Had anyone ever asked Jane Shepard to explain herself to them, to give them a succinct summary of who she was, the first word she probably would have used was boring. She was surrounded, constantly, by amazing and terrifying things but she herself was a thoughtful introvert. She had no great talent or passion beyond combat, not a topic of polite conversation in most circles, and as a result found little to talk about with people who existed outside her world of guns, ships and battle tactics. Shore leave tend to find her cloistered with her inner thoughts or catching up on work rather than haunting clubs or taking in the local atmosphere. She was uncomfortable with other people, that was the gist of it. She had never really gotten around to learning how to be human.
Was that why it was so difficult to explain what it was that dragged her thoughts down, to the forests of Mindoir so heavily? Everything seemed so simple and clear in her own mind. There were ancient traditions that needed tending to and, she had explained to the baffled and slightly angry Garrus, she had already done most of the work four days ago. She just needed a day or so, to make things right, to put everything the way it needed to be before she could leave. She had not budged, even when he stalked off in mute disgust with her silent, stubborn stares.
No one really understood, not even those who tried their hardest. Even Tali, who had never really doubted her in anything, had come up to her quarters as she was getting ready to tell her what a terrible idea it was to go back to Mindoir alone. She had agreed, whole-heartedly, that it was not the wisest course of action but in the end had insisted she do it anyway. Doctor Chakwas and Miranda had teamed up to try and stop her when she retrieved the supplies Rupert had put together for her in the mess hall. She had been similarly stubborn and impossible to derail. She lived her entire life in service to the galaxy and its greater need. Now, for two days maximum, she was going to be selfish and stubborn and do what she did not want to do, but needed to do. She was not going to let anyone stand in her way.
So when Garrus appeared, in full armour, as she threw the last of her bundles into the back of the shuttle she put her hands on her hips and prepared herself for a fight. She was not wearing her usual heavy N7 armour, instead she had donned a Survival Suit, reinforced carbonized fibres and padding providing protection without costing any flexibility or range of movement. She stood at the top of the ramp as he stopped at the bottom and stared down at him, her dark eyes with their halo of orange light unflinching. He stared right back, not saying anything, the metallic side of his face glinting in the dull lights. A moment of silence passed between them as she fought with her fierce, usually unyielding need to be independent. Finally, she nodded once.
"Okay. But whatever happens, whatever is said, it stays between us. Entirely. Forever." She said.
"Of course, Shepard." He climbed the ramp to stand beside her. "On my honour."
She slapped him once on the shoulder and managed to smile at him through the knot of emotion twisting in her stomach. She should be proud, happy to be standing with someone at this moment, to have moved beyond her insane need to be isolated, to have someone she trusted as much as Garrus. But she was just nervous, dreading the task she was too damn stubborn to abandon. He took a seat and she scanned the cargo bay, making sure she had not forgotten anything. Her shotgun was laying on the seat, her M-6 was holstered at her side, all the bundles of food and supplies were neatly stacked and accounted for, yet still she paused, looking for that thing she was sure she had forgotten.
"I thought he'd come to, Shepard." Garrus said from his seat. She did not turn around, but knew that he had read her far more efficiently than she could even read herself. That was what she was waiting for, what kept bothering her. It had been almost three days since anyone had spoken to Thane, since anyone had seen him. She had struggled and struggled with her want to go and see him, but in the end her respect for his wishes ran deeper. The last time they had spoken she had still been rocked by her head injury, and her memories of their conversation were foggy at best. But she got the distinct impression that he did not want to see her, and his silent absence solidified that fear entirely.
Finally, she sighed and sat down across from her friend. As the shuttle pulled out she stared through the window, almost hoping that he would appear around the corner at the last minute. When he did not, she was not entirely sure how to feel.
"I gotta admit, Shepard. It seems like a weird choice on your part." Garrus admitted as she crossed her arms and drew her bottom lip between her teeth, worrying it lightly as she thought. Her eyes flickered to him, and then down to the floor. She crossed her legs and took a deep breath, considering all her possible responses.
"Because he's an assassin?" She asked, finally.
"Because he's a freelance assassin, yeah. Not your typical gun for hire, I have eyes and can see that much, but still just another guy putting bullets in people for credits." He did not sound angry, like everyone else on the ship he had come to accept the members of the crew despite any personal problems he might have with them. Even Miranda and Jack had put their simmering enmity aside after the Collector Base, recognizing the importance of what they were doing. He certainly sounded like he disapproved but there was also something darker to his tone. Almost protective. "That's not your style."
"Thane wouldn't kill just anyone for credits. He's a good man." Shepard argued. "He has more morals then a lot of sworn soldiers I've met, and while that doesn't excuse the mistakes he's made at least he's trying to do better. To atone. That takes more courage and honesty than most people have."
"Is that why you're sleeping with him? Because you respect him?" Garrus asked, giving her a disbelieving look.
"You make it sound so tawdry. 'Sleeping with him'. Are you 'sleeping with' Tali?" She asked. He shook his head fiercely, dark blue eyes sparking with sudden emotion. She cocked her head to the side. It had seemed to her that they had just started this whole thing, but the look in the turian's eyes made her think that perhaps she was not as observant as she first thought. That, or she had been too wrapped up in her own drama to notice the obvious signs. "I didn't think so. Thane and I… we have a connection. I don't know how to explain in better than that. He understands me. He accepts me, and he makes me feel..."
She uncrossed her arms and twisted her hands in her lap as she looked for the words. It had been a long time since she had talked about something as mundane as dating with anyone. If dating was really the word, which she supposed it was not. She had 'dated' in Command School, dresses and dinner, drinking and fucking, none of it had ever been as immediately intimate as what she had with Thane. Dating was fun, and sometimes it led to something deeper and became something else. They had skipped right to that something else, it seemed, and it was intimidating to try and put words on it when it was so new but so meaningful.
"I guess he just makes me feel normal. I don't have to be Commander Shepard when I'm with him and somehow, that makes it easier when I do." She laughed faintly and shook her head at her own sappiness. "I sound like I'm eighteen all over again."
"It'll do that to you." Garrus agreed, leaning back. Apparently, something she had said had satisfied him and he no longer looked so concerned.
"What will?" She asked.
He gave her a puzzled look. "You do love him don't you?"
"I-" She stopped herself before the immediate denial could fly off her lips and sighed, cupping her forehead in her hand and thinking hard. "I don't know. Maybe. It feels so soon to say something like that. We've only been doing this for like a month, we've only had sex once. Isn't there supposed to be some sort of build up to the l-word?"
He shrugged. "I guess so. But I'm no expert."
She had no response, but luckily he did not need one. They were burning into the atmosphere now, the carpet of green forest unrolling faster and faster beneath them. Soon she could see the whorls of the terraces against the mountains, and the small metallic lines of the settlement nearby. When they touched down, she relished the wash of warm, unrecycled air and threw her head back, squinting at the sun to determine how many hours of daylight they had left. Enough.
"So did you come to make yourself useful or just to play body guard?" She asked, turning around as he began to toss the supplies from the shuttle onto the ground. He paused, a tarp-wrapped bundle in each hand and stared down at her, his mandibles twitching.
"Whatever you need me to do, Shepard. I came for you." He said, before tramping down the steel ramp. She smiled at him.
"Good. You can do the heavy lifting while I go flower picking." He laughed, a deep sound in the bellows of his chest and stopped when he realized she was not joking. She flashed him a smile full of teeth and clapped him on the shoulder. "Believe me, the flowers are important."
"Important for what?" He asked, sounding suspicious. She looked down the little street, to the pile of wood she had already gathered. It was not nearly enough, despite its considerable size.
"Dressing the pyre. It's traditional for us to burn our dead." She told him, turning back and giving the ditch that served as a mass grave a meaningful look. "I can't just leave them like that, Garrus. I know they're just bones, I know that burning them won't do any good and it's just a waste of time but I-"
He put his hand on her shoulder. "You don't need to explain it to me Shepard. I understand." He said. He eyed the pile she had collected and squared his shoulders slightly. "We're going to need a lot more wood."
She nodded, relieved that she had not been forced to carry through on that conversation. She was not sure where that would have led. Nowhere she wanted to go, she suspected. Being on Mindoir was a curious mix of intense emotions and overwhelming numbness. There were certain thing she simply could not afford to feel right now. She would deal with them when she had done her duty, when the deed was done. Now, she needed to focus.
The garlands she had made were wilted beyond salvaging, but she gathered armfuls of fresh flowers and brought them down to the small house they had decided to use as shelter for the next while. By the time she had brought enough Garrus had, by virtue of his considerable strength and ability to move swiftly over steep terrain, gathered more wood than she had imagined possible. He started constructing the crude pyre, a single, long stack of wood where the bodies would have to be stacked on top of each other with kindling in between. Tradition made certain demands on her, but the needs of the many could not be pushed aside. She had to do this quick and efficient. It would have to be enough. As Garrus worked, she sat on the intact portion of a collapsing porch and made garlands, her mind wandering listlessly as she worked.
By the time dusk started colouring the sky the pyre was done, and draped with the flower garlands. Tomorrow would be the hardest part. She dreaded climbing down into that ravine, pulling the skeletons from the grip of the soil, arranging their shrivelled limbs into the postures of death. But she had come this far, and there was no backing out now. She called Garrus inside and they crouched in the main room, a fire lit on the stone hearth. Garrus dug for the dextro rations he had brought, but Shepard ignored the packs of rations that Rupert had put together for her, drinking water and taking a seat against one wall instead.
"Didn't doctor Chakwas make you swear you'd eat well while we were down here?" He asked, as he bit off a chunk of some aromatic white pastry. She nodded, crossing her legs and leaning back against the stone wall.
"She did. But fasting is part of the process, it focuses the mind and purifies the body. I can't consume anything but water until I light the pyre." She replied, closing her eyes and relaxing her shoulders away from her ears. She rotated her hips slightly, getting her spine properly aligned by force of habit more than anything else. "I told her I would eat so she wouldn't worry."
He murmured his understanding and than said nothing while he dedicated himself to eating. She let her mind wander, and then steadily go blank. The crackling of the fire, the thrum of her companions breathing, the stirring of Mindoir's nocturnal creatures all formed a white noise, cancelling each other out as she began to meditate, almost unconsciously at first and then with dedication. She had forgotten how quiet the world could be, how quiet her own brain could be, and how much of a relief it was to fill herself with that respite. When Garrus cleared his throat discreetly and her eyes fluttered open she felt as though she had woken from a peaceful sleep, even though it could not have been longer than fifteen minutes. It was strange how easily it came back to her here, when it had always seemed impossible anywhere else.
"I looked up karma, you know. After doctor Chakwas said you were okay, and I'd taken a shower." He said as she fixed her eyes on him. She cocked an eyebrow at him in mute question and he laughed lightly. "I guess I should have figured you wouldn't remember. When we were trying to keep you awake during our run back to the shuttle you said that you had come to Mindoir because it was your karma."
She tried to laugh it off, uncrossing her legs and folding them against her chest, but she could see he was not buying it. After a moment, she sighed. "So you looked it up. What did you think?"
"I found it strange. Most turians don't believe in reincarnation." He replied, using the cautious voice most people used when they spoke about religion. It was a sensitive topic, even among the best of friends.
"Neither do most humans. Karma isn't just about reincarnation though, it has a broader everyday definition. The most miniscule good and bad decisions you make can have enormous consequences through happenings so complex and inter-connected it cannot be fathomed. Or so the logic goes." She shrugged.
"So you actually believe it? That you were meant to be here?" He asked, looking around the dark, decaying room. Tacks in the wall held the last tattered strips of what had once been painted murals and drawings. The rusted wash buckets and dust piles were the only furniture here, the table and any piece of unrotted wood had been salvaged to build the pyre. "You always said you weren't religious."
"I'm not." Shepard insisted. "I can't be. Look, there are a hundred thousand million planets in this galaxy at least, and of all the planets these pirates could have been on, it was Mindoir. And of all the places they could have set up base, they set up here. Of all the batarians I could have encountered and enraged, I got one whose brother I murdered on Torfan. Coincidence only explains so much. And karma is the explanation that makes the most sense to me. It's nice to believe that there's pattern to the universe, even if that pattern is as simplistic as 'what goes around, comes around'. It gives me peace of mind."
Garrus was quiet for a moment, deep in thought if the slight vibration of his mandibles and the heavy look of concentration in his dark eyes was any indication. After a moment he nodded slowly. "Never an atheist in a fox hole?" He asked.
"I'm still an atheist. I don't believe in a god that has all the answers." She looked away, unable to meet his eyes as memories of the cold loneliness of death loomed in the small room. "It was too dark, and too silent when… when it happened. Just because the Bhagavad was written by people who believed in something I don't doesn't mean I can't appreciate the lessons it has to teach or the beauty of its poetry. If we're all part of each other, if we all come from the same place in the beginning and go to the same place in the end, than maybe, just maybe I have a chance at doing all I need to do, at unifying us all before the Reapers get here. I want to believe that I have that chance. Mostly, I want to believe that there's something meaningful in all this pain and suffering, in living and dying and killing. You would think that death would have cleared some of these questions up for me, but hell, it really just made them worse." She laughed at herself but he was shaking his head.
"If you value all life though, how can you be a soldier? How can you take life and love it at the same time?" He asked.
"Because it needs to be done. The most difficult thing you can possibly do is acknowledge the value of the lives you're taking, but it's an important step to becoming a complete person. It's tempting to label your opponents as mercs and slaver scum or some other colour of galactic garbage. It's tempting to feel justified in taking the lives of those who deserve to die. But that kind of thinking leads down a dark path that ends with nothing good for anyone. Thinking that way… it leads to things like Torfan."
She paused, her mind filled with the hellish smells and sounds of that place for a moment. It had been years, almost a decade, since she had fought her way through the bowels of that purple moon but thinking back on it still sent chills through her spine. Not because of what she had seen, but because of what she had felt, what she had become. "Thinking the way I do now has kept me away from that, has helped me keep the people I love away from that."
She looked back at him, focusing her dark eyes on his face. The unspoken name hovered between them in the still air and he met her glowing orange eyes with a tremor of anger stiffening his talons. They had moved past it, far enough past it, before going through the Omega-3 relay, but the thought of Sidonis still brought a disturbing darkness to Garrus' face. A darkness she recognized from her own mirror.
"Is that why you didn't let me kill him? Because you were worried about my karma?" He asked, his voice less sympathetic and understanding than it had been moments ago. She just shrugged helplessly and nodded.
"Sidonis was a traitor. He deserved to die." She said. "But you didn't deserve to kill him Garrus. That was what it was really about, wasn't it? You wanted to kill him because he deceived and manipulated you as much as because of what he did to your men."
He looked like he wanted to deny it, but he could not find any words. After a moment he ducked his head and they both knew she was right. After a moment he finally managed to speak, a rasp of charged emotion. "I wanted to kill him so bad, Shepard. I still do. If it had been anyone else standing between me and him…" He stopped himself.
"Do you wish I had stepped out of the way though? Do you really not realize the sort of darkness you invite in when you kill for revenge like that?" She asked.
"Of course I do." He snapped. "I know what you did was right, that the moral choice was to let him go. But it's hard to pitch all my faith on the idea that the obscure happenings of the universe will strike him down for what he did eventually."
"That's not the way karma works." She replied. "Cause and effect doesn't necessarily mean he'll die painfully because he caused death. It just means that eventually, in one way or another, he'll have to face the consequences of what he did. But maybe, just maybe, he can make something good out of his regret, out of his second chance. You saw what he was like. He was already paying for what he did Garrus, paying with his life. It wasn't worth losing yourself just to punish him."
"I know that. In my head. Down here," he tapped his chest over where the turian heart was supposed to be, "it's not so simple to let go."
"I know." She said simply. "But you don't let it stop you. I'm so proud of you Garrus, of what you've become. I think you should know that."
There was silence again, heavy with dark thoughts and emotions. When he looked back up at her his eyes were inscrutable, his face unreadable. But he nodded, only slightly, and got up to throw the packaging his rations had come in onto the fire. "Thanks, Shepard." He said.
They did not speak again, and soon he retreated to his blankets and laid down to sleep. Shepard stayed up, watching the fire and let him sleep through the night. Even if she had wanted to keep watch in shifts, she knew she could not sleep. Not here. As much as she had come to terms with things here, she knew it would never be the same. What had happened here could never be fully made peace with, she would never again feel comfortable enough to close her eyes and surrender her consciousness to the terrors of the ghosts that haunted these houses. When dawn began to peak, she stirred him from his slumber and left him to eat breakfast as she gathered up the white cotton sheets she had taken from the laundry on the Normandy. They would have to get more when they docked, but white wrappings were as important as the flowers for all they represented. She carried them up to the hill above the ravine and squared her shoulders. Pre-combat had never been this nerve wracking, not even on the long flight to Ilos or the Collector base, but she went to the same still, numb place inside her that she had gone to then. It made it easier to descend the slippery slope, her boots slipping and skidding over loose stones and damp gravel. When she reached the first of the skeletons she had to take a deep, centering breath. Then, she got to work.
It could have been worse. Much worse. The elements had rotted away the flesh, leaving nothing but withered sinew and naked bone. She brushed the dirt off the first skeleton, arranging the limbs as best she could over the chest. Then she wrapped it in a sheet and tied the bundle securely closed to keep the skeleton from shifting when it was carried down to the pyre. By the time Garrus arrived, she could not tell how much later since time seemed to have stopped while she worked, he said nothing at the sight of the small pile of lovingly shrouded corpses she had piled. He lifted the first of them into his arms with a gentle respect she deeply appreciated and began carrying them toward the pyre. They went on like that, not speaking, through three hundred and twenty six skeletons, needing to go back and unwrap the bodies so the sheets could be reused. The sun was at its peak overhead when, sweating heavily, they hoisted the last shrivelled body into position.
"Do you want me to stay while you..?" Garrus asked, as she wiped her sweating face with the back of her hand. She shook her head no, putting a hand on his shoulder.
"It's tradition for only the family to prepare the bodies and go through the funeral rites. I'm the closest that exists for any of these people, and while I appreciate the help with getting them prepared… for this… I should respect what they would have wanted.." He nodded his understanding, and she went to wash herself with some of the water they had brought in their provisions. She had none of the scented, cleansing oils of her childhood, but she dressed herself in a clean change of clothes she had brought and lit a hastily constructed torch from the embers burning on the hearth. Garrus was packing up their remaining supplies and she met his eyes briefly before she strode through the doors to the wood and bones piled beneath the blazing summer sky.
The songs seemed pointless with only one voice and no music, but she sang them anyway, her voice halting and stalling on the heavy, archaic words at first and becoming clearer as memories surged back to the forefront. She raised the burning brand above her head as the chants ran through her, beseeching the guidance of Shiva, the calm judging hand of the lord of destruction and therefore rebirth. When the touched the flames to the first dry tinder it caught instantly and orange fire surged across the brittle wood, spreading with alarming speed. She had scraped the grass and debris away from the pile before lighting it and circled it once to make sure she had not missed anything. Finished, she sunk to her knees and looked up at the mounting inferno and the column of black smoke it was throwing into the sky.
"Should we go now?" Garrus asked, coming up beside her.
"No." She said quietly. She was not done. There was one thing she still needed to do before she could leave. "They would have wanted me to pray for them. Prayers from the living guide the dead in their return to Brahma. I'll come to the shuttle when I'm done."
He said nothing, she did not know if he nodded, if he understood, but she heard his retreating footsteps as she folded her hands in front of her and closed her eyes. Prayer was harder than song, harder than anything else about this process with her many resentments toward it and everything it represented. But she managed it eventually, the mechanics of it anyway. She opened her eyes and stared up at the pillar of smoke extending into the sky above, throwing great arcs of shadow across the earth as the words of devotion poured through her. Protect them, guide them through death, take them somewhere better. She meant every word, even if she did not believe in the great being they were supposedly directed at. She hoped that wherever they were in that vast consciousness after death, this meant something to them.
In the end though, whatever happened it meant something to her and it always would. She had come here to end things, to come to terms with what she felt and to honour the people she had loved while she lived here. When she stood, wiping the dust off her knees she knew she had accomplished that. Everything that she could do had been done. She felt purified, as she walked up the long hill to the landing pad for the last time, not glancing over her shoulder as the breeze blew hot smoke around her. The shuttle was waiting for her, Garrus already inside and typing at his omnitool.
"Eclipse has put a bounty out on your head, Shepard." He informed her. "Twenty thousand credits to whoever can bring them your body. Fifty thousand for whoever can bring you in alive." He looked up at her with the slightest touch of amusement in his dark eyes. "Tali thinks we should see how far we can push it up."
She sat down across from him, crossing her legs at the ankles and a small smile touched her lips. "Sounds like a good idea. I have a few places in mind where we could start."
He grinned at her in earnest, as the shuttle pulled away from the planet surface and they left the smear of orange fire behind them. "I'm listening." He said. "If you're going to make me your second-in-command I don't want to have anymore surprises like I got in Afterlife."
As the shuttle made its way back to the Normandy she lost herself in discussions of tactics, politics and strategy for the long-term and short-term. Encouragingly, by the time they made it to the elevator and emerged onto the crew deck almost an hour later, he was not acting like everything she said was insane. He was almost grinning as he made his way to the forward battery to change out of his armour and she watched him go before turning back to the holopad, wondering if she should go and change out of her own light Survival Suit and maybe raid the fridge. Her long fast had seemed natural on Mindoir, but now her stomach was growling loudly. Instead, she stepped out of the elevator and headed down the hallway toward life support.
"Rama?" She called into the dry, quiet air as the doors slid open. He looked up from his table as she entered, hesitating by the door and then striding with more confidence into the centre of the room. He said nothing and she felt some of that confidence falter, making her shift from foot to foot. "Are you ready to talk?"
"No." He answered finally. He looked like he had not slept much since she last saw him, his eyes hanging at an exhausted half-mast in his haggard face. "But I doubt I ever truly shall be, so I will. If you want to."
"I just want to know where I stand." She replied. "I'm sure you do to."
"Indeed." He answered. When it became apparent she would not sit he stood as well. They looked each other up and down, hands drawn behind their backs and faces unreadable. At length, she realized that she was trying to stare him down, trying to keep control in a situation where control was neither important nor reasonable. Neither one of them controlled the other, therefore neither one could expect to control this, whatever it was. As her face and posture softened his did as well, if only slightly. "I think you might have been right when you hesitated. At the start of this. Further thought seems to suggest it was a bad idea."
She felt as though she had taken a blow to the gut and retreated across the room in order to escape the weight of his gaze on her. She looked out over the drive core, down to where she could see Tali working at her station. She looked right through the young quarian, through everything. "You think so?" She asked, not trusting herself to say anything else.
"I don't think you know what you want from this." He said. He had followed her, but only a little ways, stopping behind her and not pressing any closer. She could still feel him in the air, smell the faint spice of his skin and sense his dark eyes on her. "But I don't think I can give you anything, anyway. I am not at a point in my life where I have anything to give."
"I don't want anything from you, Rama." She replied, shaking her head. "You're the one that seems to think I do."
"Perhaps." He said softly. "But you do need things, Shepard. You need to focus, you need to keep yourself on track. I don't want to distract you. I don't want to make things harder for you."
"Is that really why you're hesitating?" She asked, turning around and facing him. He met her eyes for a moment and then glanced away, stung by something he saw there. It had been so long since he had used her real name in conversation that it sounded strange to her, wounded her almost as much as his admission of doubt had in the first place. "I told you not to hesitate on my account. I can decisions for my own good without your help, Thane."
"I…" He still could not meet her eyes. "I don't know. It feels like I should stop this, before it goes to far, before I fall too deeply into it and cannot escape it."
"Escape what? What are you afraid of?" She asked, keeping her voice under control. She was trying to understand, trying her hardest, but dragging this confession out of him was taxing her strained nerves. She had just repaired a huge portion of her life, gotten things under control that had been raging unabated for years. She did not need something new cropping up now.
"You. The things you make me feel, the thoughts you inspire." He said finally. "If we keep doing what we're doing, I won't be able to stop myself from loving you. I can already feel it happening. When I thought that you might die, I realized I did not know what I would do if you did. It scares me, this uncertainty, this instability. I have looked for balance all my life, meditated and prayed to find it and clung to it in an effort to steady my hand and actions. I have tried to make things clear, simple and direct. But you…" He trailed off and his eyes finally found hers again. She could see so many things in his eyes that it was difficult to isolate one feeling, one emotion. "I just want to do what is right. For you, for me, for the galaxy."
"You think I'll make you do things that are wrong?" She asked. "You must know me better than that."
"I have no doubt you will eternally lead me toward the greatest of rights." He replied. "I don't know if I am strong enough, if I am good enough, to follow your examples though. Being awake, the emotions it entails, can lead toward great compassion. It can also lead toward great anger and cruelty when things are twisted the wrong way. It is important for me to stay spiritually pure."
They stared at each other then, without speaking. Her loose, chin length blond curls framing her round face made her look so young, even now, but the hardness in her eyes and the set of her shoulders betrayed all appearance of innocence or naïve youth as a lie. She was as hard as him, as world-weary, and as scared of everything that existed between them as he was. But she was not going to run away, when she got scared she followed through anyway. No matter what.
"I'm not going to run away from what I feel for you." She said finally, running her fingers through her hair and feeling them come away soaked with cold sweat. "But I can't force you into anything either. So is this really what you want? To end this before it even really goes anywhere? Because if you really want me to walk away, to let everything go so you can remain pure, I will."
He hesitated, torn for a long moment. "No." He answered, his hands falling from behind his back to his sides. He bowed his head. "I don't want that. But one cannot always do what one wants. Sometimes there are greater needs."
"So you need to end it?" She asked, moving closer. She stopped right in front of him, not touching him but close enough to feel the warmth of his skin radiating through the air, close enough that every inhale filled her with the spicy, alien smell of him. "You need to give up… whatever this is? This connection that exists between us?"
He looked up at her again, only briefly, his tormented eyes revealing the depths of his uncertainty to her. "I don't know." He confessed. "That is why I have lingered in here. Because I cannot force my feelings away in the name of what I think must be done. Because I cannot just let go and fade back into my battle sleep. Because I love the feeling of being alive so fiercely that it has made me selfish."
He sounded disgusted with himself, ashamed. She raised one hand and laid it gently against his cheek and felt him flinch, but he did not pull away. After a moment, he raised his own hand and placed it gently over hers, his eyes finally rising from the floor to meet hers.
"You know where I stand." She said softly. His large eyes were clear, she could see the blush of colour around his pupil that was often lost in darkness with perfect clarity. His eyes were green, but not the same vibrant reptilian hue of his scales. They were a deep, twilight green that reminded her of the faded world under Mindoir's spectacular canopy, of the scent decaying coniferous needles and damp bark. "When you figure things out… I'll be waiting. And no matter what the answer might be, you'll always have a place here."
His hand tensed over hers, gently, but she could still feel it through the padding on the back of her glove. After a moment she dropped her hand back to her side and he did the same. Neither of them spoke, and she gave him a small nod before stepping around him, heading for the door. She did not trust herself to speak, or to look back at him now. Doing what was right could sometimes be incredibly difficult.
After showering, and getting dressed she realized that she had lost her appetite. The Normandy was once more en route to a new colony, and then onward to more Eclipse lackeys to kill and people to liberate. The White Knight was back in action. Suddenly though, she did not feel as though she had accomplished anything. Sighing, she pulled off her clean clothes and collapsed onto her bed, watching the stars zip past her open window before she drifted off to sleep.