damn miracle….And….Heck….I don't know anymore, but that sometimes God just does things…or Nature, or whatever is out there screwing around with our fates, Shepard."
"Sounds like a little bit of Williams survived, too."
"Maybe we all lose something in one way, and a part of that gains to something else, Shep," Kaidan smirked dryly at the thought, "…But there you go, taking me back through the pain."
"Sorry, Kaidan, if I could go back, I would have switched places with her."
"No, no, no," he waved it off, staring into the flames, "…Ash chose her path, and she's what brought us together I'd like to think…Fits me fine to believe there's a bit of Ash still alive…."
"Yeah….Too bad she wasn't built like that city in GRS…Survived that big bomb I launched from the Citadel and some just have it lucky…" She hummed back into her chair and stretched towards the stars, turning her face some to look at Kaidan's hand curled on the arm of the chair, up to his face which had turned dark with suspicion, "….What?"
"Did you just say that city in GRS, as in the Grim Reaper System?"
"Did I say something else?"
"You can't be undercover with the service anymore," he looked angry, confused, "…What…Why would they lie to me…"
"Kaidan, I'm retired….I don't serve…Much less would they allow me what with my issues…."
"Then how did," he pressed his lips together and covered the point of his chin with two thoughtful fingers, "…What's the name of the city in Grim Reaper?"
"You know….Why are you asking me—"
"Tell me what the name is, Shep…." He started to stand, she held her hand out to make him stop.
"Oh, Jeez, Kaidan, I'll spell it out—Lothiraxl….Now what, are you going to kill me because it's not as well-classified as you thought it was?"
"You've been working for the Alliance all this time….I….How else—"
"It's not classified information, Kaidan," she stood, "…It's common knowledge the place exists!"
He stood, knocking the chair back to topple over the edge of slab, "…It definitely is not—not to here, not you, and not—"
"Did I miss something," she hissed, "…Or did you come here for some other reason, Kaidan….Mister Hearts on his sleeves of every one of his uniforms….Lothiraxl is not top secret—I know!"
"But you can't," he was stunned, holding his temple with one hand, "…You can't know if you're not working with the Alliance…what about…Cerberus wouldn't—can't get my head over this…" He stepped away from the fire, not looking at her anymore, "…Lothiraxl is classified material….Only a select number of pops have been brought to it, and the information doesn't leave….It's not like she should know…Can't…" He rambled on like so to himself while Braith sat down and stared at the fire, and eventually he turned and came back to her, grabbed the arms of her chair and wrenched them to spin her into facing him, the feet of the legs scraping the concrete, "…How did you hear about it—answer me honestly, Shep."
"I….I don't recall," she shook her head, the hair falling in her eye, he pushing it out to look at her pupils in the firelight, "…I just have seen pictures…"
"Who and where have you seen pictures…"
"I…." She honestly couldn't remember, "….I know what it looks like, I know there's people living there, the city with the singing metal streets….It survived the wipe and—" she widened her eyes as he loomed closer, "….Kaidan, you're scaring me."
"You can't know all that….Not unless you've been there." He leaned off with a push from the chair, erecting himself to turn his neck and see the drell returning from the road, "…And he claims he's been watching you get smashed and crawling home for the past fifteen years…What's the story, Shepard?" He looked from the drell to her, "…There's no way this can be known by you—What's the name of the head operator in charge of powering the city?"
"If I tell you," she whispered, staring up at him with wide gray eyes, "….Are you going to be a tiny kind of mad or a really big mad….Because I kind of notice you've got that look I know in your eyes and your hand's on your holster."
He moved his hand, "…Just say it now, Shep….I'll deal with it in my head."
Coming by the driveway, Casnar carried a bag with the words of the local market's slogan printed in ugly block characters across the sides, "…Bring your parts we make them smarts," which he tried hard to forget in that permanent etcher known for drell memory…He could see well enough the figures standing by the fire and they seemed close in talks, so instead of going there, he went inside the house and busied himself with putting together a late meal suitable for two humans, one drell, and he was hoping to impress a little—he had to confess, he was maybe a bit too excited to have had the chance to talk with her.
He had gotten in more than a look this time and a key to the house—he'd been informed, rattled her, reparteed back and left her with a smile….That was good, right….He set open the bag and took out his ingredients, then set what he could on the stove which was still burning coffee. Removing the filter with the grinds scorched to the bottom of the pot, he cursed at how forgetful humans were—from locking their windows and keys in their vehicles, basic needs for a machine to live utterly forgotten until the damn things died—the automobiles, that is, not the humans—to near burning down the kitchen with a discarded pot of coffee grinds and evaporated water atop the stove….How did they manage to survive?
The sink filled with water—he had clogged the drain with the coffee grinds, or something else was already plugged down the pipeway…Taking his sleeve up, his placed his hand over the hole and cupped and pumped water to try and loosen it up—a surge of bubbles floated passed his wrist and the water began to drain. Moving about the sparse kitchen, he found what he needed—a pan, a few plates, some package of serving utensils and culinary ware….It was survival mode for this woman and he could only compare her to his own way of living in the shop down the street. Shouldn't be too hard to impress, but now I feel bad…She's such a damn wastrel, he thought with a glance to the doorframe—through which he could see them still talking by the firepit.
It would be a while before he decided what to ask her about, so he resumed his parsing out the kitchen, fixing what he could, preparing the food, and making dinner for three while technically….It was himself looking to convince her to stay.
Kaidan grabbed the chair and threw it across the lawn, "…You're working for someone again—I don't care, Shepard, you did it again!"
"Kaidan, I swear, I'm not—"
"This drunken mess and the seizures," he pointed his finger at her chest, "…You knew I was coming—Had to of—How else did they….The bar….They told me to tell him who I was—this is all set up so perfectly and the fact there's a salarian—"
"Kaidan!" The hurt was there in his eyes…
"You did it again….Two years the first time, fifteen—fourteen this time! And you don't have the decency to tell me where you found out—I'm going to find who you're working with, Shepard…" He turned and Casnar was at the side of the house—a tall pale figure in the dark yard with no light, and he didn't make a sound. He walked around him, unwilling to say goodbye to either.
Casnar turned from the human's back that was marching into the house, slamming the door on his way off the porch after collecting his backpack, and looked at her silhouette standing hugging herself by the fire, "…I take it he's not staying for dinner."
"That did not go well," she said, walking by to stand at the start of the driveway and watch him head away from town.
"He sounded very upset….I can't imagine what you could tell him that would make him throw your patio furniture into…Your other half of the yard?"
"Well, hopefully he left those Phedyl tabs for me to take when I start feeling the damn…" Shaking her head with a harsh sigh, she set her hands on her hips and looked up at him gazing back at her, "…You cooking something?"
"It's something," he smiled quickly, "…I fixed your plumbing while you two were outside having your reunion."
She grinned with a show of teeth, "….You fixed my plumbing? Are you also a handyman?"
"I'm good but I'm not a miracleworker," he extended his arm to the porch, "…After you."
"You look nice, I see you changed out of your overalls," she went ahead of him onto the porch, light from the windows showing him in khakis and a white cotton shirt with a slim pair of loafers on his feet, "…I liked the overalls too."
"Those are for work, not relaxing," he replied, holding the door over her head and Braith ducking under his arm as they spun places—a neat little move to dance around each other without bumping or making contact through the frame, "….And I get a nice increase in tips from the female customers when they get really dirty."
"Oh, the overalls or do you mean your female clients?"
"The overalls….It doesn't," she was heading down the hall towards the end doorway he hadn't investigated yet, "…Are you going to—"
"Take a quick shower and freshen up, nighttime anyway and you're here, I might as well try to put on something not smelling of alcohol….If you hear the pipes knocking, don't be alarmed."
