Author's note: Ok so fanfiction's been doing that thing where I suddenly realise stories I'm following have updated without me getting an email again. I got quite a few reviews on the last chapter so I assume you all got notifications, but just to make sure, there should have been the wedding chapter, then two others, and now this is the third.
Thanks to everyone who's reviewed, I appreciate them all. To guest reviewer Ryan, the only person I can't PM a reply to, I'm hoping the reaper war will be over by the time Shepard's kid is old enough to start dating. I'm not sure if I'll still be writing post ME3 or not, but I am certain that not only is it possible for them to have another child post war, but that with the amount of species available for dating in the galaxy Shepard would find a way to be 'that dad' even if she had a son!
Oh and there's a new poll on my profile with a question regarding this story and an ME2 detail, if you could take a look and vote it would be appreciated. Anyway enough babble from me, on with the story! And guys? I'm sorry... I'm really, really sorry.
"Owwwww." Trish knew she shouldn't laugh at the pitiful noise her wife made. It wasn't nice to make fun of other people's pain and suffering. It was in fact mean, and something done by bullies. It was something she'd make certain her future child knew was wrong and didn't partake in. It was also exceedingly difficult not to do right now.
Her lips twitched in amusement as she struggled not to outright grin at the sight of her partner curled up in a ball, the duvet cover Nikki was hiding under filling the background of the screen and making it impossible for Trish to tell if she was calling from the med bay or the captain's cabin. She was just glad the omni-tool was on the inside of the nest so she could at least see the soldier, she didn't feel like talking to a lump of bedding.
"You alright sweetie?" Trish managed to lace the question with genuine care and concern but she wasn't overly worried, already knowing what the cause of the discomfort had been, it was the reason they'd scheduled this call in the first place after all. She was answered by another groan and a shake of the head, pouty lips and soulful eyes staring back at her through the vid screen. "I thought the egg retrieval was only supposed to cause mild cramping?"
"It is just cramping, but it still hurts." Nick whined and Trish was unable to repress a snigger. "You meanie!"
"I'm sorry. It's just... This from the woman who spends every vid call from the med bay telling me she's fine even though she broke twelve bones, or lost a toe, or a third of her blood, or is being shipped back to Arcturus for further observation. Or, and this is my absolute favourite by the way, the doctors suspect she has a head injury because she's talking saner than usual." It certainly hadn't been funny at the time, but Shepard had pulled through all those past experiences relatively intact (apart from the toe), so Trish was able to joke about them now.
"That's different! Those are battle boo boos, I have to be ok or you won't let me go out and play no more... And I'm pretty sure you hid an insult in there somewhere."
"Sorry." Trish tried to look contrite and supportive instead of giggling at the term 'battle boo boo'. Tried being the operative word. "Look on the bright side, no more daily needles."
"I was just getting used to them an' all." The commander grouched.
"If you miss them too much I can always start jabbing you with an empty needle for old times sake?"
"No thanks."
"So... How'd it go anyway?" Trish finally asked after a moment of watching Nikki wallow in deliberately exaggerated self pity. "Other than causing horrific cramping of course." Out of nowhere a grin flashed across the spectre's face.
"We got enough eggs to make a biotiball team!"
"I'm slightly worried that that's the sports team you chose for a comparison. Is there something you're not telling me?"
"What? That's just the exact number of eggs we got. I mean, Chakwas says they might not all be viable, but we'll still have enough that I can skip the injection stage if we decide to let Junior have any siblings in the future. Why? What do you think I meant?"
"Oh nothing. I was just picturing you soaking your eggs in eezo in the hopes of giving our child super powers."
"Hey! You make it sound like I'm irresponsible."
"No, never! How could I possibly accuse the commander of the prank ship Normandy of being irresponsible?"
"I can hear the sarcasm you know."
"Good." They shared a chuckle.
"So... I'm heading back to the citadel for a couple days, I doubt I'll still be there by the time you head over for that tech fair of yours, but if you want I can drop the kids off somewhere for you to pick up? Otherwise I've got no idea how long it'll be before I can make it back to Arcturus."
"Sounds like a plan. Well... the beginnings of the makings of one anyway. You're still up for vid calling me when I have the embryo transfer right?"
"Of course, nothing and no one in this galaxy can do or say anything to keep me away."
"Good, I'll hold you to that." Trish snuggled up on the couch as the conversation made its usual detour into random and bizarre territory.
...
"What's that?" Dr Chakwas suppressed a sigh at yet another question from the curious commander. Shepard had been lurking around the med bay like a mother hen all day, understandable enough Karin supposed considering her eggs were being moved today, but still highly annoying when she was trying to prepare everything for transportation. She thought she'd already explained the function of every item required in the process, but apparently not. She followed the pointing arm to the freezer she'd just opened, gaze gliding over bags of blood and tubes of various test samples to land on a completely different type of tub.
"That's ice cream."
"Well yeah I can see that, but what's it doing in your replacement parts freezer?" Chakwas gave a mental eye roll at the name before answering.
"Honestly Commander? I thought you'd put it there."
"What? Why would I do something like that?"
"It came with a note, apparently it was put there 'in case the baby Shepards got hungry'." Nikki snickered.
"Yeah that does sound like me. It wasn't though. I'd have got them something better than vanilla if it was me." Karin really did roll her eyes at that, she didn't bother replying however, instead focusing her attention on transferring the necessary vials from the freezer into the dry shipper that would be responsible for maintaining their temperature during the journey.
"You're sure that'll keep them frozen long enough right?" Shepard queried in concern.
"As long as you can make it from the docks to the clinic within eight days you should be fine." The doctor replied wearily, she'd already explained the specifications of the dry shipper and how it worked. Twice. A smirk crept over the spectre's face.
"Eight days? That's plenty of time! I was going to go to the clinic first, but I could go visit all the tourist spots, take pictures with the kids, you know something to show them when they grow up and have arms and legs and stuff."
"I wouldn't advise any detours Commander. The temperature will remain steady for eight days but the case isn't bulletproof."
"Are you trying to imply something doc?"
"You know exactly what I'm implying. I have a duty of care to all my patients, even if they technically haven't been born or even fertilized yet."
"Alright, alright. Clinic first, council chambers second, then wherever the next mission they send us on is third. Might sneak lunch in there somewhere. Happy?"
"For now."
"I swear you're worse than my wife!"
...
'Wherever the council sends us next' turned out to be the Omega Nebula. The Amada system to be precise. Nikki was a little surprised to be honest, considering how much the council had been against letting her play in the Terminus systems during the hunt for Saren.
Although compared to how lawless the place was supposed to be, it was so far turning out to be rather quiet and boring. She knew the ground team were getting antsy after four days searching with no action and had them assemble with full kit in the cargo bay for a workout. As far as she was concerned full kit training was essential, she'd heard of people who could run a marathon in sub two hours but couldn't make an eight minute mile in armour. Ten laps round the hold would serve as warm up before they moved on to combat drills.
"Brace for evasive maneuvers!" Joker's voice suddenly blared across the ship's comm system and Shepard just had time to activate her mag boots before the ship lurched to the side.
"What the hell?" Organised chaos broke out as the alarm started sounding for general quarters, service personnel racing towards their battle stations. Shepard headed for her place in the CIC, safe in the knowledge that her squad would be ready to board or repel boarders if needed. It never came to that, the call to evacuate ringing out before she even made it to her station. She changed direction with a curse. While it should have been her order to give, she trusted her crew enough to know that if an evacuation had been called it was the only option. The fact remained however that she was CO of a prototype stealth frigate. She had clear orders of what to do if the ship was lost. They couldn't afford this technology getting into enemy hands.
"Shepard!" She'd just finished authorising the final self destruct timer when Liara appeared behind her. Panic was clear in the asari's eyes, along with a silent question asking what she was doing back here.
"Distress beacon is ready to launch." The commander lied easily, knowing the bridge crew would have already taken care of the distress call and each escape pod had its own homing beacon.
"Will the Alliance get here in time?" Liara asked breathlessly.
Statistically or optimistically? Nikki thought grimly. They were in the Terminus systems, the nearest official Alliance presence was likely days away in the Traverse. Geographically speaking there was more chance of getting rescued by Aria, and the Queen of Omega didn't do anything for free. "They better. How's the evac looking?"
"Joker's still in the cockpit. He won't evacuate." Damn it Joker! "I'm not leaving you either." Dammit Liara!
"I need you to make sure the last of the crew make it onto the evac shuttles. I'll take care of Joker." She instructed as another fire broke out around them.
"Shepard?"
"That was an order T'Soni!" This is why we don't normally let civilians on our ships isn't it?
"Aye aye." The asari finally relented as the commander headed back towards the CIC. She had a pilot to manhandle and not much time to do it in.
...
Trish answered the door for her take-away delivery with a smile on her face, it morphed from genuine to polite as she caught sight of the two Alliance servicemen that were standing there in their dress blues. Neither of them appeared to be bearing noodles.
"Mrs Shepard?" She nodded automatically, it was hardly a difficult question to have to answer.
"I'm sorry the commander's not home at the moment." She informed them. It wasn't the first time service personnel had turned up at her door, but normally it was only when either Nikki or Uncle Steve were in the house.
"I know, I... Mrs Shepard, I regret to inform you that your wife, Com-"
"No." Trish firmly cut the lieutenant off in the same tone of voice she used when the dog was misbehaving. Smile instantly vanishing and face darkening as a sense of foreboding swept over her. "No, don't you dare!"
"-Commander Nicola Shepard was killed in action yesterday when her ship..." Trish didn't hear the rest of his clearly rehearsed speech. She couldn't hear anything over the rush of blood in her ears, couldn't breathe through the tightness in her chest as her heart exploded, shattering into a million tiny pieces.
"Ma'am?" She wasn't sure how long she'd stood there, gaze unseeing, before the soldier managed to break back through her awareness. In fact she wasn't sure how she was still standing at all, not when she'd felt the whole world lurching beneath her feet. "Ma'am is there a friend or neighbour-" She waved a hand vaguely in the direction of Ben's house, not needing them to finish the question. She remembered the drill. It was the same as 18 years ago when her dad died and she'd overheard them notifying her mum.
She'd burst immediately into tears back then, grief hitting hard with the knowledge she'd never see him again, but the tears weren't flowing yet tonight. She was still in shock, brain desperately refusing to believe what the ears had heard.
If she cried then it would be real. A sign of acceptance of what had happened. But maybe if she didn't. If she could stay strong. Maybe they'd realise they'd made a mistake. Tell her it wasn't her Nikki. It was someone else in N7 armour who had been attached to the Normandy. Even her brain had to admit it wasn't very likely.
Suddenly Ben was there, enveloping her in a tight hug that she was only dimly aware of through the all prevailing sense of numbness. He let the notification team know he'd got it from here but they weren't done yet.
"A Casualty Assistance Calls Officer will contact you-"
"I know." Her voice was cold and emotionless, as devoid of life as her wife's corpse, wherever the hell that was. Ben led her back into the living room, sitting her down on the couch before hovering uncertainly in front of her.
"Trish, I..." He trailed off.
"This isn't happening, it can't be." She looked up at him pleadingly.
"I'm sorry Trish. She's gone." Silent tears rolled down his face as he failed to contain his own grief for his friend. Traitor! Trish's brain screamed as his crying sealed her wife's fate.
"Don't say that!" How could he just give in? Nick had survived thresher maws and rogue spectres and all kinds of classified shit. She couldn't just be dead!
"I'm sorry Trish, I really am but-"
"No! Get out!" He tried to wrap her in another hug but she stood up, pushing him away. "Leave me alone!"
"I don't think that's a good idea Trish."
"Go away!" She screamed, thankful when he turned and left the room. The bastard didn't go far though, she could hear him in the kitchen filling up the kettle. As if a cup of tea or coffee could fix this!
She sunk to her knees on the floor, a low whine drawing her attention to Jude creeping cautiously towards her. The dog didn't know what was going on but she could feel the strong emotions flooding the room.
"Hey girl." Trish greeted her with a pat on the head as her vision blurred. "Nikki's not coming home." She broke down as her arms wrapped around the dog's neck, sobbing uncontrollably into her fur.
...
The funeral was a huge, fantastical display as humanity mourned their first spectre. As Trish watched the six armoured N7s, all with their helmets tinted to protect their anonymity, carrying the empty coffin up to the dais she couldn't help but feel like it was all a farce. She knew Anderson was one of the pallbearers and she wondered what was going through the man's head as he laid to rest his protege.
Except they weren't.
That was just the first of the problems with the whole situation. She knew a lot of soldiers killed in action never made it home, but how was she supposed to move on and accept the situation without a body to say goodbye to. And if her wife did have to remain one of the many unfound, why oh why did the body have to be lost on an ice world? Nikki had always hated cold temperatures. As far as Nick had been concerned, the only acceptable place for ice was in cubes in her drink. An active volcano would have made a far more suitable final resting place for the crazy Mindoirian.
Trish found herself smiling through her tears as she remembered a conversation with her then girlfriend about whether or not their future home planet would be too hot to live on: "I'd happily go swimming in the sun but no-one's found a way to get me back out again yet." Nikki always came out with the most random things. No matter how annoyed or angry Trish thought she was with her partner at the start of a call, she'd always end up laughing at least once before they hung up. That sense of humour was just one of the many things she had loved about her wife.
It didn't look like any of the speakers at the service were going to mention that aspect of her personality though. In fact the person they described was nothing like her Nikki at all. The Shepard they described was some mythical being, overcoming adversity and beating unsurmountable odds without ever having a moment of doubt. Oh sure, Trish knew her partner engaged in heroic actions on a regular basis, but she was so much more than the Alliance poster girl the brass were trying to paint.
Yes, she was the ultimate soldier, an N7, humanity's first spectre, but she was also a skilled mechanic, a talented cook, and an awful dancer. Her music tastes were best described as 'old' and her singing as 'enthusiastic', although it never failed to put a smile on Trish's face when the younger woman burst into song, no matter how atrociously.
Nikki had been fiercely protective of the people she cared about and stubborn to a fault. She could be harsh when her job required it, but put her in a room with children or animals and she was the kindest, gentlest person you could ever meet. She was predictable, in so many ways, and yet even after all these years Trish would still find herself surprised by the other woman.
She remained a semi-frequent contributor to a small handful of charities, making donations every year at Christmas and on her family's birthdays. She was a collector and painter of miniature models, a teetotaler with a fondness for alcohol free beer, (despite the hypocrisy of having spent years lambasting vegetarians who wanted to keep eating meat flavoured products). She often suffered nightmares and occasional doubts about her work, and in the rare instances when she fell apart Trish was there to pick up the pieces. THAT was her Nikki, and even that left so much unsaid.
It didn't even begin to cover the little eccentricities; the way she would drink the brine water when draining a can of tuna. Or ate the peel on satsumas and clementines. Or how her right index finger would rub her left eyebrow when she was nervous or embarrassed.
Before earning the coveted N7 stripe, her favourite hoody had been one that proudly claimed she was: 'cleverly disguised as an adult' and the locals back home had become used to seeing her take Jude for a morning jog in a shirt that declared: 'bomb disposal expert. If you see me running try and keep up'.
Then there was the time the stubborn woman had spent four hours on a crossword because she refused to be beaten and refused to cheat by looking the answer up on the extranet. Only to be so pissed off when she found out the puzzle makers had chosen an alternative spelling of the first word she'd thought of that she painstakingly copied the whole crossword onto paper so she could burn it with her omni-tool's new incinerate app without damaging her datapad.
Someone on the stage was talking about the commander's sense of righteousness. How Shepard hated and stood up against injustice. Trish knew all about that. It ranged from the big injustices like slavery and any kind of social discrimination, right down to the little injustices like being forced to choose just one desert when eating out at a restaurant. "It says 3 course meal. It doesn't state what those courses have to be. Why can't I just skip the starter and have two puddings?"
She had to bite back a snort when the eulogiser tried convincing the masses that her idiot was the greatest military tactician in human history. In fairness Nikki wasn't stupid, despite the frequently used term of endearment. She'd had more than an above average IQ, she had just never been interested in what they were teaching at school, not to mention she was repeatedly guilty of oversights in judgement or lapses of common sense. Besides as the soldier herself once said: "everybody's an idiot when there's a bonafide genius in the room, and when I'm with you there's always a genius in the room." She was pretty good at strategy though, Trish allowed. Family board games were always competitive with Nick normally coming out on top, but only when Uncle Steve wasn't playing.
And now they were talking about courage. Commander Shepard had had it in spades apparently, this could be seen in the way she never surrendered, always charging headlong into the fray. Nikki had courage too. Trish remembered seeing it when the soldier had finally given in and gone to the clinic to get help for the first time after Akuze.
Nick had been scared stiff less, paranoid that if anyone discovered she was talking to a shrink she'd be labeled a headcase and it would end her career. The nerves had been tangible as they sat in the waiting room, making small talk even though it was obvious Shepard wanted nothing more than to run away. She'd glanced towards the exit when her name was called, but she'd squared her shoulders, taken a deep breath and walked inside. It was those little moments, when the fate of the galaxy wasn't in the balance and nobody's lives were riding on Shepard's shoulders, when it was just her and her own personal fears, and she still stood strong in the face of it all. That was the real courageous moments as far as Trish was concerned.
...
When the service finally came to an end Trish would have liked nothing more to than to get out of there as quickly as possible, but she was swamped with people offering their condolences. Fortunately Garrus noticed her discomfort and had the Normandy ground team close ranks around her, escorting her and Ben out to safety. They'd nearly made it when he halted, putting a supportive talon on her shoulder as the squad parted to reveal a tear stained Joker wheeling himself towards them. The wheelchair a necessity after breaking so many bones as a result of not being securely strapped down in the escape pod.
"I'm sorry Trish." He couldn't even look her in the eye, but the guilt and self loathing was evident in his voice. It was the first time she'd seen him since the wedding, but she'd heard what had happened on that fateful day. It would be so easy to lash out at him, to make him suffer for what had happened, but she'd once seen and heard the same guilt ridden despair on her partner, and had fought long and hard to bring her back from it. No one deserved to walk that path. As Trish thought hard about what to say she saw the Normandy crew closely watching on with interest, their faces split between pity and contempt for the pilot.
"Do you believe in parallel universes?" She finally asked and Joker looked up at her in surprise, clearly caught off guard by such a seemingly random question.
"The idea that there are an infinite alternate universes out there and every possible outcome to a situation happens somewhere?" He checked, and she nodded but continued before he could answer.
"There's universes out there where Nikki died years ago, on Mindoir or Akuze or on a hundred different battlefields. There's ones out there where her gamble above Alchera paid off and you both survived. Others where it went worse and both of you died. But nowhere out there, not in the hundreds of thousands of alternate universes, is there a single universe where that scenario arose and she didn't at least try to save you. It's simply not possible. It's who she was." Tears pricked at her eyes again, even though she'd been sure she'd run out, but she ignored them and kept going.
"And I used to hate it you know? The way she put everybody else's wellbeing above her own, even strangers. But I realised years ago, if she didn't do it then she wouldn't be her. She wouldn't be the woman I love. I know my Nikki and she wouldn't blame you for what happened Joker. She wouldn't hold a grudge and she certainly wouldn't want you to blame yourself either. And I know she'd want-" Her voice choked for a moment. "She'd want me to forgive you too."
There she'd said it. He might not believe her, but it was true and he had needed to hear it. It wouldn't magically manage to fix anything but it could be a powerful first step if he chose to take it. She watched as Joker nodded, a lump in his throat as he turned and wheeled himself away, the rest of the crowd dispersing with looks of quiet contemplation on their faces. Trish waited until they were all definitely out of hearing range before she quietly added to herself: "And maybe one day I'll be able to."