Shepard looked in the mirror sullenly, eyes concentrating on the swollen lower lip that Ryder had split a few days ago, as she ran the Alliance issued toothbrush over her teeth. An AI to fight a disease eating memories and sanity. Will it even work? She sighed as she spat the foamy paste out.
"Skipper."
She turned and saw Williams entering the bathroom. "Chief."
Both women stripped off their clothes and stood under the shower. Sounds of water and soap worked over skin bounced against the walls. The door hissed as it opened and closed. Booted feet clomped against the tiles.
"Oh shit, sorry. I didn't know you're using the showers."
Shepard glanced back and saw Alenko with his toiletries in his hands. His blush was colouring his cheeks. Before, she would have laughed and teased him. Now, everything was awkward and difficult. All the easy cool she had with him was lost after they got intimate.
Was that really it?
She thought she had approached it without expectations. Just a first experience like all other first times. The beginnings of a dream long held close, once dismissed but nevertheless cherished and nurtured. Apparently she had a mile's length of expectations. She waited for the fabled fluttering of the heart, the butterflies in her stomach, the pining or the swooning. There was none of that and it frustrated her.
Is it me? Is he not the one? What fuck is going on?
Frustration turned into anxiety and doubt that had nowhere to go. She stopped feeling comfortable. Every interaction felt fraught, everything held more meaning than she could see. His eyes followed her, watching and waiting, equally confused and conflicted albeit for different reasons. It made her feel guilty.
I shouldn't have accepted it. Love isn't going to work this way, but how the fuck was it supposed to work?
She was a born fixer. And her favoured methods of fixing came in two varieties, the violent kind and the non-violent kind. Nonetheless problems tended to fall in the face of her solutions without too much trouble as long as she put her mind to it.
But this has none. This is not something I can beat into submission. Talking is hard if I don't even know what the fuck is wrong.
Shepard's jaw tightened as she turned back to her own showering. Williams called out, "LT, it's not like we've not showered together before. Just join in, as long as you're not too shy to."
Alenko chuckled. He must have blushed brilliantly cause Williams snorted in amusement.
"I'll pass. I'll be back in a bit after you ladies are done."
The two women went back to showering, washing the suds away. Shepard slammed her palm against the button, stopping the flow of water. Tension bunched her muscles tight as water rolled off her scars ridden skin.
In the quiet of the showers, her thoughts pressed hungrily against her skull. All of them clamouring for attention, all of them without solutions. The noise they generated was unbearable. It made her long for the hell and brimstone of the battlefield. At least there her solutions were clear. Talk them out of trouble or hit them till her problems give in or give up. It might be messy, but it wasn't complicated, it wasn't this hard.
Shepard sighed.
"You all right there Skipper?"
She lifted her head to see Williams towelling off, her brown eyes filled with concern. Shepard pulled the towel over her head, hiding her face from view. "I'm fine, Chief. Just had a sleepless night."
Williams grunted. It sounded less than convinced. "Cerberus?" she asked.
Shepard groaned and nodded, head still hidden under the towel as she rubbed the fabric vigorously over her wet hair. "Baby Ryder found something. We're heading over to check it out. But first we're swinging by the Citadel for a resupply."
"Still a baby huh?"
Shepard looked up, hair sticking out every which way. "Yep, still a baby. We sparred and she looked so stricken at giving me a fat lip."
Williams chuckled and nodded. "Ok, yeah. Still a baby."
Shepard tapped her feet. Waiting always chafed at her, but it was part of the reality of being a solider. Hurry up and wait. Hurry up and wait somemore Only the reason behind the waiting changed. She braced her arms against thighs, datapad flipped end over end in her hands.
The Presidium was busy as usual. People came and went singly, in pairs or in groups. There was always a gaggle of first time visitors, usually humans, being led by a guide. The salarian guide was prattling on with the facts and numbers. She knew most of it must have gone over the visitors' heads. She had gone on one of these tours herself when she visited the Citadel the first time. Her eyes were busy devouring the sights and sounds to care about what the guide was saying.
Shepard chuckled low in her throat. It was a more innocent time. It was amazing she could to think of her time with the Reds with a sense of nostalgia. Her worries then seemed so simple now with hindsight. She had no care beyond herself then. Then when there was nothing there left for her, she shedded her past like a snake did its skin.
She jabbed her finger at her omni-tool. It was the only thing that held the remains of her life before the Alliance. I really should get this data backed up. Shepard shuddered at the thought of losing the data there. Among the many music files she had was a collection of holos, hidden under layers of mislabelled folders and documents.
The first holo flickered to life. A dog with one ear floppy, one pointed, tongue hanging out of his mouth, lips peeled back in a dog version of a smile stared back. Next to the dog was a kid, brilliantly Peridot eyes, a toothy grin, arms wrapped around the dog.
Commissioned art by Naeviss. Check out her Instagram, DeviantArt and
She smiled at the sight. "I missed you buddy," she whispered, her finger reaching out to stroke where the dog's head was, her finger passed right through the holo. "I'll do better with this group of people huh? I'm older now, stronger too."
"Shepard." A voice called out.
She stiffened and quickly dismissed the holo. It wouldn't do for others to see Commander Shepard, Hero of the Blitz, Spectre and the fucking Saviour of the Citadel, talking to a holo of a dog and a child. She looked up and found a familiar figure settling into the bench next to her.
"Sorry, The meeting went long," Anderson said.
Shepard snorted. "Which meeting don't go long?"
"Touché," he chuckled, low and gravelly. "How have your wounds healed?"
An eyebrow raised at the human Councillor, she leaned back so that she could face him. "That was more than three months ago," she pointed out. "Between Chakwas, rehab and Alliance gene mods I can't help but heal. I can get Chakwas to forward you my discharge report if you want."
"Can't an old man check in on you just to be sure?"
Shepard laughed, a sound genuine and unguarded. "You can. Anyway this isn't all casual. I've got something for you," she said as she handed him the datapad. "You remember the Janus incident?"
Anderson grimaced. "I might be a Councillor now but I do still get updates from the Alliance. No thanks to you."
"Hey, it's either you or Udina, you know who I'll pick under those circumstances."
"So I'm saddled with this job cause you wanted to spite Udina?"
"Something like that." Anderson rolled his eyes. She lifted her hands, "They shouldn't have asked if they didn't want my opinion."
He sighed, "Right to business."
He took the datapad she handed him. His eyes darted across the screen quickly. Shepard waited.
"So you got a lead?"
"I was hoping you could work a little magic?" She nodded. "Cerberus and Prothean artifacts isn't a combination I like."
"That's it?" Anderson asked, eyebrows raised expectantly.
Shepard shrugged.
"Shepard, I know you since you're a kid. I can read you like an open book," he growled, though by the twinkle in his eye she knew his heart wasn't in it.
Despite that, she suppressed an almost instinctive shudder running down her spine, praying Anderson was really reading her inner turmoil so clearly. She cleared her throat and straightened. "Frankly, the Council really needs to get ready for the Reapers. This fucked up geth mop up they got me chasing down can easily be handed over to Alenko or any other N7 officer to run. They don't need me for that. What they need me for is finding a way to stop the fucking Reapers."
Anderson frowned. "You know better than to say that out loud, right here of all places. This is still classified. It's still too dangerous to be made public."
Her mouth hung loose for a moment. Then she stood, startling a couple of tourists nearby. Shepard couldn't quite catch her breath, her torso felt hot and tight as if she had taken a concussive shot to her chest. "They got to you too. You're toeing the Council's line too. Fuck Anderson, you know how important this is. Fucking Reapers! Do you think I-"
"Shepard!"
She clamped her mouth shut, realising her anger had gotten away from her, relieved she hadn't Flared the way she used to when she was younger.
"Sit down." Anderson's voice still held the bite of command. Shepard had almost obeyed out of habit but when it came to stubbornness, nobody was more bullheaded than she was.
Jaw set, frown taking up permanent residence between her brow, Shepard obstinately remained standing. Her chest still heaving from her tirade. She schooled her features back to the photo ready, stoic Commander Shepard the public loved.
"Shepard," Anderson said, his voice gentler this time, more friend than CO. "Please."
She sank back down onto the bench, her spine still stiff and straight. "I thought you had my back on this."
"I do, I still do," Anderson pressed.
She snorted, unconvinced. Her green eyes were hard and angry as she stared at Anderson. Her life on earth had been going in one trajectory and it was all derailed when Anderson came into her life. Without him, Riley Shepard wouldn't have existed. As much as it pained her to admit it, she would remained the feral kid with a flair for fighting and biotics. She knew in her bones she would have never lived passed her teens back on Earth.
"Shepard, do you trust me?" His brown eyes steady and calm as it had always been, no matter if he was dealing with the obtuse orders from Alliance High Command or the machinations of the Council during the chase of Saren.
"Yes." The answer was plain. There was no question about this. She had and always would trust him. Anderson was the one constant in her life she hadn't managed to let down, get them killed and killed them herself.
Shepard forced her jaw to relax and spread her fingers flat against the bench. "I'm listening."
Ryder had 24 hours of shore leave while the Normandy got resupplied. Her legs took her quickly to the skycar queue. It was mercifully short. Hands faltered at the control as she almost reflexively entered her home address. Ma isn't there anymore. She curled her fingers before punching her mother's new address. The skycar purred as it zipped through the Citadel.
She rested her head against the glass window. Squeezing her eyes shut, she savoured the cool of the glass against her skin. She hadn't spoke to her mother since boarding the Normandy. But in that time, Scott and her father had decided that her mother was no longer safe to be home by herself even if it was under Astin's watch. A hospice was safer, better and probably required.
Has her health deteriorated that much?
Her mother's terminal disease had been a constant as long as she could remember. The constant ins and outs of Huerta Memorial Hospital, the countless bottles of meds on the kitchen counter or the sometimes lifespan shortening scares she had experienced was just a part of her childhood. But now when the end seemed rushing to meet them, Ryder found she wasn't ready.
She hadn't spent her life bidding her mother farewell everyday.
This is not fair!
Her face scrunched up as she felt tears threatened. A sob escaped her clenched teeth.
Get a grip. Get a fucking grip, you're a Ryder, where's your spine? Ma, don't need a slobbering mess of a daughter. She needs you strong.
Ryder straightened and schooled her features. Tightening the mask of a stoic, unfazed soldier back over her face, she exhaled. The skycar shook as it landed.
As she stepped out, nobody could tell how her guts churned, how her chest hurt, or how close the lump in her throat threatened to overwhelm her facade. A quick check with the VI got her the information she required. Before long, she stood before her mother's private little glided cage. One hand hovering over the holo-lock, she could hear voices inside.
No, not again.
She was not doing this again. Resolutely she pressed her palm against the red lock. A chime rang inside. The voices stilled and the lock flickered green. As she entered she could see her parents, her mother sitting on the bed, a pale blue shawl drawn over her shoulders, lips pressed into a thin line, thin fingers pressed tight against her own forearms; her father standing ramrod straight, lips curling in a half snarl, muscles tight in pent up tension. Whatever they were talking about had broke her father's usual cold hard mask.
You can take the man out of the uniform, but you can't take the uniform out of the man.
Her father glared at her as if she had just interrupted his call with the Council. Ryder gritted her teeth and turned to her mother. "Ma, how are you feeling?"
"Sara," her mother opened her arms and wrapped them awkwardly around her chest as she bent over the bed.
"Tell her," her father growled.
Her mother stiffened in her arms. The anger of a gentle person radiated from her frail frame. Ryder had never seen her mother this furious before.
"Alec," she hissed. "This has nothing to do with Sara."
"No, this concerns our children."
A tremor ran through her body. Ryder glanced at her father, disbelief written across her face. Am I a child of yours? His eyes flashed as it met hers, misunderstanding her expression. "Do you not care?" he demanded.
Ryder had had it. She surged to her feet and faced him. "Tell me what the fuck is going on?" she growled, directing her ire at her father.
"Your mother is refusing treatment!"
Her mother made a noise of utter fury. Ryder frowned, her eyes flashed between them. "Treatment?" she repeated carefully, looking at her mother, seeking an explanation.
"It's not treatment, Sara," her mother replied as calmly as she could. "It's merely more meds that manages my symptoms. I don't want to take it and not be present."
"But I need more time!" her father barked, his knuckles white as it clamped against the frame of the bed. It rattled from the force he was exerting.
"More time for a wild goose chase, more time for the AI," her mother spat, spittle flying. "Alec, I'm tired. I want my family to be together with me at the end. I don't want you locked in your workshop working on an impossible cure."
"This is not the end."
"Alec, please." Her voice cracked as she begged.
Ryder stifled the sob that formed in her throat. The words hovered in the brittle silence. She tightened her jaw and barely dared to move, let alone speak. It was painful to watch. She stood between her parents, her heart ached for her mother but at the same time she wished, she hoped, she prayed for a cure.
Just anything!
"Ellen…" Her father braced himself against the bed frame. "I… Just have faith in this. I swear this will work."
Her mother turned away from him. Her eyes squeezed shut. Ryder stepped closer to the bed. "I think you should go," she growled, pulling her mother against her.
His grey eyes flicked up to meet hers. Ryder flinched. As dry as his eyes were, there swarm depths of anguish. But beyond that was an unshakable belief that he would succeed. Then, it was all gone, hidden behind the fortress that was Alec Ryder. The mask was in place, the stoic soldier in place of the man who wanted his wife to live.
"Ellen, I'll be back."
With that, her father left. The silence he left in his wake was sizzling with tension. Ryder rubbed her mother's back as she pressed her face against Ryder's middle. She could feel her t-shirt getting wet. Angrily, she dashed away her own tears. I have to be strong for Ma.
"Sara," her mother said, her voice muffled. "I'm so tired."
Ryder bent over her mother, arms wrapping around the frail and thin bones. "I know. I know." Her jaw clenched so tight it ached.
Shepard planted her ass on one of the crates. Alenko and Williams along with their respective teams helped to load the supplies onto the Normandy. Dworak was showing off, stacking the hover-trolley with more crates than was sane. Arashi attempting the same with his. The others watched on laughing. Williams' eyes were wide as she made sure the others stayed out of the way of the tethering stacks.
Shepard kept a sharp eye on the lot. She didn't care if they wanted to play as long as the job got done. Regulations wasn't something she cared much for. What did it matter as long as the work got done before the deadline? Alenko blanched as Dworak's stack wobbled wildly. Arashi's face tight with concentration as he pushed his trolley.
From her perch, she could feel the press of opposing mass effect fields from Dworak and Arashi. With morbid curiosity, she wondered what would happen if she just nudge off stacks off balanced. Shepard flexed her hand and fended off the urge.
"Look out!" Dworak barked as his stack fell.
Shepard stood up and sent her biotics over. Lifting the crates enough they didn't crash onto the ground. She could feel the fields from the others, Alenko's being the one she was most familiar with. His was an intense blue, bright, steady and earnest like the man himself.
Once the crates were safely back on the ground. She shouted in her best parade commander's voice. "Dworak, Arashi, report to Pressly for latrine duty for the next ten cycles. Rest of you, use your brains. You are trained marines, not fucking mercs with two brain cells shared between all of you."
The pair looked suitably ashamed as they slung off, Alenko trailing behind. Shepard sighed, rubbing her forehead as she sank back onto the crate again. Williams barked a couple of orders and the others got back to work. She was ostensibly supposed to sign off on the paper work but her eyes were glazing over the details.
There was just a deep sense of urgency, like time was running out somehow. Her skin crawled at the best of times. She couldn't explain it. Shepard put it down to the Prothean beacon and all the other Prothean devices she was exposed to rattling something loose in her head. Visions intruded upon her sleep and she hadn't been able to sleep through the night in months.
"Commander, reporting back to the Normandy."
Shepard looked up. It was baby Ryder. She had hoped a trip back home to see her mother would help the Corporal. Baby Ryder looked at her, arm stiff in a salute but her eyes dulled and red-rimmed. Shepard recognised the look. It was a combination of a lack of sleep and too much worries. Ryder was a walking zombie held together by military discipline and nothing else.
Shepard sighed. "At ease, soldier."
Ryder let her arm go slack. It fell to her side like it was dead weight. She watched the younger woman trudged onto the ship. There was nothing more she could do for her. Ryder would pull herself together or not. Time would tell if Shepard had been wrong about her. Meanwhile, she just prayed Anderson made good on his promise.
Time was running out.