#anyway that whole thing reeks of scott and adam

[thecaduceusclay]

do all of us agree that Adam Faulkner-Stanheight and Scott Tibbs probably both like Jackass?

[pfaerie]

vertigo

Pairing: Vetra Nyx/Female Ryder | Sara, Male Ryder/Scott & Female Ryder/Sara Rating: Mature Tags: Romance, Sibling Bonding, Canon Compliant, Oral Sex, Bad Jokes, Protective Big Sisters A/N: Vertigo is the conflict between the fear of falling and the desire to fall. -Salman Rushdie Ao3 Link

Summary Vetra has a kid sibling on the Hyperion too, one that she’s had to leave behind for most of their lives. It doesn’t make it easier, but it’s comforting knowing someone else is feeling the same pain.

She’s twelve and stuck with Scott on a crate in Citadel storage, watching their way back down be moved to the other side of the room by a giant crane. Scott’s predictably freaking out, crying about how if they don’t die up here then Dad is surely going to kill them, not that they can get down anyways. It’s impossible to calm him down when he gets like this, so Sara lets him get it all out for a few minutes as she comes up with a plan.

They’re three containers up, about twenty-four feet from the ground. Sixteen feet from the next storage container down. She figures they can make the...ten foot? Maybe eleven foot jump to the catwalk if they get enough of a running start. It doesn’t look that far.

“Sara...we can’t,” Scott says before she even opens her mouth. He hugs his knees to his chest and presses his forehead against them. “I told you I’m scared of heights. You know I’m-”

“You’re not scared of heights, you’re scared of falling, you big baby,” Sara corrects and Scott glares at her.

“Same difference!” he argues, watching her back herself as far against the edge of the container as possible. His face is red from crying, and now fat tears of frustration are rolling down his cheeks. “Sara, you aren’t going to make it.”

“Shut up, Scott,” Sara says. “What’s the worst that’s gonna happen?”

She doesn’t give Scott a chance to answer, and her heart leaps into her throat as soon as she’s in the air. Adrenaline junkie, just like your father, the Salarian doctor says as he sets her dislocated shoulder later. She didn’t make the jump, and it was hard getting back on her feet, but she was on solid ground and Scott wasn’t. She couldn’t just leave him.

“You shouldn’t have been up there in the first place,” her mother says while Sara’s brushing her teeth with her left hand. Her right shoulder still twinges when she moves it. “And the console! You should have gone straight to an adult! You don’t even have an omni tool yet!”

“Couldn’t leave my little brother behind,” she says through a mouthful of foam and Scott elbows her in the ribs at that.

“By one minute.”

She makes eye contact with her father in the mirror and sees something flicker in his eyes. It’s not pride, but something else. He nods his head at her before turning away and she almost thinks he actually approves of what she did even though it could have gotten the whole Ryder family thrown off the Citadel.

Thought you wanted me to take more leaps, sis, a very drunk, seventeen-year-old Scott says bitterly, his breath reeking of Turian liquor. He’s been like this ever since Mom’s diagnosis, and Sara’s pretty sure if the disease doesn’t kill Mom, then Scott will. Go the fuck to sleep, Scott, Sara says, angrily shoving a bucket into his arms. She sits with him all night because no matter how pissed she is, Scott’s still her baby brother and she knows he’s hurting.

He’s going to regret the red marks that mottle his neck and collarbone in the morning, but she doesn’t think he’ll remember the sleazebag who did it to him, won’t remember the fight she got into for him. Nobody mentions her black eye at breakfast, but she sees that flicker of approval in Dad’s eyes again, sees it again when she graduates bootcamp at eighteen.

Not a fear of heights, but a fear of falling. Scott’s personal mantra, something he whispers to himself when they get their first planetary assignments in the System Alliance at twenty, when Dad asks them to join the Andromeda Initiative at twenty-one, when they’re being queued up for cryostasis at twenty-two. See you on the other side, Scott, she says, punching him softly in the shoulder. I’ll race you, he replies.

She leaves a part of herself behind when Dad tells her to suit up without Scott. His cryopod is damaged and no matter how much SAM reassures her that his vitals are normal, she feels like she’s twelve again. I’ll come back for you, she thinks, hand lingering on Scott’s locker. Her right shoulder still aches.

Sara’s never been afraid of heights, never been afraid of falling. It’s the collision with the ground that’s the worst part, but the body heals. The most important thing is to get back up again, but this time she’s not sure she will, not sure if she even can. The last time she sees her father, there’s that same glint in his eyes. He smiles - actually fucking smiles - at her as he removes his helmet. She can’t hear what he’s saying, just a constant ringing in her ears as her body screams for oxygen.

It’s easy to take a leap when you’re young and dumb and invincible, but Sara Ryder’s died once and now has a fancy self-preservation chip installed in her skull that goes by SAM. He’s adamant about monitoring her vitals and calculating risks, reminding her that she’s mortal and that human beings don’t survive drops more than eighty-four feet, that anything around forty-nine feet is pushing it. It gives her a headache most days, constantly worrying, but she has to stay alive. Not just for her the Tempest crew and the Hyperion population, but for Scott. She can’t abandon him now.

When her brother wakes up, really wakes up, Sara’s never felt so relieved. She wraps him in a tight hug and doesn’t let go even when he slumps against her a little. He’s doing better, but he still can’t move around, can’t leave the med-bay. This time it hurts a little less when she leaves him behind, but at least she knows she won’t lose him. Not this time.

Vetra squeezes her shoulder when she reboards the Tempest. “I know that look,” she says sympathetically. “He’s gonna be okay.” Sara nods, but it doesn’t make leaving any easier. Vetra seems to read her mind. “Don’t think of it like you’re leaving him behind. You’re keeping him safe,” and Sara remembers that Vetra has a kid sibling on the Hyperion too, that she’s had to leave Sid behind for most of their lives.

It doesn’t make it easier, but it’s comforting knowing someone else is feeling the same pain.

Meet me at Sulphur Springs. -V

SAM reports a drop in blood pressure when she’s about halfway up the cliffside Vetra invited her to. When she looks down, her vision stretches and fifty feet looks like a hundred. She’s never experienced vertigo before.

“C’mon! I’ll race you!” Vetra says with a good six-foot head start. “And no jump-jets.”

Sara never backs down from a challenge. “What do I get if I win?”

Vetra goes still, watches as Sara reaches for another hold and hauls herself up. “What would you like?”

“The bad guy defeated, a magic sword…” You, Sara thinks immediately, and fuck it. She’s never filtered herself before. “The girl,” she adds and Vetra’s laugh has her stomach doing flips.

“It’s a good thing you’re losing. I don’t have a magic sword.” The temperature is rising fast with the rising sun, morning dew evaporating in a thick mist. She loses sight of Vetra and a pit forms in her stomach at the thought of being left behind. She’s never been last before.

Her breath comes in heavy pants by the time she reach the top, and it isn’t until she hears Vetra laugh that the world starts spinning again and the realization that Vetra caused the vertigo hits her like a freight train. She’s falling in a way that doesn’t end with dislocated shoulders and broken helmets, but it might end with a broken heart or two if she doesn't do this right.

Her heart fractures when Vetra says, it’s like you...care, as if she can’t fathom anyone caring about her for once and Sara wants to go back six-hundred years to beat some sense into everyone in the Milky Way that would make this beautiful woman feel otherwise. When they wind their hands together, Vetra keeps talking. She’s babbling really, like she thinks Sara is going to say she was kidding about like-liking her and if she just talks long enough then it won’t happen. She acts like it’s inevitable.

Sara kisses her.

Vetra blinks. Once. Twice.

“And how’s that for proving it?” Sara asks when she pulls away. Vetra takes a breath and finally moves, brings a hand up to tuck her hair behind her ear.

“I’m convinced.” And they kiss again and bake in the sun until Kallo reports a distress signal Suvi picked up. Sara has experience falling out of things, hell she’s lost count of how many things she’s fallen out of since they arrived in Andromeda, but this is the first time she’s ever fallen into something so deep.

She doesn’t mean to laugh when Vetra cooks her dinner, but it’s just so sweet that she can’t help it. It reminds her of the time Mom left for a conference and Dad, the AI genius that could do anything, burned the macaroni and cheese to a crisp. Well, who’s up for the Stand? he’d asked a little sheepishly.

It’s a good memory. One of the few she has of Dad being, well, a good dad.

But the way Vetra’s voice cracks when she says, “I know I probably made it wrong,” stings and her heart breaks when she says, “I just wanted to do something nice for you,” and she doesn’t stop there. She’s pouring her heart out, voice shaking like she’s going to cry, and maybe she is crying, and Sara’s never seen a Turian look so small, never seen Vetra, strong, confident, amazing Vetra look so small and vulnerable. “I love you,” she says, and Sara’s falling again, choking on the taste of her own heart in her throat. “I just don’t want to ruin it. I thought…”

Sara’s scrambling to get around the table, to pull Vetra into a tight hug. She’s got her arms around Vetra’s neck, and she’s sure the sight of a 7’ Turian bent in half to be held by a 5’6” human is hilarious to the outside eye, but it feels right. “Nothing’s ruined. It would take a lot to ruin this, Vetra. I love you, too.”

They stand there for a long moment, wrapped in each other's arms until Vetra finally pulls away and straightens up. “Let me make it up to you,” even though there’s nothing to make up.

“Just no more food, please,” Sara laughs.

“No,” Vetra purrs, leading Sara backwards. “I think you’ll like this.” Her legs hit the bed frame, but Vetra holds her close, doesn’t let her fall. She’s lowered onto the mattress gently instead, like she’ll break if she lets her go and Sara thinks she probably would given her track record.

She’s not sure how they got their clothes off or how long it took, but she’s very aware of it when Vetra runs one taloned finger up the length of her body. It gives her goosebumps and it makes Vetra smile. “You humans are so weird,” she says.

“You know how to make a gal feel special,” Sara jokes, hooking her arms around Vetra’s neck, pressing a kiss to her left mandible.

“No, I just meant. Turians don’t...I had to do research,” she admits awkwardly. She buries her face in the crook of Sara’s neck. While she’s never seen a Turian blush, she knows Vetra’s embarrassed enough to do so and that’s enough for her. It makes her feel a little bolder.

“Want to tell me about your research or…” she pauses to kiss the side of Vetra’s head, “put it to use?” The puff of air from Vetra’s laugh tickles.

“Subtle. Message received, Ryder,” and she takes her own sweet time sliding down Sara’s body. She’s like, 96% certain that Turians are cold-blooded, but every little touch burns and every kiss tingles when she pauses at every little mole and scar and mark. Sara’s already squirming when Vetra licks a stripe from her bellybutton down and she can’t help the buck of her hips or the way her feet dig into the mattress.

“Hey,” Vetra says, squeezing her thighs softly. Sara looks down, commits the memory of Vetra’s head being framed by her thighs to memory. “I’m gonna take care of you, alright?” and Sara wants to quip that she’s been taking care of her since before they met, that Vetra Nyx has been looking out for her for months now. She trusts her with her life, hell, she trusts Vetra with more than that.

She doesn’t say any of that, not out loud. And it’s not like Vetra gives her the chance. She does things with her tongue and mandibles that has Sara actually quivering. And holy shit, the flanging in Turian voices isn’t just nice to listen to.

Please, Sara whispers, and she’s sure Vetra would say, you don’t have to beg, if her tongue wasn’t otherwise occupied. Sara was never afraid of falling. There’s a part of her that knows that the fall is the best part, especially when she's falling with someone she loves.

“I thought of a joke while I was doing my research,” Vetra says, and it pulls Sara back to the present. She’s running a hand through Sara’s hair, playing with the strands and scratching at her scalp as she comes back down.

“Oh?”

“It’s really bad. I don’t think I should say it.”

“You were going to make a joke about eating out versus home cooking, weren’t you?”

“No!” Vetra shrieks. There’s a beat of silence. “Yes, I was going to make that joke,” and Sara falls a little more in love.