#; serabellyms / kat / 002

[waywardfeathered]

@serabellyms said: ❝ you've actually made me feel like a person again, like i'm ... normal. ... thank you. ❞ - from Kat, maybe ME3?

in case you didn't know    /    ACCEPTING ↷

A wry smile tugs at his lips. There’s an irony to it: he’s never felt normal, himself. A person, though? Yes, he thinks she’s helped him feel the same, in that. People, actively, made him not a person for years, after they took him from Akuze. For his rescue to be brought on by someone who had gone through the same initial mission gone wrong, both of them having assumed the other dead... and, now, to have been a part of her team through the Collectors, the Omega 4 Relay, and, here, in the height of the war...

The galaxy is going to hell, but he does feel like a person.

❝ You’ve done no less for me, ❞    he says. She’s come so far, since being that 23-year-old on Akuze. He touches her arm, eyes softening. ❝ I know everything is messed up, out there, but... I’m glad you’re the one leading us. It can’t be easy... but I have hope in our chances, because it’s you, at the frontlines. You’ve accomplished incredible things, Kat. I have absolute faith in you. ❞

[dutyworn]

Wren had thought  she was alone.  Seeing Kat was a mixture of relief and dread; she had been far enough Wren couldn’t tell if she was alive or dead, but with most of their team ripped to shreds... The way Wren’s heart had tried to escape from its ribcage as she made her way over, limping, trying not to think of the possibility she would have to carry her sister’s corpse out of here. They may not be blood, but they’re sisters. She can’t lose her.

Cue her words to Kat having been a little frantic, disjointed.

What she’s looking at horrifies her. Kat’s alive, yes, but barely; her armour partially eaten by the thresher maw acid, gods she must be in pain...! Wren stares for a moment, crouched next to Kat, unsure of what to do. It’s a fleeting moment of sheer panic, where she feels none of her trained confidence, where she feels like a lost child more than a soldier and an older sister.

But she forces it to pass. She lifts Kat out of the acid, to safer ground, not caring that she’s getting burnt herself, having lost some pieces of her armour.

Her sister needs her.

Yet there is no way she can be stoic about the answers Kat wants.

❝ I’m sorry, ❞    Wren chokes, shaking her head.    ❝ I couldn’t... Everyone’s gone. ❞    She was flung a long distance by one of the beasts, instead of being dragged under, when Krushnic came to her aid, attacking it. She had lost consciousness, hitting the ground. Coming to, she’d... trudged her way over the massacre, looking for survivors, heart in her throat, thinking she was moments from being killed herself, but the remaining thresher maws had relocated. All there was was... No, she can’t think about it. She has to stay here and now, has to help Kat...

❝ I’m going to turn you over, ❞    Wren says, gently, assertively.    ❝ I need to look at your injuries. I have medigel, but this is probably going to hurt. You’re gonna be OK, though. I’m gonna get you out of here. ❞    Gods, when would anyone come for them? She needs to apply first-aid. Move them to the pick-up zone. Wait for someone. Try to get her comms working.

She’s injured, herself; one arm of her armour is gone as is her helmet; she has half-dried blood all over her hair, still sticky, and her right leg feels so horrible she’s had to force herself to keep walking despite the nauseating shock every step causes her. But she’s not... Kat needs the rest of her medigel. She’s going to make it, she has to make it, Wren refuses to lose anyone else today.

@serabellyms

@dutyworn asked:

“you’re gonna be okay, just hold on.” / for siblingverse!

She didn’t know how long she’d been lying their. Minutes, hours—all of it was a blur. She remembered the ground, shaking—everything, shaking… pain. Burning. It felt like her skin was on fire, so much so that she couldn’t even find the strength to cry out for help. Or perhaps she had–she was just too delirious and blinded by the pain to hear it. Someone was screaming, but Kat couldn’t tell if it was her, or one of their comrades being pulled under by those carnivorous creatures.

There she’d been, after things had calmed down, lying in a pool of acid spit from the thresher maw; her armour was half burned away, and while she was far enough up the mountain that she wouldn’t be dragged under the sand like the rest of their comrades, there was no question she was in critical condition. The pain was making her delirious, but she could hear someone. A voice–one she recognized. At least, she thought she did. Could pain make a person hallucinate?

“Wren?” She croaked, eyes fluttering barely open, though it wasn’t like she could make anything out; her vision was blurry and clouded, and she could barely focus. “The others… did–did anyone else…?” Someone else had to have made it. “Toombs? Krushnic? Schaefer? Voit?” There were fifty of them assigned to the platoon; she and Wren were just two of them. There had to be more of them that lived, right? There was no way all of them died… no way that all of them hadn’t made it out.