The pounding in her head intensified as she fought to regain consciousness. The soldier found herself choking on dust as she drew in a deep breath, and hacked out a hoarse cough into the darkness.
"She's awake!" Ashley frowned at the warbled voice, and her eyes opened narrowly, trying to take in her surroundings. Her head was in a daze. "Keelah, we were so worried, Ashley. Are you alright?" She just groaned in response. I'm seriously sick of getting hit in the head. Ashley pushed herself up, a hand coming to rub her helmet tentatively.
"What happened?" She muttered, glancing at Tali. The quarian's hands twisted around themselves nervously. She glanced towards Garrus and the turian deftly avoided her gaze, his mandibles drooping. Liara had her face in her hands, but she could make out the tears that ran down.
That was when she remembered. She felt her breath leave her.
"No." Her voice was choked but firm as she glared back at them, enraged by the defeat evident in their postures. Please, God. No. That's not how this ends. "Call him. We all made it, he'll be fine."
Garrus' mandibles fluttered, the plates on his brows pulling down in regret. "We already tried. He's not answering our hails."
Ashley felt her chest constrict. She shook her head. "He's fine." She brought two fingers to her ear. "Shepard? Shepard, come in." She hailed him, but her only response was silence.
I'm not done with you yet!
"Ashley…" Tali's voice was filled with remorse, and a three-fingered hand reached out for her. The soldier shooed it away, her eyes climbing the walls of their little cave.
"We should try to get to him. He wasn't that far behind us." She mused, determined and unwilling to give up. She couldn't just sit here and wait. She had to try and get to him. "Have you guys tried to start digging us out?" There was a grunt behind her, and she shifted uncomfortably in the cramped space. Wrex was wedged under a large piece of rubble, stubby arms swiping at the mass in front of him. He looked comically like a lizard digging in the sand.
"We're buried pretty good." The krogan informed her simply, continuing his labor. He seemed ridiculously unperturbed by the weight pressing down on him. Ashley's heart thundered, looking for another likely spot to start digging. They had to find him. If he was hurt, or…
No. He's not getting out of this that easily.
"Normandy to ground team. I repeat, Normandy to ground team. Are you guys reading this? Come on, someone!"
"Garrus here." The turian responded to Joker's voice quickly, a talon rising to his visor.
"Holy crapping Christ, finally! You guys all okay? We've been trying to contact you for a while now. Is Shepard's comm broken or something? Tell him to answer me. I don't take rejection well." Ashley felt Garrus' eyes on her. He's okay. He's not about to go down like this. Liara let out a sob at the pilot's words, and Tali leaned over to comfort her. Ashley shot the asari a venomous glare.
"Shepard… isn't with us." Garrus answered quietly, and there was a moment of silence on the line.
"Oh…" The pilot's voice was unusually reserved, pained and lacking the sense of victory it had a moment ago. "Oh." He said again simply, his breath hitching.
"He's fine!" Ashley hissed, her blood pulsing through her. Her head ached in protest. Garrus looked away again, a small sigh slipping through his pointed teeth.
"We're stuck, Joker. In the Council Chambers." The turian continued after a moment. "We'll need someone to help dig us out." Garrus winced as he tried to move. It was the first time the soldier noticed his leg lodged at an awkward angle under a large piece of what used to be the chamber's platform.
"Yeah, okay. I'll let the rescue crews know." The pilot's muttered, resigned. "They should be there soon, they're already landing."
"Thanks, Joker." Garrus said weakly. Tali had turned away from Liara again, and looked to the turian, her posture radiating concern.
"Yeah. See you soon."
They were silent, Tali taking the opportunity to scan her omnitool over the turian's vitals. Wrex continued shoveling at the rubble, dust and bits of rock occasionally raining over her. Apparently, it wasn't in his nature to stay idle. She was half tempted to join him, but there was too little room to maneuver. Liara let out another soft sob, and Ashley rolled her eyes with an over-loud scoff. The soldier was past being polite - the asari had no right to mourn him.
He's okay. Oh, God, let him be okay.
Her prayer was desperate, her throat constricting despite her stubborn denial. She had been so angry with him, so outraged at his decision to save the Council over the Alliance ships. But now... They still defeated Saren and Sovereign, they still stopped the Reaper invasion - at least for the time being, and it all didn't matter, because all she wanted was to know he was okay. To see those bright green eyes, to feel his arms around her. To hear him make a fool of himself reciting those damn sappy poems. Her arms wrapped around her knees as she felt a prickling in her eyes.
Get a hold of yourself, Williams. He's fine.
Things had just gotten started. They had finally won, this mission was finally over. They could take a breath. They would have more to do, sure, if the Reapers were really still coming. But there might at least be a lull. She could convince him to sit down for half a second, to ease back on the constant brooding and enjoy the moment with her. Maybe he would actually take her out to that dinner he had promised her. And her throat constricted at the possibility, because what they had, it hadn't been enough. She hadn't held him enough. She hadn't kissed him enough, or ran her hands over his damn messy hair enough.
She hadn't loved him enough yet, and she hadn't told him just how much she did.
Damn it, Williams. Why didn't you just tell him?
Her arms squeezed her knees tighter, but she didn't cry. She wouldn't. Because he was going to be okay, or she would hate him forever for what she wouldn't be able to do.
The soldier was pulled out of her thoughts by a scuffling above them. "They're digging." Wrex grunted unceremoniously, still managing to remain unimpressed.
"We're in here!" She managed to keep her voice strong and lifted her gaze to the source of the noise. Soon a small light appeared above them, and the figures of several Alliance soldiers lined the widening gap.
"Sir, over here! We found them!"
Ashley grunted as she tried to straighten, her body undoubtedly bruised by being pummeled by the tower's wreckage. "We've got some injured down here." The soldiers nodded, but didn't reply, backing away from the hole as a familiar face loomed over it.
"Chief Williams. It's good to see you in one piece, soldier." Anderson's deep, reassuring voice washed over her, but his eyes didn't stay on her. He glanced around their little cave, a frown deepening on his features. "Shepard?"
"He isn't with us, got cut off when the debris hit the tower." Ashley watched the captain's face darken, his eyes grow so pained she found herself not for the first time wondering exactly how long the men had known each other. "He's fine. We just need to find him." She added stubbornly, before remembering herself. "Sir."
Anderson glanced back to the soldier, his eyes considering her. The worry was written clearly on his face, but at least it wasn't defeat. At least he seemed just as determined to find Shepard. "We'll keep looking, Williams. In the meantime, you had all better get yourselves looked at. Looks like the damn geth chewed you up and spat you out." With that, Anderson held out a hand. Ashley grasped it and was pulled up, and her heart sunk to the pit of her stomach.
What used to be the Citadel's grandest chamber was nothing but ruin.
xxxxxxxxx
"Keep it steady."
Owen held the pistol as still as he could, trying to stop his arms from trembling. He lined up the sight with the center of the can – just like his father had shown him – and squeezed. He missed.
There was a booming laugh beside him. "Ah, well, at least you hit the post this time." Owen glared up at his father, but the large man simply grinned back down at him. "You'll get it, don't you worry about that. You're too goddamn stubborn to not."
"I wonder where he gets that from." He heard his mother's lilting voice before he saw her. She rounded the corner from the house, Bryce close at her heel. The boy caught sight of his older brother and grinned, running forward. His father took back the gun and stowed it away quickly, keeping it from his copper-haired sibling's inquisitive grasp. Owen frowned.
"I don't like the implications you're trying to make there, you minx." His father gave his usual big, full-toothed grin. She just rolled her grey eyes, flicking back some of her long, dark hair over her shoulder.
"Let me try, Dad!" Bryce demanded, tugging at their father's arm.
"I don't think so, tyke. You're still below the height restriction." Bryce frowned at the denial.
"Lunch is ready, so you boys had better get in here before I find someone better to feed it to. And don't think I didn't notice you skipped your chores yesterday, Owen. That field needs to be plowed, and you are going to be the one to do it. And I'll be watching to make sure you don't sneak off to that little friend of yours again." Her voice took on that no-bullshit tone it did when one of them was in some definite trouble. Owen sighed as she disappeared back in the house, avoiding his father's critical gaze. The man clapped him on the back when he hesitated.
"You heard the woman. We'll grab some grub, and then you have work to do. I get done in time, maybe I'll even help you move some of those fucking boulders you keep trying to run over."
"Why can't we just move in town, Dad? None of the other kids have to do this shit." He groaned, but instantly regretted it as he was spun around. He took in the intense gaze on his father's bearded face and knew he was in for a lecture.
"Owen, this farm is our livelihood. It's what supports this family, what keeps us fed. Those kids might think they have it good now, but they're going to grow up thinking this fucking galaxy will just give them everything. It's easy to do, with how far we've come. But you'll know better. You'll know that in order to get things done, you have to work your ass off. You have to keep pushing. Life isn't easy, kid. Most of the time it's a bitch, and you might struggle to get by. We're raising you here because it can teach you how to get past it. There's going to be a lot of goddamned boulders in your way, Owen, but at least you'll know what to do with them."
Owen met the man's green gaze, sharp and intense, and sighed. "Really, Dad? Farming metaphor?"
His father smirked, shaking his head in exasperation. "You're a goddamn smartass, you know that?" He reached out at roughed up his son's dark hair. "Come on, let's go in before your Mom starves us out." He started towards the door, but Owen hesitated again.
"Dad?" The man looked back, a thick brow rising in question. "Thanks." He murmured simply, and was rewarded with another of his father's signature grins, before the man disappeared inside.
There was pain. Everywhere. He felt like he had been trampled by a herd of elcor, and he groaned, trying to protest the pounding in his brain and the lancing pain shooting through his ribs, his arm, his leg.
Fuck.
The sensation was driving away the warmth of the memory, and he grasped at it desperately, trying to bring them back to the forefront of his mind. Trying to stay in that place, that place where things were right, where they were alive, where there was none of the pain. But the dream ebbed away, their faces blurred once more by time, and he was left in the present. He pushed to remember exactly what he had done to get in this situation. Shepard winced as he tried to shift.
Fucking ouch.
The pressure on him was immense, crushing. He was able to maneuver enough to recognize the piece of wreckage as part of the Council's balcony. Figures. And the battle came back to him, Sovereign's possession of Saren's body, the Reaper's destruction and the debris hitting the tower. He tried to move enough to see if he could spot his team. "Ash? Garrus? Any of you there?" He heard nothing. "Well, fuck." He murmured, and winced. He was alone. But at least they had gotten out. She had gotten out. That's what mattered. He would find a way out of this…. Somehow.
He tried to move again, to pull at his left arm to get at his omnitool. He ground his teeth at the fire that shot through his limbs as his body objected. He wriggled farther, succeeding in freeing the upper part of his chest, only to have the weight on him shift and put pressure on his abdomen, and a flash went through him as a crack sounded from his arm. The breath was knocked out of him, and he gasped trying to retain it. He tried again to tug his left arm, but it was oddly numb now. Well, that's fucking great. Messaging for help would probably be a no go. He tried his right arm. If he could push the thing up just enough, he might be able to get out. The limb was mildly less painful.
It took some doing. After what seemed like an eternity of pulling, shifting, wriggling the arm free, he managed it. He sighed in relief, allowing himself a moment of triumph. Talk about getting past a fucking boulder. He smirked at the memory. He felt his pulse begin to race, the pain start to ebb away as adrenaline kicked in. He was probably in shock. Being crushed by the Citadel's seat of government would do that to a person.
He took advantage of the renewed energy to position his arm and grasp the edge of the rock, and pushed. He grunted with effort. I have got to start benching more. Slowly, minutely, it rose, and he continued pushing up as he shifted outwards, until the angle was too odd and the weight too intense. The platform crashed down on his legs, and he snarled in pain. His torso dropped back to the floor as the fire radiated through him again, his breath coming in short, labored spurts.
"Fuck." He hissed through clenched teeth, but after a moment, he started again. His good arm pulled him back. It was a pitiful crawl, and he pulled himself free slowly. He knew that walking wasn't going to be an option, but he might be able to drag himself far enough to attract attention. They were bound to send some clean-up crews. He dragged himself across the floor of the chamber, grunting and heaving, before he reached a pile of rubble.
"You've got to be fucking shitting me." He groaned loudly, and slumped back to the floor, trying to figure out a way he was going to make it past this latest hurtle.
"Captain? I think I heard something."
"Where?"
Shepard was flooded with relief at the familiar voice. He pulled himself forward again with a grunt. "Over here!" He shouted, but his voice was hoarse, strained. Its usual volume was gone.
"There. Did you here that?"
Shepard groaned, pulling himself forward again. Pain shot through him. "I'm over here, you fucking idiots!"
He heard a clambering as feet climbed the other side of the wall, and he looked up.
"Shepard! My God, son, what did you do to yourself this time?" Anderson slid down to his side, but Shepard's gaze was still on the figure still making it over the top of the pile. Ashley's warm brown eyes held him, and he felt himself relax, felt himself lull and give in to the exhaustion that flooded his body.
"Oh, thank God." Ashley's voice was a whisper next to him, but his eyes were beginning to blacken. He felt her fingers at his jaw, in his hair, gently stroking. He allowed a small smile to play on his lips.
"I knew you couldn't stay mad at me."
"Don't push it, Skipper."