Steam wafts away from the coffee on the table. A motionless body—clothed with many layers as if it's all armor—sucks in harsh breaths through clenched teeth, never moving a muscle off the living room couch as if she's condemned herself to a prison sentence. Hands are buried in auburn tresses, fingers gnarled like they're trying to claw the skull open.
Liara pinches the collar of her robe before she catches herself and evicts the nightmarish images in her mind, reinvigorating efforts to be mindful and careful with how she approaches her lover. She pushes off from the wall, striding across the living room to kneel in front of Jane, pulling the wrists away. Trying to. She's met by the definition of stubbornness, one who is trying desperately to hide. She understands. She understand so much it hurts, especially after she caught glimpse of what horrors the marine was trapped in, before the meld broke the illusion like shattering glass.
"Talk to me, siame," Liara murmurs, caressing a cheek as she leans up onto her toes to press her lips to the human's forehead, tasting salt from the sheen of sweat. "Please do not shut me out. We cannot pretend this does not hurt you, anymore."
"What do you want me to say?" Jane whispers dejectedly, hunching as if she's already given up. "Your solution to all this is to push me to the nearest shrink. They've never seen war. What's some pencil-pusher going to tell me about the shit I saw? Hey, yeah, that shit was fucked up. No shit, sir. Or ma'am." She pulls her wrists away and hugs her head as she curls in on her lap. "So we know it was all fucked up. We know I'm all fucked up. And because of that... I just..." Her knuckles turn white with how much harder her fingers dig into her scalp. She struggles and gropes for the words, regurgitating syllables until she forces the goddess-honest truth out of herself.
"I'm scared, Liara. What if I'm too broken to heal? They'll stick a jacket on me and lock me up in an asylum. I'll never get to be able to wear my uniform again, because of it. Is it really so bad, trying to be normal? Trying to play civvie, to remind myself how to act outside of a war zone? I'm not crazy all the time... Right?"
"You are not crazy at all. You are wounded." Liara enunciates with purpose, grabbing her lover's knees as she squeezes firmly. "All wounds heal, but they all have their own time—time that you cannot dictate, but must respect. All wounds have ways to help assist the healing process, like metal and screws for broken bones, or ointments for burns." She cautiously pulls the arms away to lift the head with a tender cup of the chin, her other fingers skirting above the brow, tracing the rim of the eye-patch. "Or surgery to remove the pieces that do not belong."
"And the only way for me to heal now is to talk?" Jane's lips press thin, glancing up with skepticism in her eye. "There really isn't any other way?"
"You can start by talking to me, Jane, and if you do not want to talk to me... That is fine. But please, siame, I beg of you, talk to someone. Or we can search for a doctor who has served somewhere, someone who can relate to you, who will understand exactly what you are going through. Regardless, you know now... Or rather, you have known all this time, but now know this cannot be restrained anymore. This is more than just anxiety—or fears of being attacked. You are still living Elysium. You will be forever stuck there, no matter where you walk to in waking, whether it is a war zone or a city. What I saw for a fraction of that second..." A shudder ripples through her, a bite of fear recoiling through her. She clasps Jane's jaw when that eye falls to avoid her. "What I felt in that second, from you..."
"I'd never hurt you," Jane insists, her olivine eye flickering with remnants of a long-dead fire. "I swear I never would, I'd rather lob off my own hands."
"You will never need to. I know you would not," Liara reassures. "But that your mind concocted this, made you believe it was all real... Do you not agree that is concerning, what you thought you did, without a... Hostile trigger?" She absentmindlessly touches her throat. "It's concerning it had happened without provocation to your life, yet it was all borne from that feeling."
Lips are chewed raw, the corner of the marine's bottom lip growing swollen and a deep crimson. She's going to split it open at this rate. She's hurting enough, but there's only so much Liara can do—urge, or encourage. She hates being helpless like this. She wishes she could just blast through her lover's walls and stigmas, to show her directly that therapy is nothing to be afraid or ashamed of. Humans truly are strange enigmas sometimes.
In the end, it's up to Jane. All Liara can do is share her feelings, and stand behind wherever the marine decides to stand.
After a length of silence, Jane caves in with a subtle nod, her voice dropping to a shell of it's former exuberant life when she whispers. "It is. I really thought..." She turns her palm in and hits it against her temple. "So stupid. I'm so stupid. How didn't I figure it out? I should have. The knife came out of nowhere. I was grabbing your... So it makes sense because..." Another smack. "I should have connected the dots. Realized I was being stupid."
"You are not stupid, siame," Liara comes down firmly, scooping up the wrists again to pull them outwards, and bends down to get in the marine's face so that she has nowhere to hide. "You are traumatized. There is no being gentle with words with what you have suffered. Your wound is open, and raw, and ugly. Your mind has been cut open." She pulls the wrists against her chest, feeling resistance at first when it seems as though Jane thinks to guide them to her throat. "Think of it exactly like all the doctors that have helped you with your eye, and your other injuries. Only that, instead of bandages, you heal with words."
Skepticism runs at an all-time high when Jane's face twists, before it falls deadpan. "It just sounds so... Like it's some kind of miracle drug. How does talking help with all that?" She looks down at her hands. "Words can't erase what I've done. Can't erase what I know, forget who I am."
Liara smiles a little, leans in to press it soft against the marine's puffed lips. "Think of all the words we hold dear to us, that we've told each other. I know I can think of many. Words are more powerful than you are thinking of, right now. They can crush a heart, or heal it. They can shame a soul, or liberate it. They can shatter dreams, or energize them. They can obstruct connection, or invite it. They can create defenses, or melt them. When used wisely, wise words build you and equip you. I assure you siame, I would not be here today were it not for your words, years ago. You've liberated me, energized me, dismantled my insecurities, and have invited the connection to start something so wonderful, between us. To this day, I still think fondly of all the things you told me, in the beginning—and the times you've invaded my space, much to my chagrin at the time."
With a playful flick on the nose, something about the surprise in that green eye endears Liara, as if Jane is in disbelief still of all what she is worthy of, and all that the scientist sees. Liara's jaw crooks in a small grin. "Words have enlightened me on the song I was so weird not to already know: 99 bottles on the wall. Words saved you from boredom too, if you'll recall the many, many times I've read to you. So... Case in point, siame. Words are more powerful than you think. Think about it, okay? Vulnerability is why we are here right now, why we share this between us. Think about allowing it, and embracing it rather than spurning the vulnerability imposed. That is all I will ask of you for now."
Liara rises on her feet, ignoring the numbness that's settled and the buzzing bugs in her toes now. She offers her hand. "If you are up for it, I would like to meld with you again, so that you have a positive experience."
Jane frowns with concern and anxiety. "I don't know, love... I don't think you want to hear or feel what I've got swimming in my head right now. Nothing positive."
"A healthy abundance of vulgar swearing—and all revolving around doctors that do not know what they are talking about." Liara shrugs indifferently. She smirks a little when the marine just gapes at her, as if she's pin-point accurate in her guess. "I know you, siame. I understand you need time, and nobody can force you to be ready. Not me, not even yourself. I will always be here no matter what, though." Another bounce of the hand. "Allow me to make it up to you in the meld. I'd like for you to journey with me as I think back to one of my fondest memories with you, the start of it all... So you can see the power of words for yourself."
Hesitance is clear as rain, and Jane stares at the scientist's hand as if she's contemplating whether or not the hand will alter the trajectory of her entire life. It's getting harder and harder to not just scoop up this human in a biotic bubble and show her all the wonderful things, the way Jane used to be before Elysium—but for such a fundamental part of her to shift to this degree forces a delicate hand. Liara retracts her offer and inwardly chants a mantra to coach patience into herself, in hopes the smile she's forcing now reflects some semblance of patience.
She should know better than to think she can fool one who has made it a mission to learn every goddess-damned facet to her, right down to her core.
Jane forces a smile herself, her expression screaming how pitiful she thinks she is as her jaw crooks in self-depreciation. "Needing cradling and coddling like a damn child, right now. I'd shame so many marines right now by calling myself one."
"You are one," Liara states adamantly, a fact that will never change, no matter the fundamentals. "You're the bravest and the toughest there ever has been, and forever will be."
"Heh, yeah..." Jane's gaze falls to her hand, opening it as she stretches her fingers. That haunted look glazes over her eye, and she clenches her fist shut. "I'm going to reach out to mom, see when she has time in her schedule to do a vid-call to talk about... Well. All of this. Much as I don't wanna admit it, I know I've got dad's hard head. She'll know how to deal with it with all her experience with that, and she's better than I am with all this kind of stuff anyhow. She'll know what I can do."
Pain zings down Liara's tongue as she bites it before she blurts: what if even Mrs. Shepard suggests therapy? The scientist nods promptly to keep up with the momentum before it's lost, meandering over to the kitchen when Jane turns on her omni-tool. Hopefully 'being better with this kind of stuff' does not entail personal experiences as well, but rather empathetic wisdom, or through guiding others as they ventured on their path to healing.
Goddess, this has been astronomically more difficult than Liara ever feared it be. She's known since the beginning, worried since the beginning, and has had all this time to brace herself to swim in these murky waters. The rockiest part in their relationship?
It's never been over, and it never will be.
She contemplates reaching out to her own mother for wisdom, to see if there is anything else she can do or try to support... And hopefully foster an understanding, a willingness that therapy needn't be so scary—or intimately invasive, as perhaps Jane is fretting as such.
Sounds come from the living room and Liara keeps an aural out as she fixes up something to eat for herself, figuring that it's just the television. She wanders back to the door frame with a sandwich in hand, curious to find Jane watching the news despite her aversion with what's repeatedly cycling through it. Liara hides her frown behind her sandwich as she nibbles on the edges, watching her partner instead of the news when more 'experts' and strategists come on to talk about Elysium. That anyone is forced to be experts at this... It hurts to think about.
Heat sears the atmosphere as Jane steams in her seat, her private thoughts aired out so plain to see with the way she fidgets. Her hands run along her thighs, fingers digging into her knees at times. She tries to suck in slow breaths, only for it to hiss out of her when the news plays footage that her 'war buddy' had recorded, as more analysts from all over the universe discuss their opinions. Liara heads over and sits a cushion over, trying to respect space when all she wants is to grab and pull and hide Jane away from all of this.
One way or another, though, she'll be needing to confront all of this if she wants to heal.
"Would you like me to make you one?" Liara murmurs softly, holding out her sandwich to break that laser focus for the fleetest of moments—all that she needs. She chuckles when Jane mindlessly steals the whole thing, mumbling a 'thank you' in between bites, her concentration on the news never breaking otherwise, unfortunately. The scientist heads back to make another one for herself as she thinks what the next move should be. She assumes there's been a message fired off to Mrs. Shepard, and now it's just a waiting game, the vid-call pending to interrupt whatever they plan from here on out. That's fine.
Night has fallen, however, and exhaustion is creeping in Liara's bones from the day. She's been pushing on and on and on, and she doesn't want to leave Jane like this. She doesn't think the marine will be open to head to bed any time soon—not with what's transpired. Liara suppresses a sigh and bites into her new sandwich as she heads back to the living room, her brain tirelessly racing for solutions to hundreds of problems. She leans against the frame as she observes the marine.
Faithfully, true to her rambunctious nature, Jane remains the ever-noisy eater. It's at least a fundamental constant that hopefully will never change. Liara closes her eyes and silently listens on to commit it all to memory, her lips twitching in flickers of smiles as she slowly chews through her food. She jumps in her skin, startled when something falls on her shoulder, her eyes snapping to the hand on her. The passage of time has betrayed itself with the clues flooding in: her sandwich on the floor, the aches in her body from unwise positioning as she's slowly pulled from her lean on the frame. When she moves to clean up her mess, a tentative hand wraps around her wrist to pull her back up. Tentative, why? Jane's always been firm in her approach. Another fundamental shifted out of place.
"Don't worry about that, I'll clean it up," Jane whispers softly, as if wary to disturb sleep. "Let's get you to bed before you pass out again, hon. You've gotta be dead tired if you did, standin' up."
"What about you?" Liara mumbles, lead along without resistance. Her feet catch on her calves and she has to make a conscious effort to be mindful of them when they reach the stairs.
"I'm not ready to sleep yet," is all the marine says.
She becomes more hesitant, but the lure of sleep is lulling and pulling at Liara to think to argue or be mindful of what she's witnessing. Her robe is picked apart, and she melts from careful attention paid to her shoulders, a kiss to the bruise inflicted by the risqué bite of teeth earlier on in the day. Her muscles tense when she swears there's something wrong in the way she's kissed, some kind of invisible red flag waving furiously—but looking over proves fruitless, as all she can see is auburn hair shielding Jane's face, listening to the gentle sounds of lips touching skin. Her robe falls between their bodies, exposing her to the chill of the air. The warmth behind her suddenly disappears when Jane makes an escape for the stairs.
"Good night, love. Sweet dreams."
Liara glances over her bruised shoulder with worry, watching the body slinking away in darkness as the lights are shut off. With a reaction like that, after the things they've both seen concocted from phantom horrors, Liara is certain she's not going to be touched any time soon.
If any time ever again.
Something crashing jolts Liara awake, the bright morning assaulting her eyes as she shoots up into sitting. Leaving her mind in bed, she slithers out the sheets to investigate the noises. She comes to the railing and has more questions than answers as she watches Jane working out in the living room below, her choice of exercise betraying her enthusiasm years prior to be lazy by sitting in a recliner in gravity-altered environments.
There's an insensitive yearning pulling at the pits of Liara's belly as she observes how all the muscles move in tandem through rigorous exercise, stuck in awe with how spirited Jane is in one-armed push-ups, her hair pulled in a messy bun that's gradually teased apart with each forceful movement. After a few repetitions, she jumps up on her feet and jumps up in the air again, her arms stretching high above her. The noise falls in line with what woke Liara as the marine drops down to a plank and starts her push-ups again.
"What's gotten into you?" Liara blurts, bewildered. She swiftly disappears behind the railing when that auburn head begins to raise towards her, to collect her robe and conceal herself. She doesn't know what to brace herself for this morning, a trepidation gripping her as she comes to the stairs.
To her surprise, there's a sweat-slicked grin greeting her, silently issuing permission that she can let her guard down and tease.
"Are you stressed again, siame?" Liara quips of their inside joke, her own jaw crooking as she struggles not to smirk. It falters a little when there's silence. It's assuredly not something Jane would ever forget, and it worries the scientist when the response just feels as though it's premeditated—something that would be done to belay her worries, just as assuredly.
"How can I not be, when I'm living with an asari commando?" Jane taunts back in the midst of diving back into her reps, her voice strained with effort. "Had a lot to think about over the night. Watched a bit more of the news, mostly the Alliance channel to see what initiatives are in the works. I'm getting soft, sitting here, feeling sorry for myself while there are others fighting out there. I've made up my mind. I need to do this to get off the couch, get out in the galaxy, and get back in fighting shape."
Concern immediately pulls that smirk into a frown. Liara can't help the seed of worry blooming in her chest, tightening around her lungs. She can't help but feel as though the marine is missing the point, or forgetting it, or trying to ignore it and continue to pretend her trauma isn't a thing to be sincerely concerned of.
"You did not take your sleeping aids last night... Have you gotten any sleep at all, without them?" Liara inquires, glancing behind her and back at the bedroom. There's no evidence that she's been joined during the night. She looks back and wipes at her mouth in a paltry effort to erase the frown off her face when she catches sprightly shaking of the head, with the marine never slowing down in her vigorous movements. Upon the next jump up to catch air, Liara spots the dark circle growing under her lover's eye, the eye-patch a reminder that it is not the only thing to be mindful of to heal properly. "Should you be exercising to this degree right now? You only just got your sutures removed the other week."
"Nothing is bleeding, love. I've been checking in on my eye too. Only thing that's bugging me right now is the sweat running down my face." Jane stops for a moment to rake her sweat-slicked bangs back, hand pinning it to the top of her head as her chest heaves in ragged breaths.
Her grin is honest-to-goddess annoying Liara now.
"Can you please try to be more attentive and mindful of your recovery?" Liara laments aloud, and there's something alien blooming in her chest when the marine's laughter fills the room. It's a frightful realization that it's aggravation, and she doubles down with a more keen awareness to her emotions to ensure they're under lock and key, forcing to exercise patience. It's never needed to be forced before. It's always been wanted—and now it's not. She doesn't understand this, is caught off guard by this, and is hurting over the fact that Jane isn't taking any of this seriously.
Perhaps Liara's just had a bad sleep, a dream she can't remember—perhaps for the best—that's the true culprit in this apparent short fuse creeping up on her. She knows she's already lost this battle of stubborn wills when Jane slams right back onto the ground for her push-ups. There's a mental note made to check in on the news to see what exactly has lit this ill-timed fire under Jane, though perhaps the safest course of action is to research in the privacy of the office terminal or her omni-tool, out of sight.
"After I'm done this set, I'm hopping in the shower!" Jane calls out when Liara retreats into her office. "Pack for a beach, I'm taking you to one today!"
Please, please, for the love of the Goddess, please have Mrs. Shepard call today so that there can be some serious sense knocked into this stubborn marine that she should be doing literally anything besides what she's planning to right now. She's still evading her trauma, still trying to do 'normal' things to feel 'normal'. She has to come to terms with the fact that no one will ever be 'normal' again from what Elysium has carved in the minds of those fatefully cursed to have been there that day.
She can't outrun the ghosts in the mind forever.
There's no time to hunt down news articles and pack, however, with how quick Jane always is, restlessly eager to get moving and objectively obstinate to never stay still. Liara reluctantly heads back upstairs to pack what she thinks she'll need, stopping by the bathroom to grab a couple towels. Her gaze glazes over one of the latest additions to the canvas of skin before her, the ghastly thick scar slashing along Jane's thigh from what she described as a rabid varren ambush. She's never going to take it as seriously as such warranted, and how lucky she is to have escaped with her leg still intact. The marine flashes her easygoing smile as always when they meet eyes, before stepping into the shower stall.
"You look like you got something on your mind," Jane playfully says, her tone itself an implication of her racy line of thought. "We could make it come true so that I'm on more than only that."
"I don't have a bathing suit," Liara replies tersely, the tension collecting inside of her as malevolent thought piles one on the other, turning her against her own partner. She knows she's been had when Jane slides open the glass door to peek out at her, her olivine eye burrowed with concern. The scientist sighs as she shakes her head. "Sorry. I must have not had a good rest, I just feel... I don't know. It's strange."
It unsettles her even more when, for once, Jane is the one that's ever so observant, studying and calculating rather than reacting as her reactive nature always has dictated. She turns off the shower within a few seconds of being in and brazenly steps out, ignoring the water tailing her as she comes up to rest her hands on Liara's shoulders, squeezing them firmly as she beams a warm smile.
"You're reactive in every sense, even ways I don't think you're aware you're doing, hon. You get that way when you're stressed. It's not the first time, and I know it won't be the last. That's why we're going to the beach. We're both going to work on relaxing today—we both need it. I want to spend today making it the best we can possibly make it be, just like every other day we get to spend when we're together." Her hands glide up to frame the scientist's jaw, leaning in for a chaste peck on the nose. "I know it's going to be hard... And even I can't, but... Just try to forget about last night. At least for today. Okay? Nothing but good thoughts, and a good time today. I know we can make it awesome. Everything's going to work out in the end, I promise. So try to take a deep breath." She kisses the forehead next, before resting hers against Liara's, her eye fluttering shut. "Can you take a deep breath for me, with me, right now?"
That deep breath will only be spent on holding it at the very end, to quell this screaming inside her brain. She doesn't think it will work out in the end. This laidback method has been tried and failed all this time, and yet Jane's habitually slithering back to that method. Liara doesn't want to spend another day pretending to be normal, to just 'think good thoughts' as if it's all it'll take to erase what's plaguing and beating in the veins of scarred skin.
Goddess help her, she's trying so hard to stay patient and supportive—and she understands, she does, or she thinks she does at least... Or wants to believe that... But she doesn't know how much longer she can do this.
If last night's episode wasn't enough to be a wake up call, what will be?
But she indulges. She throws her faith to the wind and only time will tell which way it's blowing, though she braces herself for pain. It's the only way she can stay patient, knowing and accepting that she'll be hurting for it. Her brain ceaselessly torments her as it races ever onward, until her foundation slithers back under her feet when she realizes that Jane's watching and waiting ever so dutifully on her. Liara nods slightly and closes her eyes, trying to sync her breath with her partner.
She feels like she's going to fall apart, rather than grow steady.
"Another one," Jane coaches serenely, a tone uncharacteristic of her. She's always so fiery, so energetic.
They take one after another after another, and it feels like relaxing around a hearth of a cozy fire instead, warmth lapping from the ends of her limbs until it embraces her by the core. She's somewhat vaguely aware of her robe being peeled off her, a gentle hand wrapped around her wrist to coax her to move.
"Shower with me?" Jane asks, before a brief laugh accompanies for some reason. "We won't do anything to each other."
Ah.
"What was that vulgar thing you liked to employ, back then?" Liara teases a little, her lips curling in a subtle smile as she opens her eyes.
"Load of shit, yeah?"
"Yes," Liara chuckles. She sighs and feels disconcerted when she suddenly feels alien to be this naked and intimate with Jane, as if she's with a different person. She doesn't know how to express that, though, not without hurting with her words by bumbling through something that can certainly be very misconstrued. She melts a little more when she's pulled along, assisted as always to remove her underwear. There's a natural yearning inside of her that even she can't deny, to have some semblance of normalcy. She's surprised to still be touched, despite what transpired last night, as Jane saddles up behind her in the stall, embracing her by the waist as she turns the shower on.
Yelps ring out from the initial blast of ice-cold water, a vicious shiver rolling through them both. She doesn't deny the comfort of the arms wrapped around her, trying to ignore the other grotesque scar from the laceration incurred from a varren mangling Jane's forearm. Liara runs her fingertips back and forth along the backs of the marine's hands before she embraces the arms curled over her waist, her muscles slackening with the warm water beating down on them. Her head lulls back as a chin rests on her unmarked shoulder.
"This is so nice..." Liara murmurs with tranquility finally gradually returning to her. She closes her eyes as she tunes in to the rhythm of breathing behind her, and the loose hug that carries more weight in feelings than perhaps Jane is aware. Liara sighs with content when an open-mouthed kiss is pressed to her shoulder, though it seems a hasty decision soon regretted when the chin is immediately parked back on again.
There's no chance for normalcy so long as there exists a fear of intimacy—whether physical, or transcending beyond what words could ever hope to express.
"So you really don't have a bathing suit, huh?" Jane inquires, and she sounds almost as though she's won some kind of bet. Amused too.
"Just the dive suit from Kahje," Liara shrugs. "Though I do not think you had diving in mind. You did choose a beach that's eezo-free for you though, yes?"
"Yeah. To all of that, pretty much. We'll just buy bathing suits for the both of us on our way there. I haven't even brought my wetsuit here. Figured all you had was eezo everywhere."
"Mm, well you're not entirely wrong. Thessia houses very few bodies of water that are safe to other species besides our own. At least we do not get rain often."
"Oh shit, yeah, I never thought of that. I'd pretty much be screwed then, huh?"
"You would have ample time to react and get indoors, or find an asari that would shield you with biotics. At least, I know that in Armali, they will play a siren and send out a message to all omni-tools in the radius and travel path of any potential rain clouds. But... I would rather not tempt your luck. Perhaps you should stay closer to me when we're out and about. A single rain drop with eezo in it will be enough to prove fatal to you."
Silence, for a moment. Another brief kiss, before reprimanded by regret, and Jane sighs as she rests her forehead on Liara's shoulder instead. "I'm so lucky to have you in my life. I'm sorry I've been such a burden to you these past few months."
How many months has it even been since Jane's basically moved in with her? Liara's only been keeping track based on how many weeks need to pass before there's another checkup with the doctor to ensure everything's healing as it should. Credits are diminishing the longer she doesn't go on an expedition to bring something to the table for intrigued museum curators, and she's turning away free sponsorships for her expeditions as well, burning bridges. In the end, she doesn't regret a single decision that's led to this moment. She knows Jane would do the same, and more if it were in her power.
Unfortunately, her own silence is misconstrued, and she rushes to amend it.
"I promise I'll make up for it in the future, one day. And-"
"You have not been a burden to me at all, siame," Liara interjects sternly, turning her head so that she can try to get a good look—but all she sees is the drenched auburn hair. "Not for one second, all this time. I apologize if I have ever made you feel that way, or have come across that way, with the ways I tend to fret. But I assure you that I have never thought to do anything different. I meant it when I told you, that day at the ceremony: wherever you are, I will go."
Jane's arms tighten a little, and she chuckles weakly. "Fuck, love... Do asari believe in soul mates at all? Probably not, with how long you live. But I still believe you're mine for my life."
"Soul mates? Is this intimacy on a spiritual level, or...?"
"Well that answers that asari don't have them," Jane quips, then shrugs. "It's like... It sounds so fucking cheesy out loud. Do I have to explain it?"
"I mean, we may have a similar term." The one Liara's been avoiding asking for rites to. "But it is not covered in cheese."
"Y'know what I mean, smartass," the marine pinches playfully, and even without seeing, a grin can be felt in the air. "It's kind of spiritual, I guess. It's like being destined to be with one another, a 'one true love' kind of deal, but there's a kind of natural affinity where it all just works out on it's own. That person is everything to you: in love, in trust and in understanding. The way I think of it, it's just all forms of intimacy, like beyond the physical. You're just... You're so perfect, as you are. You're perfect in every way, to me, and I love every single part about you. Wouldn't ever change one little thing. I know I have a lot to work on especially right now, though, so I can only hope that one day I'll be the same for you. I got so much catching up to do, 'cause I'm still so far out your league that I'm not in the same damn sport."
A wry laugh wrenches from Liara's throat in disbelief, and she twists until she breaks their connection, keeping a hand up on her forehead to shield her eyes from the water crashing down on her head. She shakes her head, unable to comprehend at all. "You what? Siame, you—oh..."
Tears well up in her eyes, the weight of realization and the emotion catching her off guard. She's still in shock, still chuckling at such bizarre blasphemy. She frames Jane's jaw and catches herself before she pulls in for a kiss that the marine may not be truly ready for, anymore, and the sting is soothed as she chooses to carefully press her lips to the marine's eye-patch.
"May we meld?" Liara murmurs, smiling as the memories already swim with warm conviction. "There are no words to describe what you mean to me, siame, so I would like for you to experience exactly how I feel for you. It seems that, no matter the passage of time, you may never see yourself the way I see you, as I'd hoped you would one day. I wish to remedy that and make that day today."
"W-what like right now? But then you'll see everything in my head too, right?"
Liara leans back with worry, alarmed by the question. She nods carefully.
And laughs at the marine's worst possible issue right now.
"You can't. You definitely can't, or all the surprises I got lined up for today are gonna be ruined. I spent all night changing my plans—the beach is the only thing that's stayed, and-"
"Alright~" Liara kisses the nose, turning back towards the shower so that she can finally begin cleaning herself, before they lose all their hot water. "But at the end of today then, please consider it?"
Not even a beat is missed.
"Deal."
"You're cheating..." Jane heaves tiredly, melting into a puddle from where she's dived in the sand to try to reach the ball. It's the most amusing sight, her arm stretched out, her fingers just an inch short of where the ball's landed. Liara smirks and tries to reign in her comments before she goads a wildfire to erupt from being a sore winner in their mixed game of asari's skyball and human's volleyball.
"To be fair, you never said I had to play by your rules, only that I play by the rules I am familiar with in my sport," Liara answers with a slight shrug. She comes up to the net and dips underneath, abusing the advantage of biotics as she cheekily flips her lover on her back. She kneels and sweeps sand-coated bangs out of Jane's face, unable to contain her smirk with how exhausted the marine is.
"You're having more fun making me run around than actually playing the damn game," Jane accuses. "If that's all you wanted, I'd have no issue running around home butt-naked."
Heat flushes Liara's cheeks over the imagery and she sternly shakes her head. Unfortunately, her doom is already sealed with the way the marine is grinning mischievously.
"Maybe I'll exercise naked too. You seemed to be enjoying the view this morning."
"I will bury you where you're laying," Liara threatens as she springs up into standing, channeling energy around the ball so that it shoots over to hover above her hand. She saunters back on her side of the court as she calls out over her shoulder. "One more round, then I'd like to relax and read a book!"
Jane groans. "I can't do another round, love. I can't even feel my legs anymore."
"Best exercise ever, right?" Liara chuckles as she turns and watches how much the marine is really struggling, on all fours and shaking in her attempts to push herself up. "You should have spared your arms this morning, if you wanted to have even a fraction of a chance of winning this game right now."
A pink tongue sticks out at her. "Anyone ever tell you that sometimes your ego gets way too big when you win shit?"
"I learned from the one leading the best example for me."
Raw laughter cuts the air briefly, before the marine settles in a stance that contradicts her earlier words. She slaps her quivering thighs, fixes her bikini top to ensure modesty will remain, and hunches over as she plants her hands just above her knees. "Ready."
The ball shoots up in the air higher, and Liara chuckles at the panicked look of the marine eating her words already. She lets it hover, waiting for that green eye to come back down on her, wondering and hoping and praying that Jane's been mindful of any sand that's snuck under her eye-patch. They'll likely need to change the bandage after this game.
Worry and stress are sneaking in, and there's a desperation to evict it all before all this effort for them to relax has gone to waste. That Jane hasn't been checking the skies or their surroundings has already been a major leap forward, and Liara wants to stay on this momentum before anxiety and fears have even a second to realize otherwise. Perhaps 'pretending to be normal' isn't so bad, if there are moments like this to show that progress is attainable. She knows she's stalled too long when the marine looks at her, finally, but with confusion and concern herself. Liara decides to try the human's way and leaps up towards the ball as she stretches her arm, smacking with her wrist to send it flying.
Unfortunately, not having a clue on how to actually do it all sends it flying out towards the water instead.
Liara flushes with embarrassment as Jane takes off running—rather, wobbling—to retrieve it, her laughter tailing behind her.
"That was a great first spike, love!"
She needs to get better at lying or not do it at all. Liara braces herself for the leader of the best example of them all gets all in her face with her teasing when Jane returns, ball tucked under her armpit. There's a moment turned awkward when it seems as though the marine leans in to kiss her, before suddenly bouncing back with a brief chuckle as she heads over to leave the ball at the net for whomever wants to play here next.
"First time I ever tried to serve, I hit it with my fingertips instead of my palm. Sent the thing hurtling like a meter from my feet, and that thing bounced away like crazy because of the starship's flooring. Hit mom in the face with it in the end."
Laughter bubbles out of Liara and she saunters after the marine while they head back towards their perched site. "I take it that did not go well for you?"
"Oh my god no. She throttled me for it. I mean, I got it, that must've hurt a ton for sure. I gave her a big bruise on her cheekbone for it and she's the one that still had to work on the ship like that. Must've gotten teased to hell and back by the other officers—but it wasn't her biggest problem. Just that I shouldn't have been doing that kinda stuff in our space. Didn't have much space on a starship's quarters, yeah? I definitely shouldn't have been playing with the ball in there to begin with."
"Why did you?"
Jane shrugs. "Was the first day I learned about it, during gym class. We were allowed to take a ball home just to practice overhead passing. Definitely not spiking. I may have gotten overeager? Wanted a head start to become the best server on court and looked up how to do it."
"Mm, that story pretty much lines up with what I imagined to hear," Liara teases with a smirk, laughing when the marine gives her a playful shove of the shoulder.
"You're gonna lay on the towel while you read, yeah?"
"Mm hm. I won't be long, I'd just like a chapter or two. What will you do in the mean time?"
"Eh... I can start packing up the other things to take it back to the sky-car. Got two more places I wanna take ya."
"You don't want to swim? You seemed to be looking forward to it."
"Not the same without you," Jane shrugs. "Besides, that game was more fun. We should play like that more, in the future. Here, want more sunscreen on your back? Wait, do you even need this thing?" There's a question swimming in her eye when she bends to pick up the bottle, turning to Liara. "What would you look like if you burned? Do asari even tan?"
"You'd let me burn just to sate your curiosity?" Liara mocks a gasp, smiling and laughing when she earns another shove before the marine circles behind her. She yelps when there's a giant dollop of cold cream blasted onto her shoulders, with a hand messily smearing it down her back. Things come to a sudden standstill when the backs of knuckles brush a small bit of cream down to the sensitive bundle of nerves on her lower back, and Liara whips around before she's teased too far. She realizes it's been done by accident when the marine looks at her with bewilderment over her reaction.
And then Jane's lips part in a silent oh.
Once, the momentum would've been capitalized. A mischievous marine would be scouting out and concocting plans on where they could sneak a moment of intimacy between them—another fundamental proven to have changed fundamentally when Jane backs away with an awkward laugh, tossing the bottle on one of the towels as she wipes the excess cream off on her arms. She doesn't say anything and jogs over to the water as her escape.
Thrumming buzzes hard in Liara's nerves, and it beckons touch, closeness, a revelation and expression of affection. She absentmindlessly touches her throat. She understands, yes, she understands so much it hurts and she doesn't know what to do to help her partner anymore. This gradual deterioration is agonizing, watching helplessly, praying that in the end, it really will all 'work out' as Jane promises. She must realize what she's doing too, and why she's doing it. Or perhaps it's all—as she would unforgivably deign it on herself—her being 'stupid' and not being aware of it?
With all the times she seems to be realizing it, and running away for it, there's no way she isn't aware. If she's scared of another unprovoked episode, does that not alone herald the need that she should be seeking help? Clearly 'pretending to be normal' isn't helping.
All that stress that's been evicted before is now slamming back in. Liara sighs and forces herself to lay down on her towel, searching her satchel for her book to try to keep her mind off this and keep faith in her heart. She doesn't know how to navigate this between them now, though. Does it also mean she cannot make any advances? That she'll be rebuffed if she tries to reach out with a kiss on the lips? She cherishes the intimacy between them even if she doesn't quite have the courage to lead or instigate it, having always taken for granted of Jane's natural affinity to do so without boast.
Read, read, read—but Liara can't derail her mind and her thoughts from this. They swim endlessly the moment concern is convoked. She can't help but tense a little, apprehensive when she hears labored breathing slowly make it back towards her. She glances over when Jane unceremoniously dumps herself on the towel beside the scientist, lying face down.
"I'm sorry."
Liara closes her book, quietly stashing it back in her satchel as she perks up on her elbows. She already has a pretty good idea, but she wonders how the marine will put it.
"You've nothing to apologize for, siame."
"No, I do. I've got lots to apologize for," Jane sighs, folding her arms beneath her head. She thumbs the strap of the eye-patch until she pulls it free from her drenched hair, forcing herself to sit back up as she searches her dufflebag for her small med-kit. She loosely ties her hair back out her face, and Liara winces at the sight of the bandages barely hanging for dear life, thoroughly soaked. She pushes herself up to help, but hands gently ward her away when she reaches to remove the bandage. "I can do it. Done it enough times that I don't need a mirror." Jane peels off the square, carefully massaging around her eyelid. As she works, Liara tries to work more out of her.
"What do you think you have to apologize for?"
"Everything."
"That's too broad," Liara chuckles softly. "Especially when I feel as though you have nothing to say sorry for."
Jane chews on the corner of her lip. She gives a small shake of her head as she turns away until her back faces the scientist, working away on drying her face to apply her new bandages. Her shoulders lift in a half shrug. Her voice falls to a hush. "I'm scared, Liara. Uncertain. I've never felt that before with my decisions. I always trusted my gut to lead me, but now I'm going against it, and all I have is doubt. Am I doing the right thing?"
An ill omen brews in Liara's stomach. She tries to decipher any clues that might be given off by body language, to try to guess what it is that the marine's already decided upon. She sits up a little straighter, decides to test the waters as she scoots over on her knees to cup Jane's damp shoulders, which tense immensely upon her touch. There's a slight roll, a silent plea, and her chest tightens as though a weight is sitting on her lungs. She reluctantly pulls away and scoots back to give space.
One thing is stitched together, upon realizing there's been depth to some things Jane's said: namely, she's been talking about making the most of today to make it the best they can, talking of the future, as if they no longer have time to do things now. Liara slumps on her rear as she folds her legs in. She wonders if all of this is due to whatever news her partner's seen, or if Mrs. Shepard had been able to do a vid-call over the course of the night. Liara curses herself for going to bed, then, wishing she could've just kept pushing on and on—maybe she would've been able to alter the trajectory to stay on the right path. If only she could just... It's all her fault, isn't this? It has to be. But now it's too late, and the time's run out to make the most of today, to rectify and make amends.
"You're leaving," she mumbles. "Are you going back to the Alliance?"
Please, please let that doubt be the cause that Jane knows she needs to heal right now, not serve.
"I am," the marine answers with steely resolve. "I've a flight booked and will be leaving at the end of today to return to report to Arcturus Station, and begin the process of being reinstated into active duty."
"Is that wise?" Liara blurts, that annoyance slowly slithering back into her veins, however unwanted. She stands her ground when Jane twists to look at her. It's now or never, for it's now the only time she's able to push in an attempt to break down that obstinate barrier. "You need help, siame. You know you do. Your wounds will remain open and you will beckon more by heading back to serve now."
"And if serving helps me heal?"
"Serving is the reason why you're like this to begin with," Liara hisses. She doesn't understand. She doesn't understand this at all—this must be due to stigma and aversion, and trauma whispering tantalizing things so that it can continue to traumatize, uncontested. This is far too insane for anyone to possibly believe this to be true. Has being patient been enabling all of this instead? Should she have been firmer, to say the words Jane doesn't want to hear, but must?
All they do is stare at each other. Liara feels as though she's crumbling, her foundation swept away when that green eye disappears as Jane faces forward again, fixing on her new bandage before her eye-patch. She hasn't even finished healing physically! The Alliance cannot possibly allow an injured soldier back in the ranks. They would not allow someone who's become mentally unstable to serve—but the unfortunate reality of it all is that Jane's still lucid, and she's experienced an episode. She's proving to be cautious and taking steps to avoid another episode. She can hide all of this and the Alliance would never know, until it's too late, until she falls apart in another way she cannot sweep under the rug.
How is she not understanding this?
"No matter what, you're against me serving," Jane mutters with an eerily calm seethe. "You always have been. If it were up to you, I wouldn't be a marine at all."
This tone. These words. Liara doesn't know what to do with them, what to say with them. Her chest continues to tighten and it's getting harder to breathe. Why is she treated like she's an enemy? It's the trauma. That's the enemy, that's what needs to be defeated here—but she doesn't think she'll be heard anymore, if she wasn't heard to begin with.
Dejected and defeated, she quietly packs up her own things. She rolls her towel and hikes her satchel on her shoulder. She still doesn't know what to say, trying to solder onto the brief sincerity from the confession earlier for some semblance of hope. Jane's uncertain about this, doubtful of this decision she's making. She does know she needs to heal before she needs to serve—but she's already decided, and she's always followed through no matter her feelings on the matter. Elysium was proof of that too, when she doubted herself the whole time.
Is it Liara that needs to open her mind, be receptive to the possibility that perhaps serving will be what helps Jane? Things are so muddled and murky right now, it's hard to see an end to all this gray area. Perhaps talking things through is only something that would help her, while action is what would help the marine. It's so hard to tell, anymore. It's hard to see with clarity beyond all this agony, this searing bite from the air surrounding her partner now.
Exhaustion is creeping back into Liara's bones. She rises with her things and starts to walk back towards the car, neither saying anything more when the marine comes to linger behind. Liara's losing heart in this war, and it hurts to think if she's already lost the war itself—lost Jane. What Liara's feared most is coming to life now, isn't it? It isn't scars, or even missing limbs. She was always certain that the fire would never die, that it'd only grow bigger and wilder. But the flames have been compromised, with things thrown in to feed it that should not be.
And in the end, her fear appears to be coming to pass: where she's left to love her memories of past more than the person behind her at present. Jane is slowly turning into someone neither of them can recognize anymore.
Words are certainly more powerful than even Liara was thinking of. How laughably naïve she was, to think she could keep it alive, to utter such audacious words, foolishly oblivious to the ramifications of what such a catastrophic event like Elysium would inflict and engrave upon such a soul like the marine's. How obnoxious of them both to think they could just command fate to listen to sweet nothings.
"I love you with all my heart, Jane. No matter what will happen, no matter where life takes us, that will never change for as long as I live. Our spark will never die."
Author Note
Thank you so much to those that have been reviewing this story! Sorry I haven't reached out personally to them, I don't get email notifications and haven't been paying attention (clearly, with how long it's taken me to acknowledge them to this point XD). It means a lot that you've taken the time to do so, even with all the rough patches in this story! Speaking of...
Moribund definition: in terminal decline; lacking vitality or vigor. Decaying, atrophying, stagnating.
In other words, a slow death.