Dealing with loss (Part 1)

It gnawed at her.

There was rarely a private moment for her, so she could barely sob, not with Kenneth and Gabby on the other side of the room to hear her.

She had read every manual, seen the vids on it; her work only could distract her for so long. She can block it from her mind, but it eventually comes back.

It was the guilt and the depression.

First it was all those who were under her Command on Haestrom, many of whom she even considered her friends. Thank the Ancestors that Reegar was at least safe, or more appropriately, thank Joh-Shepard since he swooped in at the right time. A part of her blames the failure on herself for hesitating to send him the distress message, despite his instruction to not hesitate. That would be the second time, or third if she counted Antibaar; or fourth if she also counted her trial.

I cant keep relying on him to save me from my own failures. Damn it all, if only I wasn't so weak! If only I had the answers!

Perhaps the Ancestors were watching over her using him as their agent. Perhaps the Ancestors understood how weak she was. She inwardly apologized to them on the daily. She just can't stop apologizing…

She wasn't team leader material; making her a Lieutenant was a huge mistake. She was more suited to heading an engineering department, not a ground team. Damn them. The Admirals were already asking too much of her.

And her father was dead.

She barely knew him, Keelah…if anything he was never her father. If anything, she both outwardly admired his Quarian virtue, something no doubt instilled in her through culture, but personally she had subtly despised him; being his daughter gave her the impossible expectations that led up to the tragedy of Haestrom. Because of him, the Quarians looked to her as a Paragon of collective virtue; something that shatters the moment she makes one mistake, a mistake that wasn't even her own but her father's. Holding illegal experiments under the Quarians' noses and doing very little to keep her from taking the fall. Damn him.

Yet she still cried because she had hoped that one day, when he built that house on the homeworld, he could finally be her father for once, and not just a superior officer.

Why couldn't he just love me like the father he's supposed to have been?

But that's not going to happen anymore.

At least he was distant enough that it didn't hurt as much; she was able to hold it all back with ease at her trial on the flotilla. But only when she was alone enough, and her thoughts started to get the best of her, only then did the depression and anxiety begin to grasp.

Her thoughts would then return to the arguments she would have with Shepard, when they were on the Alerei. She would deliberately stop and search terminals, a part of it was to collect evidence of what happened there, but another part of her wanted to stall herself because she was afraid of the inevitable truth of her father being dead. She simply wanted to keep lying to herself about this, and it extended to this whole fight.

Their struggle against the Geth and the reclamation of their homeworld was a fight she believed in; that is until she saw what her father's project and by indirect extension her own actions had done, as well as Shepard's own arguments against it.

He assured her there was a home to be had on the migrant fleet, but she was angry; she snapped at him. Of all people, she thought HE would be the one to understand her, and hearing his objections to it caused her to doubt him. Even Garrus, who accompanied them, voiced his support for Shepard's side, stating more logical reasons compared to Shepard's sentimental ones; that the Quarians don't have the allies or the military to take on the Geth even with a superweapon, especially since the Geth had taken a ship from right under the Quarians' noses with multiple failed attempts at taking it back.

She figured a Turian would say that. What disappointed her was that it was Garrus. And here she thought the friendship that they had fought tooth and nail for was improving.

Sigh*

Upon reflection, however, she was beginning to doubt everything she originally believed in. The admirals she had served loyally all her life did just try to use her as a scapegoat to resolve political infighting with crimes based on weak evidence. How Shepard was when she found her dead father, and how he spoke with that speech that convinced everyone of her innocence; he was quickly redeemed in her eyes.

But she still felt alone.

Everything in her life had gone wrong, saved for her place in the fleet, which even now she had second thoughts about the competency of both the admirals and the Quarian people.

Dead friends; a dead father. All of this she had sacrificed, and the admiralty board just tried punishing her for it. And the worst part: she still had to finish the letters of apology to the families of those who died under her command; something she just doesn't know how to do.

These complicated thoughts; these highs and lows, pushes and pulls; all of which she had to hide; something she was so used to being in her suit, being among Quarians. Now she was among an engineering crew that counted on her leadership, and to Garrus and Shepard who counted on her working at best capacity. Tears would run down her face, and no one could see them; no one could hear her; she believed that it was better that way; but deep down she desired to be seen at her weakest, at her most vulnerable.

A short time into one of these depression trips, she went into her Omni Tool to scourge the extranet, downloading vids, anything that could help her deal with her grief. Not even clips from Fleet and Flotilla were working, since it just reminded her of her friends who are now dead; Dealing with Loss is something she had downloaded because of her friends on Haestrom; and it didn't help. It wasn't going to help.

It will never help.

"Tali," came the familiarly smooth voice from behind her, snapping her out of her depressing thoughts. Like a light switch, her mood went from depression to business; something she was good at for being able to hide her negative emotions all these years.

"Shepard!" She said, turning to him. "Keelah…I'm sorry for dragging you into Quarian politics."

"Wouldn't be the first time I faced a legal hearing…" Shepard said, crossing his arms. Of course, understanding him innately, she already knew that about him.

"Is that where you got your charisma?" Tali said, in a joking manner, which helped her choke back her hidden tears.

"Honestly: not sure where it came from. The words just came out of my mouth."

Tali nodded. "Either way, I can't tell you how much what you said means to me. No one has ever stood up for me like that. I even told you to let me be exiled, I was willing to take that loss, and yet you still found a way."

"Well, like I said," Shepard went. "I never believed in the lesser evil."

"Yeah," Tali replied. "And now I can appreciate that even more."

"Hm." Shepard nodded, with a smirk, but then turned to a frown and a look of frustration. "That whole trial was insulting. You deserved better."

"You know, you said the same thing back on the Neema," Tali said. "You remembered what I said?"

Shepard chuckled. "Yes," but then his mood turned back again. "But that's why I want to apologize. On the Alerei, I shouldn't have antagonized you like that. You deserved better from me."

Tali raised a three fingered hand to stop him. "Shepard, please. It's okay. I've already forgiven you. Even then I still admire the honesty on your part." In said honesty, their disagreement gave Tali the chance to air out deeply seated frustrations she has had with her self-plight. If Shepard was agreeable; she wouldn't have had that opportunity. In her realization, she was more grateful for that.

"If you say so…" Shepard said. Then there was a short silence between the two, allowing the words they shared to hang in the air. The depression and sadness that Tali had held back was still there, and these cozy feelings around her Captain…damn him… The silence was interrupted by a subtle sniff from Tali's nostril, resembling a sob. This had caught the attention of her Captain, who had eyed her from his folded arm stance. "Are you…will you be okay?"

"I'm fine…" Tali said, quickly turning back to her panel and typing away at her work.

"I…know losing your father must be difficult-"

"I said I'm fine, Shepard. We have a job to do, remember?"

"Of course, It's just…I know what it's like."

Tali stopped typing away at her keypad, and squeezing her eyes shut with a silent exhale from her nostrils.

She knew that.

"Tali…you're more than just my crewmember. Hell, you're more than just a friend." He said. I don't need another father, Shepard…but, you're not making this easy. She stayed silent, however. "I'm just saying, if you need to talk, the door has and will always be open to you." Keelah, my own father wouldn't have done that.

She, again, remained silent, allowing the words to hang in the air. "In any case…" he said, lifting himself off from his resting position on the railing. "I'll let you get back to work. Just…take it easy, alright?" Shepard began to walk away before stopping for one final word. "And Tali? I said you can call me John."

She turned her head toward him, her glowing white eyes atop the black corneas met his piercing blue eyes over white, and they held that gaze for a moment. She went, "John."

John had reluctantly been the one to break this eyelock, and he slowly turned back to his path toward the door with a slow stride. She continued to gaze at his form as he left until the sliding door closed behind him and he was gone, and yet her eyes remained in that direction, perhaps hoping to continue this longing look upon each other.

John…