Liara

I looked at Shepard, seeing the crimson stain of blood on her hands, mixed with the violet, realizing that Miranda had not been hurt. The blood was Shepard's. However, she seemed to be all right, completely fine after a brutal killing of our enemy. We needed to be far from this place. I assumed that the Broker had cut the cameras at the Hotel Azure so that Vasir could kill us and walk away innocent…even a Spectre would be questioned for slaughtering the Hero of the Citadel.

I looked at the data on Sekat's datapad, and found that he had narrowed the Broker's location beyond a single star system. He had found the name of the planet where the Broker had his mobile base. Even the name filled me with foreboding. Hagalaz.

"We need to get to Hagalaz immediately." I said.

I began to leave the scene of the fight, to backtrack and return to the vehicle, when my body reminded me of the piece of glass that had impaled me during the explosion at Baria Frontiers. I hunched over and pressed my hand to the wound, biting my lip so that I did not make a sound. There were things that I needed to do. Information traveled quickly, and it would not be long before the Broker received word that we had killed Vasir and retrieved the information that had broken his cover.

"Liara?" Shepard asked, and I heard her footsteps coming nearer. "Liara, are you hurt?"

"A mere graze." I attempted to brush the injury off, even though I could feel that the medi-gel seal had broken again, and the wound still bled. "It is nothing that will delay us…"

"My ass." Shepard argued, coming closer, kneeling down, looking into my eyes, her silver gaze seeking permission to touch, to assess my wound, and make a command decision.

But it is no longer your decision to make, Serena. I thought, nodding before I thought it through. Her hand closed over my own, warm and strong, but not as rough as I remembered, not as callused, worn, or scarred. The hand was foreign to me, but its touch was not. Gentle to the point of near tenderness. Gentle in spite of the fact that it could take lives.

"You need medical attention." Shepard spoke, frowning at the amount of blood streaming down the plates of my armor. "We can go back to your apartment and Miranda can patch you up."

"No." I said, vehement, glaring at the Cerberus operative who had at least the decency to stand at a distance far enough to give us some privacy. "I'm not letting her touch me, Shepard. You either. We need to press forward, to Hagalaz. We'll be jumping light years, there will be time to recover then."

Shepard rose, drawing up to her full height, at which my crest fit neatly beneath her chin. "I'm assuming you need a starship, Liara." she said, and I nodded. "Fine." she continued. "We'll use the Normandy, but on the condition that you let someone with medical training check you out and clear you."

"Fine." I seethed. "I'll see you at the spaceport in three hours."

"Not a chance, T'Soni." Shepard said, but she was smiling, which both confused and calmed me. "I know you're not going to a hospital because too many questions would be asked. I'm also not going to let you go home alone in case there's more of the Broker's agents waiting to finish what Vasir started with the trying to kill you bit. I'm going with you, and so is Miranda, in case you collapse and have no choice but to let us help you."

"I am not going to collapse." I muttered as we walked through the Hotel Azure and back to where we had landed.

The skycab looked much the worse for wear. The firefight on the balcony had punched a few bullet holes in the body, but a quick diagnostic informed us that it was air-worthy. Miranda slid into the backseat with a graceful movement that I could not emulate if I tried in my current state. I all but fell into the passenger seat of the car, feeling the wound begin to scream as my armor's medical interface informed me that it was depleted.

Blood began to saturate the mesh of my armor and I realized that Shepard had made the correct decision. I did need trained help, but I would not trust a Cerberus elitist like Miranda Lawson to touch me. Not even with Shepard standing over her and supervising.

"How're you doing?" Shepard asked as the skycab lifted into the air.

I watched her, seeing a look in her eyes that I remembered. Tight restraint, controlled anger, and fierce, fierce protectiveness. That same look had haunted her gaze when I had been shot after my first away mission on Feros. She had been so gentle during my recovery, making certain that I had everything I needed…and those instincts, so strong in her when we had not been acquainted for long, were now burning in her gaze with an intensity that both warmed and terrified me.

"I'm all right." I tried to sound reassuring, but feared that I failed.

The furor of combat had washed out of my body, and every single nerve ending felt as though it were on fire. My body screamed, not just from the injury but because of the strain of running and shooting and the use of biotics. The last several hours had not been kind.

Ignoring the myriad aches and pains, I pulled up my omni-tool and called Zhira. My screen immediately flickered and Zhira's face came into view. Her amethyst eyes flared as she saw me, and I realized that I must have looked as terrible as I felt.

"Liara, what happened?" her voice crackled over the comm. "You look like shit."

"I've got the information." I told her. "We're going after the Broker soon but…but…"

"You're hurt aren't you?" I could hear the frustration in her voice, but also the strong undercurrent of worry. "How badly? Do you need a doctor?"

"I don't know yet." I admitted, sinking lower in my chair as fatigue dragged me down. "But…can you come to the apartment? I need…" it chafed at me to admit this in front of Shepard, "…I need help."

"I'll be there as soon as I can." Zhira replied and her face vanished from the screen.

Over the link, I saw her throwing together medical supplies and equipment. We had been forced to care for our agents often enough that Zhira had become well versed in turning a home into a emergency care. I knew that I could trust Zhira to care for me, as she always had.

"Are you alone? Are you safe?"

…let me allay your fears…you, my dear, are in the safest place in the galaxy. My thoughts recalled Dr. Chakwas' words from two years ago, when I had awakened for the first time in the medbay of the Normandy SR1. Under the protection of Commander Shepard. No harm will come to you here.

"I am safe." I promised her. "I'm with Shepard, and I'm safe."

"Good to know. I'll see you soon." Zhira replied, and the link went dead.

"All right." I mumbled and my eyelids fluttered closed.

"Shepard," I heard the chirp of an omni-tool accompanied by Miranda Lawson's voice, "she's fading fast."

"Is it life-threatening?" Shepard asked, and I doubted anyone but me would have heard the slight quiver in her voice.

"Not at the moment, but…"

"Then we honor her wishes." Shepard said, and I could hear the strain in her voice as she fought her instincts.

To help. To heal. To protect. Because the hand that could plunge a knife into the skull of an enemy with no remorse was the same hand that wanted nothing more than to defend the entire galaxy. The hands that had once failed to save an innocent, infant life…and thus fought to preserve every life she held precious. As atonement. As penance. As punishment.

Am I your punishment, Shepard? I wondered as I felt the call of slumber, the weight of exhaustion bearing down on my shoulders. I do not wish to be…but in some deeper part of me, if I am, I am grateful. You bear your burdens with such devotion, such care and concern and I…I have missed such a thing in my life.

"This is asinine, Shepard." Miranda argued as my body relaxed against the chair in complete surrender.

"It is and isn't, Lawson." Shepard breathed, her voice low, sultry, and tortured. "This is something I don't think you'd identify with."

"If you loved her, Shepard, you wouldn't do as she asks." Miranda hissed. "You'd take what action was necessary to save her life and make her well."

"There's a lot of shit you don't understand about the way I choose to love, Miranda." Shepard whispered. "But first and foremost is that it hurts. It hurts so much."

Yes, I thought as sleep claimed me, it does.