#i would have flushed him out the airlock within the first week

[rangersbecket]

Lysander was annoying as a kid and he's insufferable as an adult, can you imagine him as a teenager? Cassius might have missed the war, but he's experienced something much worse. Lysander at 15.

[ramblinganthropologist]

MER Week 6 - Pets

Summary: Saren is the cutest little hamster in the world if you ask his owner. However, he is also territorial as fuck and he WILL bite. Grunt’s about to learn that one the hard way. Rule for the wise kid: don’t stick your finger in a hamster’s face.

---

“Shepard.”

“Grunt… hello there.”

Ok… he’d bite. Who brought Grunt up?

Honestly, Alistair was more than a little confused right then. He had expected once they got back to the shuttle that he and the young krogan wouldn’t see much of each other. After all, he was pretty sure he bored Grunt – except for that first time with the gun. Yet there he was, standing in the entrance to his quarters, looking rather uncomfortable.

Was he being punked?

“Still in the elevator, Grunt.”

Bo’s voice called from over his shoulder. Much like a good son would, he shuffled to the side to allow her entrance. Even as large as she was, she was a little on the small side compared to the krogan. That didn’t matter of course – she was well versed in taking them down. It was why she had gone 25-0 in the ring back on Omega.

Well, at least that answered who let him up. Still didn’t answer anything else, mind you. Alistair was left watching as Bo sidled past her son and entered into his quarters. Luckily for him, his sister was direct: whatever was on her mind, he’d hear about it soon enough.

She looked around the room for a second. “Surprised Mandibles isn’t up here. Aren’t you two planning to- “

“He had calibrations to run.” Alistair’s cheeks flushed as he rushed to cut her off. Grunt snickered behind her – asshole. “Anyway, what’s brought you two up here? Everything alright after Tuchanka?”

Nothing like a krogan puberty ritual to get the blood pumping after all. Alistair was going to be having nightmares about that thresher maw for weeks, and that was if he was lucky. On the bright side, he was pretty sure it counted as exposure therapy. That was fine by him; he hadn’t done his therapy homework yet and with his workload he doubted it would happen at all. His therapist was understanding, but she was also a stickler. At least he had something to turn in the next time he saw her.

Much to his surprise, Grunt looked uncomfortable. He shifted from foot to foot, eyes darting around. Dare he say it, but to him he almost looked embarrassed. Apparently, krogan could do that as well as anyone else.

“I could have just looked on the extranet, Shepard…”

Bo shook her head, clearly amused by this. “What’s better than a real-world example? You asked about him anyway.”

She turned back to Alistair. “Grunt wanted to meet Saren after hearing you talk so much about him. Is the little guy awake or do we have to come back later?”

…

“You want to meet Saren?”

His gaze slid from the embarrassed krogan teenager to the wall on the far left. Even before he looked, Alistair had known. He knew the sound of bedding shifting anywhere, practically heard it in his sleep. That alone made him get up and take the trip to what at one time had been an aquarium.

Good thing for him he hated fish – it was perfect to make a hamster enclosure out of.

The theme that month was jungle. Among the scattered green bedding and wood chews, he found a little ball of white sitting next to his food dish, digging through the contents. At the sound of his footsteps, two red eyes focused straight on him, and some food went right into well-adapted cheek pouches.

Saren was a practical hamster like that.

“Hey, little guy.” Alistair smiled as he opened the enclosure and put his hands flat. A few moments later, the hamster was climbing up to rest between his palms, just like they had trained to do. Then he was out, held close as the Spectre returned to his desk. “Someone wants to meet you if that’s ok.”

Saren of course didn’t answer – much as breeding had improved, sentience wasn’t on the list of traits – but his eyes were bright and he seemed calm enough as he sat there, chewing at a seed from his pouch. These were good hamster introduction traits, especially considering who the interested party was.

Grunt didn’t look too impressed though. He gave the hamster a rather blunt look, then glanced over at Bo. When he didn’t get the reaction, he might have been hoping for, it went from pink to red Shepard.

Talk about being in the hot seat.

“Is it supposed to be so small?”

Alistair chuckled as he stroked Saren’s tiny head with his thumb. “Well, the European wild varieties back on earth are much bigger, but they max out at about a foot long. Saren’s a Syrian male, so he’s a fairly decent size all things considered.”

Grunt probably didn’t care about most of that – it wasn’t exactly new. However, his eyes never left the hamster. Saren either hadn’t noticed or didn’t care; he was too busy on chewing away at his seed to pay attention to the krogan. It was a feeling Alistair knew well.

He loved the little guy, but sometimes he ran hot and cold with affection.

“If you want to see him up close, come over slowly. Hamsters are prey animals, so he’s easily spooked.”

Much to his surprise, Grunt listened. He approached the desk slowly, eyes never leaving the small ball of fur in his commanding officer’s hands. He was interested, even if he wasn’t showing it on his face. No surprises there – kids loved hamsters, didn’t matter the species or the fact they were born fully grown and ready to kill. They just did.

“Why did you name it Saren?”

Now Alistair was chuckling again as he watched the hamster continue to chew. “You’re going to have to ask Bo about that, she’s the one who got him for me.”

Bo’s answer came quickly as she observed the introduction. “They said he was a biter and ate a cage mate. Made me think of the real Saren.”

Well, made sense he supposed…

“They eat each other?” Grunt’s tone was definitely more interested with that. Now they were getting somewhere. “That means they fight.”

Alistair nodded as he made sure Saren stayed in his hands. “Yep. They’re fiercely territorial. It’s why you have to house them separately. Hamsters kept together can fight, sometimes to the death even. This little guy had some healed scars when I got him, so he’s been through it. I guess Omega and the Citadel gift shop share husbandry tendencies…”

His voice trailed off. Grunt hadn’t taken his eyes off Saren the entire time he had been talking. There was curiosity there and a raw interest. That made the Spectre smile as he slowly brought his hands within range, eyeing his hamster’s body language the entire time.

“You can say hello if you want, he’s pretty calm right now.”

To his credit, the krogan didn’t retreat. However, there was some definite anxiety there. He briefly glanced back at Bo, and then he returned to keeping his eyes on Saren. Finally, he managed a brief nod and came a little closer.

“Do I just stick my hand out?” A finger got a little too close to Saren. Before Alistair could warn him, the hamster eyed it and did what he always did when someone got into his space without proper caused. Tiny teeth were soon chomped down hard in the classic signs of hamster bite.

It probably wouldn’t hurt a krogan, mind you. They were tough.

“Grunt, don’t pull your hand away. He’ll go with you and he’ll fall.”

The krogan shot Saren a dirty look as he watched the hamster bite down. “That does nothing to me, rodent.”

Saren, naturally, didn’t care. Alistair’s hands were part of his territory. More importantly, Grunt was big and round. Honestly, he wouldn’t have been surprised if the hamster thought he was an overgrown member of his species. Add a little fur, and he could honestly see it. He’d never say that of course – Wrex would hate it.

“He’s just defending what’s his. All he has is his teeth.” Alistair kept his voice level as he gently rubbed the hamster’s head with his thumb. “Come on, buddy, he’s not going to hurt you. You can let go now.”

After a few more moments, Saren let go. He went back to his abandoned seed, but his eyes never left the krogan. Grunt was in a similar mood, eyeing up the hamster with a rather brutal gaze. At least he had the good sense to take his hand back, the offended digit tucked away.

Bo’s voice carried over the chaos. “So… what did you learn, Grunt?”

“Don’t stick my finger in an animal’s face…”

There was a definite sulk to his tone. It was strangely cute, in a weird sort of way. Meanwhile, Alistair was just glad he hadn’t pulled back. Saren may have trusted him, but he would’ve gone for a ride. Then he would’ve had to eject Grunt out the airlock if anything happened.

Was he biased towards his hamster? Absolutely.

“It’s his way of making sure his space is safe. I used to get bit a lot when we were establishing ground rules.” He stood, crossing the room to return Saren to his enclosure in case he was overwhelmed. Much to his surprise, Saren didn’t burrow under the substrate as he often did to hide his food. Instead, he stayed on top, eyeing Grunt. “Huh… how about that.”

Grunt gave Saren the exact same look. “Your hamster’s hungry for battle.”

In another surprise, the krogan smirked. “Shepard was right, Saren is appropriate for a warship.”

Well… there was a stamp of approval he hadn’t seen coming. Maybe pigs would start flying…

Alistair at least managed a nod. “He’s territorial, it’s part of the breed.”

“Don’t sell the little guy short, he took a krogan on full force.” Bo was definitely amused as she surveyed Grunt’s finger. There was a definite scuff there – Saren had left his mark. “Damn, little guy bit down hard. The hell are you feeding him, concrete?”

Oh… just lab block, some seeds, extra protein if the mix didn’t come up right…

“He’s got a nasty bite; I’ll give him that.” And he was also done with the room – Saren was soon digging back under the substrate. “He’ll be out for a while; he has food to hide and some sleep to catch up on.”

His gaze found Grunt soon after. “Well, I hope he lived up to your expectations. If you want to come visit again, just let me know.”

“As long as you don’t try to convert him to the gospel of hamster.”

He made no promises there. Anyone who could be swayed, he would sway. That’s what it meant to have a hamster as cute as Saren.

Still, at least Grunt didn’t seem too upset about the bite as he nodded. Maybe it had taught him not to fuck with small animals -a win in his book. At any rate, it felt as though things were ending.

“I might.” And then he was heading to the door. Soon he was gone, leaving Bo and Alistair alone. As soon as he was out of hearing range, the larger of the two Shepards slumped down on his cough, doing her best not to laugh.

She did alright, but he failed miserably.

“God, that was fucking adorable.” Alistair wiped a tear from his eye as he chuckled. “I mean, apart from when I thought Grunt was going to toss my hamster.”

Bo nodded, snickering a little. “Yeah, he’s been wanting to come up for a while but he couldn’t figure out how to ask you. I agreed to be a buffer after it took him a half hour to spit it out. You might have just converted him to the dark side.”

Apparently, he was a sith now. Just because his face glowed red…

But still. Alistair nodded as he glanced back at the enclosure. He could see Saren’s tail from a gap in the bedding – he was pressed against the glass, no doubt making himself comfortable for a long nap. He’d had a long day after all – he’d just taken on a krogan.

“I think if he’s a little slower next time, they’ll get along just fine. Maybe I’ll give him a couple seeds to try.”

Baby steps, after all. Rome wasn’t built in a day and becoming friends with a hamster was just as detailed and complex. If Grunt put the effort in, he could see them getting along great. Hell, he might even get a new Saren sitter out of it.

He needed one of those. His normal ones went on missions went with him half the time.

“Thanks for letting him try. I knew Saren would be tough enough to handle him, little dude’s from Omega after all.”

Terminus system, born and bred – it was in his DNA. He’d never be as sweet as some hamsters, but that was part of his charm. It made their moments together even more special in his mind, honestly. He’d managed to get an Omega resident to let him pet him – that was a win in his book.

“Just let me know the next time he wants to come up.” Alistair returned to his desk – he still had work to do. “Now, unless you want to work on these reports…”

And just like that, he was alone as Bo beat a quick retreat out the door. He shook his head, chuckling once more as he went back to his reports. Still, he kept an eye on the glass enclosure across from him. Somewhere inside, the toughest hamster Omega ever bred was enjoying his rest. Maybe he was dreaming of fighting krogan, who knew?

One thing was for sure – they had definitely started on Grunt’s conversion to the dark side. Excellent. He had wanted an apprentice one day.

[leiainhoth]

Work summary: For so long, Din fought the reality of giving the child up, giving him to the jetii and moving on. He had prepared for it, packed a bag and left it all behind, so his son could have the life he deserved. All until he didn't have to. Or the one where Luke rescues Grogu on Tython, and Din rescues Luke in return.

Chapter summary: Din, Luke and Vanth meet with the Marshal of Mos Espa; they meet unexpected allies and face unprecedented dangers.

...

Luke's eyes widened, his heart beating wildly in his chest. His companions' thoughts and feelings littered his surface consciousness, and Luke fought to push past them. The Mandalorian was frozen beside Luke, his thoughts shifting rapidly from one to another. Behind him, tucked in the cloth bag the baby travelled it, Grogu was afraid, confused by the sudden burst of anxiety from his father. Luke sent a wave of calm to the child, hoping beyond hope that he wouldn't raise a fuss and make his presence obvious.

Luke looked over at Vanth, his expression wide and afraid, his hand frozen on the butt of his blaster. Luke had suspected that the Marshal was frightened of Fett; his reaction to Luke's vision was telling of just how much havoc his reappearance could reap on Tatooine. What would become of places like Mos Pelgo with a front-loaded crime syndicate on their planet? What would become of the Tuskens should Fett grow tired of them?

Luke had heard of this and worse from the Alliance before Leia had killed Jabba all those years ago. He had seen for himself the way the Hutt's dealt with their enemies, how they were the go-between, the middlemen for crime syndicates spanning the galaxy. Tatooine was a quiet place, a backwater planet far out of scope for many. It was dangerous, but most places were this far into the Outer Rim. And despite what he felt, what he thought and the bad memories surrounding Tatooine, it was his home. This was where he was from, and now that he'd returned, he'd be damned if he didn't defend it.

Luke squeezed the Mandalorian's wrist and took a step forward, levelling his stance and holding his lightsaber hilt with a loose grip. "You're trespassing here,"

Fett scoffed, his voice achingly deep and familiar behind the helmet's modulator. "Skywalker,"

"Fett," Luke said, hoping his voice sounded more the Jedi master and less the Tatooine farmboy. "Where is the Marshal?" Luke continued, putting a mild influence through his voice.

"Just here," a voice sounded from behind Fett. Luke turned to look as a figure rose from the head of the table and removed their hood. "I'm well, there's no need for animosity,"

"Are you well?" Vanth asked, his voice entreating and careful. "Can you speak freely?"

"Yes," she said, dusting off her robes. She was tall, with a broad face. But her eyes were kind, and when Luke focused, she was calm, relaxed. She hadn't been forced or coerced. Whatever it was that she was doing with Fett, she had chosen to do it freely.

"You have nothing to fear from her, little  jetii,"  Fett said, crossing his arms over his chest, his body turned towards Luke. "The Marshal is not being held against her will," he continued, pressing a closed fist against his breastplate. "On my honour,"

From beside him and within, through their bond, his companion pushed towards Luke with intention. Their bond was so new, and even with physical touch to ground it, Luke felt a flush of resolve as the Mandalorian pressed his thoughts into Luke's mind.

Don't be afraid; let him speak.

" Su cuy'gar, vod,"  his companion said carefully, taking another step forward.

" Su cuy'gar,"  Fett replied companionably, taking the Mandalorian's forearm when it was offered.

"Skywalker had a vision of you retaking the syndicate on Tatooine," the Mandalorian said, his voice steady despite the rush of uncertainty Luke felt through their bond. "We have come to confirm your intentions."

Fett levelled his gaze towards the Mandalorians, and Luke felt the intensity of his glare behind the visor.

"I've retaken the syndicate; that much is true," Fett said, releasing his grip. "But the old way is gone. I am the king of an empire in my name. You have nothing to fear from me."

Luke shifted his feet, unsettled for reasons he had no explanation for.

"I meant what I said,  vod,"  Fett said, taking a step closer to the Mandalorian, and Luke struggled to stay still and not ignite his sabre, no matter how much he wanted to. "You returned my armour; I owe you a debt. You needn't have run from me; I could've helped you,"

"Skywalker is afraid of you," the Mandalorian said, the bite in his tone painfully apparent. And then, "You worked for the Empire,"

Fett nodded and then did something that Luke didn't expect and removed his helmet. The face beneath it was startling, mottled with scar tissue and burns. But his eyes were levelled and sincere. Beside him, he felt his companion tense and turn away, a burst of shock blinding Luke through their bond. Luke turned, but the Mandalorian averted his gaze, his body tight and unresponsive to Luke's touch.

"In regards to your  jetii ,  vod,  Solo sent me tumbling into a sarlaac pit. I was trapped for days, slowly digested and up to my neck in poison. I'd say our grievances are shared, but unnecessary. I hold no hard feelings for the boy,"

"Then why have you come?" Luke shot back.

Fett shifted his feet, holding his helm loosely under his arm. Three of his guard stood ready behind him, armed and ready, but the woman Luke had noticed on  Slave I  was curiously absent. "Because I wish to offer my assistance. Tatooine has nothing to fear now that the syndicate is under my hand."

"Have you occupied Mos Espa?" Vanth asked.

"No," Fett said, his buckles on his armour jangling as he shifted his weight. He stopped, the t of his visor turning towards Vanth with something peculiar in his stance. "Cobb Vanth— you had my armour,"

The air of the room cooled in an instant, becoming tense and still. Luke pressed a finger into the Mandalorian's pulse point, sending waves of calm and peace to both of his companions. He felt their fear and let it roll over him like the wind, flitting through his thoughts and emotions before releasing it. Fear wouldn't serve them, not here.

"Bought it off some Jawas," Vanth said, standing tall and strong. There was a touch of something in his tone, not quite… not embarrassed, sheepish? Boba Fett's armour was legendary; Luke would've known it the moment he saw it. But someone like Vanth, how could he have known? The Mandalorians were almost extinct; armour and a jetpack to Vanth were just that, tools he could use to survive. And he had treated it well from what his companion had told him, relinquishing it with honour when their deal was complete. Fett's armour had been repainted, the  beskar  olive green, maroon, and golden, the majority of the scuff marks and blaster residue wiped away. His vision had been startlingly accurate, down to the last detail.

"It was my father's armour before it was mine," Fett said, his words firm but not unkind. "I'm grateful to see it returned. You have my thanks."

The air lifted as if sucked through an airlock, leaving Luke feeling unsteady and breathless. Was this what he had been so afraid of?

Fett worked for the Empire,  Luke thought, fighting to steady his increasingly unsettled thoughts.  He worked for Vader, he's a king, the leader of the syndicate…  Luke tried to steady his heart rate, to not confuse kindness with morality.

And despite what I feel, Fett's no friend of mine.

"We've come to warn the Marshal," Luke said, his voice steady and calm. He sent another wave of resolve to the Mandalorian before turning towards Fett. "We came to warn her about you retaking the syndicate."

Fett levelled his gaze on Luke, but he held his gaze, refusing to back down first.

"Have you ill intentions for the Marshal or its inhabitants?"

"If you want to know my business, you will," Fett replied. "But I have matters to take care of, signing a treaty and securing peace in Mos Espa. I hold no animosity towards you or your companions. I keep my word,"

"And what word is that?" the Mandalorian asked, and Fett chuckled, his face steady.

"Been following you,  vod ," he said, crossing his arms. "You're a tough man to find,"

Luke stopped short, his breath heavy in the air. This whole time, their entire journey… Fett had been looking for them this  whole time?

"I had people looking, of course," Fett continued, looking over at the Mandalorian with a blank expression. "Mercenaries and hired guns, but mostly Fennec. She's been tailing you since you left Mos Pelgo,"

"Our deal was complete," the Mandalorian said. "You protected the child and reclaimed your armour. Our business is our own; you could have left with honour,"

"Fennec was discreet, as you remember," Fett continued. "I've heard whispers since returning to Tatooine, rumours. I wanted to discover for myself if they were true."

"What is your business in Mos Espa?" Luke said sharply.

"Same as you, I'd expect," Fett said. "Supplies and a stiff drink. There has been talk of Imps, I came to investigate,"

The Mandalorian tensed, drawing the cloth bag behind him almost if by instinct. The child had been silent and still, but Luke could see the curve of a green ear before he was tucked behind his father's cape.

"And I've since heard rumours that the Imps are after a baby," Fett said, and Luke's eyes snapped up to meet his companions, who froze, one hand clutching the strap of Grogu's carrier. "A child who escaped capture on Tython a week ago on my ship, which has since been discovered on Tatooine."

Fett let his helmet fall to the table with a thump, his expression heavy. "I swore to protect the child in exchange for my armour. I mean you no ill will. But the imperials are coming, and it's past time that you were gone,"

"I have no transport," the Mandalorian said, enunciating carefully as if he was frustrated, irate. "We can't leave,"

"Behind the arena, there is a maintenance bay," the Marshal said quickly, rising from her seat and making steps towards Luke and the Mandalorian. "It is old; I cannot guarantee that it will start— it's a relic, a transport from the Clone Wars. But if it does, take it and leave with my thanks. Your cause in coming here was noble," her eyes caught the satchel, and Luke stepped in front of the Mandalorian, shielding the child from view. "And it won't be forgotten,"

Luke turned to face his companions, realizing with a grim sort of satisfaction that many matched his own. He was fearful, apprehensive. Would Fett keep his word? Surely, his coming to Mos Espa and his appearance on Tatooine was not the ill omen they thought it was. His intentions were noble, intentional. Careful, even. Luke took a step towards the table and moved the loose flimsi aside; there were bills of trade, receipts, lists of known contacts. Fett may have been a bounty hunter, a criminal, an imperial sympathizer. Surely he had been on Vader's payroll. But now? Perhaps he wasn't any of those things.

"I misjudged you," Luke said finally, clipping his sabre on his belt with an air of finality. For the first time in his adult life, maybe for the first time  ever,  Luke felt tall in his stance, sure in his footing. Fett wasn't here for the child; he was here to protect him. He was here to reforge Tatooine in his image, and whoever Boba Fett was now, he was an ally and no enemy of theirs.

Luke felt a hand, gentle and entreating, grip his wrist. The Mandalorian's stance was open, but his grip tightened as Luke turned. "It's time to leave,"

"Fennec is outside," Fett said, turning to Luke with his helmet re-donned. "She has your supplies. We'd better get moving,"

continued

[nonbinarydeedee]

Not Capable of Love - Android Traitor!Deedee X Emmet - 1/3

Aaaa, here's an emmdee fic I've been working on for a little! I'm super happy with it rn, here's the first part for yall and the others should be released within this week.

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Androids were not built to feel. They were built to work. It was as simple as that. Any signs of feelings were a glitch, an easy fix most of the time.

The android sent to replace Deedee Dawkins knew this. It had been created for the sole purpose of wearing her skin and clothes, taking her personality and backstory for itself, and killing any Astrocitizens that escaped after the attack. Not before gaining information, of course. Deedee- the android would for now on be referred to as the killed human- was programmed for this. Nothing could go wrong.

Unless a glitch happened, of course. But what were the odds? She had calculated herself, they were incredibly small. No need for worry.

The first fourteen days went by smoothly. Maegan Mann was assigned Captain after the explosion, and she was good. Emmet and Baby, the other two survivors, were quiet and friendly. They would trust Deedee fast.

Day fifteen was when the rather disastrous landing on Robotofu took place. Deedee was injured- well, not truly injured, but blood placed on the layer under the skin and faking pain made it seem so. Baby was too, and Maegan was rather flustered. She sent Emmet out immediately, telling him the plan as she helped Deedee patch herself up with the medkit and apologized to Baby. Deedee's report of this to her programmers caused them amusement.

Day twenty-two was when Deedee became suspicious. Not of her crewmates, but of herself. Something felt wrong. She reported it as a bug in her physical touch module, which was recorded, but nothing could be done. Fixing it herself risked early exposure, and her programmers were still on Earth so they couldn't help. The odd sensation in her stomach area would need to wait. Why it specifically triggered around Emmet was a different question and problem entirely that Deedee chose not to ponder.

Day twenty-six: the day of the realization that the glitch may be more serious than originally thought. The day started the same as usual, but then Deedee decided to approach Emmet. They had friendly conversation before the subject turned in an… odd direction.

“Say, um… Deedee.” Emmet's smile remained but he appeared more serious. Deedee cocked an eyebrow.

“Yeah?” The strange feeling in Deedee felt as though it was being tugged.

“If I ask something a bit, uh, weird… would you not think too badly of me?” Emmet scratched their beard as he said this. A very broad question, Deedee processed.

“Not really sure what- what you mean but, uh, alright.” Deedee hadn't meant to stutter. Another malfunction?

“I… I was wondering…” Emmet's voice lowered, and he showed signs of embarrassment as he continued with, “…what’s your thoughts on, erm, love?” Deedee blinked and mumbled something nonsensical.

“I- what? I mean-" She hadn't meant to say any of that. Not at all. “It’s… okay, I guess? Never been in love myself, but I’m sure it’s nice.” That was better.

“Yeah. S-same, I suppose.” Emmet looked down and fumbled with their fingers. Deedee looked away and did a quick check of her body. She discovered that her face was ruby red, without her choosing to make it so. She scampered into her own seat and tried to process this.

It clicked the next morning.

Odd feeling in chest and stomach. Drawn to a certain person. Blushing and stuttering without meaning to. A general happy yet nervous emotion.

All human symptoms of so-called love.

Deedee hadn't had an extreme amount of time with other androids, but she'd heard stories of androids experiencing feelings. How sadness and guilt at a death caused a refusal to kill. How fear caused too slow reactions. How pleasure caused unwillingness to leave what the android enjoyed. But there had never been a story of a feeling as rare and dangerous as love.

But it wasn't necessarily love, right? It could just be several separate bugs. Maybe she was created and sent out in a rush, causing below average programming. Of course it wasn't love, the odds of that were far too small. And consequences far too dangerous.

Awkwardness continued between Deedee and Emmet. And the glitches- very similar ones to the first scenario- kept happening. Deedee hadn't reported them. Finally, she was sent out on an expedition- day thirty- and she was able to think straight while she wandered. Eventually, she devised a plan.

It was rather clear that Emmet loved her, even if Deedee didn't because she wasn't capable of it. If she became romantically involved with him, she could obtain even more information for her programmers through him. He wouldn't suspect her thanks to the combined effect of all the glitches making the romance appear requited. The question, Deedee knew, was how to start the relationship. Day thirty-five she returned, but still unsure on how to talk to Emmet. That night’s report was the last long one she ever sent, only because of her new information on Robotofu's surface. She didn't like giving information on the others anymore.

Day forty. Emmet approached the undiscovered traitor. He said he wanted to speak to her alone. Deedee agreed. Emmet's tall form was hunched over in the airlock and their face was flushed.

“So… uhm. Deedee. I… need to confess something to you.” Deedee blinked up at him and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Yeah? What… what is it?” She already knew. But she couldn’t say it herself.

“I…” Emmet took a breath in. “I think… I’ve developed feelings for you, Deedee.” Was he shaking? Deedee lowered her arms, thinking of a response.

“You mean… you mean romantic feelings?” she mumbled. That was an awful response. Of course it was romantic. Emmet didn't look at her.

“I… yes. I’m- I’m sorry, I couldn’t keep it in anymore, I know you probably don't-" Deedee hugged him before he could finish. She had her head between their shoulder and chest, hugging their back. Emmet's arms raised to their sides.

“I was too scared to say anything myself,” Deedee whispered. It hurt, because it was true. It wasn’t supposed to be true.

“You…” Slowly Emmet's arms wrapped around Deedee. “So, you… feel the same?” Deedee gripped Emmet tighter.

“Of course I do,” answered Deedee. She looked up at him. She turned off all of her scanners and censors, so that Emmet and the walls of the airlock were all she could see. For a minute or so, the two held each other. Both mumbling about how they had been scared, how they were so happy the other felt the same. But as they left the airlock and refused to tell Maegan what they had discussed, one fact echoed in Deedee, something she had only now realized.

I’m going to have to kill him.

[saintbellamys]

a beam in darkness: let it grow.

canon divergent season 6 finale one-shot in which Clarke gives up and Bellamy fights for her. cw: character death; suicidal ideation; depictions of violence

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The sound of a ship taking off made Bellamy’s blood run cold. The group of them crouching in the cramped metal crate froze, exchanging horrified looks.

Someone was going back to space. And there was a good chance that Clarke and the others were on that transport.

A sick feeling bloomed in the pit of Bellamy’s stomach. Clarke’s position was already so precarious – literally hinging on whether or not no one guessed she was an impersonator. And even if she pulled it off – when were they coming back? What if she got caught in the inevitable conflict up in space? And what about the others with her, if there were others? If they were all still alive?

He’d just gotten her back.

He wasn’t ready for this again. One on the ground, one in space.

That wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

He clenched his hands into fists, his nails digging into the soft skin of his palms. He wanted to scream. He wanted to rest. He didn’t want anyone else to die.

“Hey,” Echo’s voice rasped next to him. He looked up to see her crouching beside him, slowly lowering herself to sit hip-to-hip by him on the dirty floor.

“We’ll make it through this,” she reassured him, her hand rubbing his forearm. “We always do.”

“But it’s never all of us that make it, is it?” Bellamy replied bitterly, running a hand down his face.

“Clarke knows what she’s doing. She’s smart.” Echo’s voice was cool, neutral. Bellamy wasn’t sure if he detected any jealous undertones in her words or not.

Because she had reason to be. And Bellamy hated himself for it.

Right now was a really, really bad time to do this. But he had to.

He’d tried so hard to make it work. He felt like he owed it to a person who’d stuck by him for over three years now. With someone he’d known for over half a decade.

But the truth is, he’d only talked himself into finding love again because he thought he’d lost her forever. He thought he’d left her to go up in flames. He used to have nightmares of watching her turn to ashes, lost on the wind.

He’d never really forgiven himself for it. But it had been hard to live with alone.

Echo comforted him. He’d loved her, even. But never enough to erase the shadow that Clarke had left on his heart.

Bellamy wasn’t sure that he even deserved happiness anymore, but he realized that he was too selfish now to keep pushing it away.

And he couldn’t reach for that happiness if he was still with another person.

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Even now, he still might never see Clarke again. But that wasn’t what mattered right now, not in this specific situation.

What mattered is that he couldn’t keep being unfair to Echo.

Bellamy’s jaw worked. He didn’t know what exactly he was going to say. He just knew that he had to say it.

“Echo,” he said suddenly, exhaustion breaking his voice. He kept his tone low enough so that the others couldn’t hear him over the din of chaos outside the walls.

He reached for her hand. “I know this isn’t a good time – at all – but there’s something you need to hear.” He took a deep breath, finding himself unable to meet her eye. “I can’t – I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

A beat passed, and he felt her hand withdraw from his.

“I know,” she said, her voice gravelly. “I’ve known for a while now.” A humorless laugh escaped her lips. “Something’s always been…not quite right with us, at the heart of things, hasn't it? Maybe we were only together by default. Trapped by time and space and limited options.”

Bellamy’s shoulders slumped in relief. He didn’t have it in him to fight.

“Besides,” Echo continued, looking away from him. “I’ve seen the way you look at her.”

Bellamy sniffed, suddenly uncomfortable again.

He didn’t know how to apologize for being in love with someone to the person he was supposed to be in love with.

“Echo, I’m-”

She put up a hand to stop him. “It’s okay, Bellamy. Your heart leads you wherever it leads you.” Echo shifted, tucking her hair back over her shoulder. “And I think we’ve all been through too much now to deny our hearts much of anything.”

Bellamy sighed. He didn’t feel like he should be let off the hook this easily, but he wasn’t going to try and make anything harder than it already was.

He reached over to her knee, squeezing it one last time.

. . .

“Josephine, Simone, hold your fire,” Russell commanded at Clarke’s side, alarmed at the sight of so many weapons being leveled at him.

Indra’s eyes darted across the scene in front of her.

“Abby, what are you doing?” Her eyes lingered on the gun Abby’s body was holding to Raven’s head.

“Abby is gone,” Simone said in a cool tone, narrowing her eyes. “This is my body now. Now lower your weapon, or I’ll put a bullet in this one’s brain.”

Clarke’s heart thudded wildly in her chest. There were so many layers of disaster going on here, and her mind was scrambling on how to get out of them.

“These bodies may be those of who you once knew,” Russell spoke up again, “But those people are no longer in them. They are lost to you.” He nodded to Simone. “This body now hosts the mind of my wife.” He nodded to Clarke. “And this, of my daughter. I know you might be angry about this, but please try to understand that we ultimately come here in peace.”

Clarke saw the disbelief and anger growing on the faces of the army in front of her. This was about to get really messy, really fast.

“It doesn’t look that way,” Indra spit out, raising her weapon higher.

Suddenly, Raven ripped her gag from her mouth with her manacled hands.

“Shoot her,” she commanded hollowly to Indra, angry tears running down her face.

Before anyone else could react, Indra did, following Raven’s order.

Bile rose in Clarke’s throat as she watched blood seep from the chest of her mother’s body, Simone wordlessly falling to the floor. Her eyes went glassy, blood leaking from her mouth. Indra was an efficient killer.

This was the second time Clarke had experienced the death of her mother today.

She bit down on her tongue so hard that she tasted coppery blood in her mouth.

Russell’s face flushed purple, the gun in his hand shaking as he remained standing behind Madi.

Too late, Clarke recognized the look on his face.

“You don’t play nice? Then neither will we,” he barked, slamming the button to open the door behind him and firing his pistol into the back of Madi’s head.

Clarke’s knees gave out from under her as she collapsed to the floor, her gun falling from her hand.

Maybe she was hallucinating again. So much of the last few weeks hadn’t been what they seemed.

Maybe this wasn’t real either.

Not real.

Not real.

Before anyone could move, Russell dragged Madi’s body backward, tossing her into the airlock and quickly pressing the button again.

Clarke screamed, lunging forward. Too late. Always too late.

Muffled in her ears were the sounds of others shouting, too. Clarke’s hands landed in the pool of blood on the floor – Abby’s mixed with Madi’s. Her mother's mixed with her child's. Another gunshot rang out somewhere above her.

Too late again.

Russell had pushed the button to open the outer door of the airlock before Niylah had shot him in the heart.

Madi’s body wasn’t on the other side of that door anymore.

There was no Madi’s body anymore.

Russell thudded to the ground next to her, his eyes motionless and unseeing.

Clarke, heaving, wished the same for herself.

By now, no one left on the ship thought that Clarke was still Josephine.

They laid down their arms.

“Clarke,” Raven sobbed, next to her. “Clarke, get up.” Clarke barely heard her for the ringing in her ears.

Raven’s hands pushed against her shoulders, up away from the ground. Shaking, Clarke stared down at her hands. Absolutely drenched in dark, inky blood.

The blood of the last of her family.

No, not the last, a faint, faltering whisper in her heart told her.

“Clarke, you’re in shock,” Niylah told her, suddenly there within the commotion around her. “You need to get up.”

From another side, Gaia shook her shoulder. Clarke felt teardrops falling on the rough fabric of her coat.

“We need to go back down there, Clarke.”

Clarke’s vision was going in and out of focus. She didn’t care what they did. She didn’t care about anything right now.

“Clarke, what was your plan for Sanctum after this?” Raven asked, her voice still thick with tears.

A sliver of irritation scraped at Clarke’s insides. What did Raven care what Clarke wanted to do? Raven hated Clarke’s decision-making. Raven blamed Clarke’s decision-making. Why was she asking now?

Clarke finally lifted her head, staring blankly up at the people standing around her.

She had nothing left to say.

Gaia, her cheeks shining with tear tracks, seemed to realize this first.

“I’ll fly us back down,” she said. “We need to take as many fighters down with us as we can if we want to make it through the affected citizens and get back to the others. The toxin should have evaporated by now, but that doesn’t mean people still won’t be under its influence.”

Motions blurred around Clarke as she found herself ushered back to the transport ship. She was surrounded on all sides with both members of the army and the people she’d just come up here with.

But not all of them.

“Float the other two bodies as well,” she thought she’d heard Indra say.

That was fine. She didn’t want to look at any more death. She knew there would be even more of it to see back on the ground.

Always so much death.

Even when she wasn’t commanding it, she couldn’t escape it.

She could escape it, it seemed, only by joining it.

She was glad she’d collected her pistol from the ground before she’d been sent back to the transport.

Clarke didn’t want any more of her people to die. But she couldn’t find anything left inside herself to try and fight.

There was no one else left, on earth or in space, that she truly belonged to.

Bellamy had Echo.

Spacekru had made it clear how little she mattered to them a long time ago. The condemnation, the betrayal – no matter how many times she’d fought to save them, she’d sacrificed to save them – it felt like they simply saw her now as an old, worn out doll. A broken one, only taken off the shelf and noticed when she could serve some kind of utilitarian purpose.

And maybe that really was all she was good for.

She’d failed so many others.

Hurt built up like pressure in her chest, in her stomach, in her eyes, in her brain. It was too much. This was all too much.

With a shuddering breath, she burst into tears, drawing the attention of everyone else in the transport.

She was too exhausted to feel embarrassment. Only pain.

She couldn’t get air into her lungs. She wheezed, sobs wracking her body violently. Everyone around her avoided her eyes.

They understood. But they didn’t move to offer her any comfort.

It didn’t matter. She wasn’t sure anyone could.

She felt the ship prepare to land.

She wasn’t going to fight anymore.

When everyone else began to disembark, Clarke didn’t move. No one said anything to her as they left her, slumped against the ship wall.

. . .

Bellamy thought he would explode with worry by the time the doors to their crate opened.

“Thought you’d be in here,” Gabriel shouted into the metal shipping container that held them all. Behind him stood Murphy and Emori, looking a little worse for wear.

“Sorry it took so long,” Emori’s voice rang out. “We couldn’t cross the courtyard until the crowd had…thinned itself out a little bit.”

“What happened? We heard a ship taking off,” Octavia asked frantically, leaping to her feet. Her nerves were shot, too.

“It’s back. They’re out there fighting against those affected by the toxin.” Octavia’s eyes widened. “They’re not aiming to kill,” Emori jumped in, seeing her face. “Just wound. To be honest, everyone already fighting each other knocked out a lot of the work.”

“Where’s Clarke?” Bellamy’s lips moved before his mind caught up with what he was saying.

Murphy ducked his head self-consciously. “We haven’t seen her. Or Madi. We know they both got on the ship, but after that, no idea.”

“They killed Abby,” Gabriel interrupted, looking at Bellamy. “She realized it just before they got on the ship. She still held her cover.”

A pang coursed through Bellamy’s chest. Another person that Clarke loved, lost.

He had to find her and Madi. Now.

“Go, Octavia said behind him suddenly. “Find them. We’ll be fine.” The others around her nodded. Bellamy met his sister’s gaze. He thought he recognized the girl who she used to be somewhere in those eyes. But he wasn’t sure if that was possible anymore.

He hoped it was.

He hoped they could get past this one day.

But for now, he had to find the rest of his family.

. . .

Bellamy skirted the courtyard, crouching and running from shadow to shadow.

He wasn’t there to fight.

He searched the crowd hungrily for Clarke’s wavy, silver-gold hair. She wasn’t anywhere.

Up the spiral stairs and near the stained glass, he recognized a familiar silhouette wavering in the shadows.

Raven.

Bellamy hoped that she would know something.

Circling the perimeter, he darted up the stairs, stopping only to sucker-punch one rogue fighter who’d come barreling toward him.

“Raven,” he hissed, slipping into the darkness beside her.

Raven jumped. “God, you scared me,” she muttered, slinging one arm around his neck in a quick hug.

Pulling back, Bellamy noticed the puffiness around her eyes. The red skin shining where she’d rubbed tears away.

His insides plummeted.

“Where are Clarke and Madi?” He asked urgently, shuffling from one foot to the other.

Raven’s dark eyes bored into his, something like a sickness in them.

“Madi’s dead, Bellamy.” Raven’s voice scratched in her throat. “Russell killed her. He shot her in the head and floated the body. Right in front of all of us.” Raven wiped a stray tear from the corner of her eye. “Abby’s gone too.”

Bellamy’s gut twisted, turmoil shooting through his veins. Madi was gone. Shot to death right in front of Clarke’s eyes.

But Raven hadn’t said anything about Clarke.

“Raven.”

Her eyes snapped back to his.

“Where is Clarke?”

Raven put her head in one of her hands. “She didn’t get up when the rest of us left the transport ship. I don’t think she had it in her.”

Bellamy’s sluggish heartbeat picked back up, racing toward a double-time pulse.

“She’s okay?”

Raven’s voice went flat. “She’s not hurt, Bellamy. But I don’t think she’s okay.”

“Then why didn’t anyone stay with her?” Bellamy ground out. “She shouldn’t be alone.” Not waiting for a response, he turned on his heel, racing inside.

Bellamy ran through the corridors, adrenaline pounding through every vein in his body.

You didn’t just leave someone alone after they’d watched their family die within hours of each other.

He slammed his fist into the button to open the transport bay doors, a frustrated growl bubbling up his throat as he willed it to go faster.

Finally, he saw the silver-golden head, tilted back against the wall of the transport.

It had the barrel of a gun held to it.

“Clarke,” he shouted, hurtling toward her. “STOP.”

Her eyes, swollen and soaking wet, opened, searching for him.

He fell to his knees next to her, ripping the gun from her hand, yanking the clip out of it and throwing both across the room.

He felt like he might be sick.

He knelt in front of her, grabbing her face with both of his hands. Not letting her turn her head away.

He’d spent a lot of time protecting Clarke from people pointing a gun at her.

He never thought that one day, that person would be herself.

Clarke grabbed both of his wrists, pulling them away from her. She fell forward onto her hands and knees, hyperventilating.

The scream that ripped from her throat and pierced the air ripped through him, too.

As tears welled in his eyes, he noticed that Clarke’s hands were coated with dried, black blood.

It wasn’t hers.

“Clarke,” he said again, his voice sticking in his throat.

Weeping, she turned her head toward him. She’d screamed so hard that blood vessels had broken in the whites of her eyes.

Bellamy pulled her into his chest, and this time she let him, her whole body shaking as she sobbed. He held her tight – maybe too tight – his heart slamming against his ribcage with terror.

Clarke had almost killed herself.

He wished that, in holding her like this, he could absorb pain that had become too much for just one body.

“I want to die,” she whimpered, her voice gasping, full of tears and not enough oxygen.

“Don’t say that,” Bellamy whispered into her hair, crying. “No. No. No. No,” her murmured over and over.

“I’ve done so many terrible things,” she cried. “And everyone I love – I keep losing them and losing them and I-” her voice trembled, cracking. “I don’t want to ruin things anymore. I don’t want to hurt anymore.”

“I’m not losing you again,” he choked out, his body shaking now too. “I need you, Clarke.” He repeated what he’d told her a few days ago, knowing that she probably didn’t hear him the first time. “Other people need you.”

“Those are lies,” she wheezed, pushing away from him. “You survived without me for 6 years. You and everyone else in space. Madi needed me. And Madi is gone,” she shuddered. “No one needs me anymore. No one wants me.”

“That’s not true,” Bellamy insisted, grabbing her upper arms. “Look at me, Clarke. Don’t think that a single hour of a single day went by up on the Ark where I wouldn’t have given anything to have you up there with me.” Clarke gazed back up at him, her eyes glazed with thick tears.

“And just because I survived doesn’t mean I didn’t need you. Doesn’t mean I didn’t want you.”

Clarke squinted up at him, a tremor in her chin. “You had Echo. You have Echo.” Clarke wrung her hands. “I don’t have anyone left.”

“Bullshit,” Bellamy spat out. “I don’t know if you noticed, Clarke, but Echo isn’t the one I abandoned everyone else for and literally brought back to life with my bare hands. Not to mention, she and I just ended things tonight.” Seeing tears stream down her face, his heart thumped sickeningly against his ribcage again. “Clarke,” he continued, softening his voice. “You called me on the radio every day for 6 years, then left me in the fighting pits to die. If someone isn’t needed or wanted anymore, it’s pretty obvious that it’s me.”

Clarke’s tears began to flow fast again. “And that was the worst mistake of my life. And I’m sorry.” She sucked in another gulp of hair, her lungs rattling. “So many mistakes. I don’t deserve to live anymore.”

“You can’t say that, Clarke,” Bellamy panicked. He reached for her hands, lacing his fingers through hers. “None of us is innocent. But you’ve savedus all so many times. Not just us, but hundreds of others. People you don’t even know.”

“And how many have I lost? How many have I gotten killed? How many have I killed?”

“It’s never been easy, Clarke. But you deserve to live. All of us do.”

Clarke bowed her head. “I just don’t want to anymore,” she whispered faintly. Slowly, she met his gaze. Staring listlessly back up at him. Confusion welled up in Bellamy. What was-?

Quick as lightning, Clarke ripped the knife that Bellamy had strapped to his belt from its holster.

She was fast, but Bellamy was faster.

“I won’t let you,” he shouted, knocking it out of her hand. Letting out a wail, Clarke scrambled on her hands and knees toward it, the handle spinning on the cold metal floor.

Grabbing her from behind, Bellamy wrapped his arms around her middle, pulling her back flush against him as she tried to break free, wriggling and clawing. After a moment, the fight seemed to leave her body like a puff of smoke, and she went limp in his arms.

She began to cry again, brokenly, as she tucked her face against his throat.

“Shh, shh,” he soothed. “I’m here, I’ve got you,” He murmured in her ear, his own tears still dripping down his nose.

“I know it’s hard, Clarke. I know.” He kissed the side of her head. He felt a little heartsick himself. “And I know that-” his voice cracked. “I know that you don’t want to go on right now, but I want you to, okay?” Bellamy lowered them down, leaning back against the wall as she sank down between his knees.

“I want you to. So can you try, for me?” After a long pause, Bellamy felt a slight nod of her head rustle against his sweater. Bellamy’s shoulders shook as he exhaled. “I know it’s selfish of me, but I want you here. So please, do it for me if you can’t do it for yourself. You’ve always been good at putting others before yourself,” he added, trying and failing to smile.

“You don’t have to save the world tonight, Clarke. We can just stay here. I think you’ve earned a time-out. I think you earned one a long time ago.”

Slowly, Clarke’s sobs grew quiet as she leaned against his chest. Bellamy stroked the waves of her short hair, keeping his touch-feather light. Hoping she would sleep.

When she finally dozed off, Bellamy let loose of the tears that were still welling in his eyes, crying more freely when he knew she wouldn’t see.

. . .

None of the rest of their people died that night. As the fighting finally subsided, Gabriel gathered them all, saying something that managed to broker tentative peace between those who believed and those who did not.

As a new leader, Gabriel offered the people from space a place in the compound, but none of them took it. They were too scarred by all that had happened there. So Gabriel sent them off into the woods, armed with essentials and an emergency supply of anti-toxin that would last them long enough for Raven to figure out the eclipse pattern. They were offered the shelter of Sanctum any time the rare occurrence might approach.

And so, loaded down with supplies, the people from space marched into the woods, ready to build yet another home for themselves amongst the trees.

Everyone except Octavia.

She’d elected to stay with Gabriel. To help him figure out how to keep peace in the new Sanctum. To help him know what not to do. She hoped that this could be her redemption song.

At the last minute, Echo chose to stay with her.

Bellamy had hugged Octavia goodbye wordlessly. He understood the decision she was making. In his heart, he knew they still needed to talk, but it wasn’t time yet. Besides, they would have days and months and years to come where they could talk. For the first time in forever, they weren’t separated by danger or insurmountable distance. There was finally time to heal.

Days after they’d begun to build shelter for themselves in the forest, Jordan and Diyoza stumbled out of the anomaly, shellshocked but unharmed. They did not speak of what had happened. Perhaps they would tell everyone what had happened someday. Perhaps they never would.

As they had set out into the forest, Bellamy, noticing Clarke lagging behind near the back of the group, slowed his pace, waiting until he was beside her to wrap her hand in his. She turned her eyes to his, hers still leaking sorrow and grief. It would take her time to heal, too. But at least she was here beside him, falling in step with him toward the future.

Something inside of Bellamy pulled at him, telling him to look back.

He did.

Octavia was still standing at the edge of the trees, her eyes trained on Clarke and her brother. A kind, knowing smile graced her lips. She gave him a gentle nod before finally turning to walk away.

. . .

They all stayed in tents as the group in the forest began to build more permanent dwellings.

Clarke knew she should try to help, but at first, she couldn’t bring herself to do anything but sit at the mouth of the tent, gazing with tired eyes as cabins began to materialize, bit by bit, in the clearing in front of her.

Most days, she felt like a ghost, invisible to everyone else in the camp. Everybody but one.

Bellamy never left her alone for too long.

When thoughts crowded her head, dark like storm clouds, Bellamy would stop by the tent, begging her childishly for a snack, for some advice, for a sip of water.

When her fingers, serving her darkest thoughts, reached for a knife, Bellamy gently took it from her, kissing her forehead silently.

They shared a tent.

Most nights, Clarke’s pillow was abandoned for the warmth of Bellamy’s chest.

Some days, she didn’t want to be here. Or anywhere.

But somehow, Bellamy would remind her of how much he wanted her to be.

And most days, that was enough.

. . .

After a few supply runs back to Sanctum, the cabins went up surprisingly fast. As everyone labored, Clarke mostly watched, often disappearing for an hour or two to gather medicinal plants from the forest that didn’t carry the anti-toxin.

Sometimes Raven offered to help her dry and sort what she’d brought back, but Clarke always politely made an excuse. She wasn’t sure she was ready to work on healing the rift that had come between them quite yet.

She never really thought about where she would live as everyone built the place up.

One of the barracks, maybe.

She would miss the warmth of Bellamy’s body beside hers as she slept each night.

“Do you wanna see the finished cabin?” Bellamy asked her one day, tucking a wildflower behind her ear.

“Sure. Give me the grand tour,” she said mildly, humoring him. She could tell he was actually quite proud of his handiwork.

She didn’t realize how much work Bellamy had put into the place until she saw it inside. Apparently he’d managed to swing a stove and oven from the compound that someone was going to throw out, and he’d gotten Raven to fix it back into working order for him. A roughly-hewn wooden table and chairs sat near it, and a low, wide bedframe was tucked into the corner, bedecked with two white pillows and a ragged-looking quilt. He’d even rigged up a bathroom complete with a small shower – the group had collectively decided they weren’t going to live without a plumbing system ever again, and had fashioned one with some old pipes given to them by the compound and a nearby well that they’d dug.

“One more thing,” he said, gently taking her hand and leading her out the back door.

Her hand felt empty nowadays if it wasn’t holding his.

He led her around to a tiny shack, built up against the back of the cabin, far away from the chimney. As he opened the slim, creaky door, Clarke saw that the inside of it was fitted with shelves, and that the shelves were lined with small wooden boxes.

“I thought you could use it as apothecary storage,” he said quietly, ducking his head in shyness.

Warmth in Clarke’s chest bloomed. She smiled up at him, leaning down to drop a quick kiss on his shoulder.

“You thought of something that even I didn’t,” she said gratefully, touched at the gesture. “Too bad it’s not big enough to sleep in, though.”

Bellamy took a step back from her, frowning. “Wait, what?” He tilted his head, hands resting on his hips.

“I mean, too bad I can’t sleep in here instead of the barracks,” Clarke clarified, squinting up into the cool winter sunlight.

Bellamy’s brow furrowed, his mouth opening silently then closing again. Wordlessly, he grabbed her hand, leading her back inside. As she approached the center of the room, he stepped behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders.

“This is your home too, Clarke,” he said gently, his lips grazing the curve of her ear. “I can’t believe you’d ever think anything else.”

The warmth that had blossomed in Clarke’s chest outside grew, trickling into her cheeks and spreading down to her fingertips.

She turned to face him, her chin tilted upward.

Lifting her hands to his neck, she tugged him down to her, pressing her lips to his. His soft, full lips instantly warmed to hers, and his hands ran down her sides, stopping to circle at her waist and pull her in closer.

Adrenaline thrummed through Clarke’s veins for a happy reason for the first time in a very, very long time.

When she pulled back to catch her breath, his lips chased hers, hungry, yearning to make up for years of lost time. He stole the breath from her that he’d breathed into her unresponsive lungs all those weeks ago, forcing life into her because he wasn’t ready to let her go.

Feeling her gasp into his mouth, he broke away, giving her air as his lips kissed across her cheek, beneath her jaw, down her neck.

Her heart threatened to burst through her ribcage.

“Bellamy,” she said suddenly, reaching down to hold his face in her hands and dragging him back up to her eye level.

“You’ve always been wanted,” she whispered, her heart in her throat. “Even when I didn’t know it. It was always going to be you.” Tears threatened to spill over as she thought of all that he’d said, all that he’d done for her, thinking that he might not matter to her the same way. “I’ve always needed you. I’ve always wanted you. Please never forget that.” She leaned forward, kissing the underside of his jaw.

“Clarke.” His deep voice rumbled in his chest against her, stopping her. It was his turn to hold her face in both hands, his soft brown eyes searching hers. “I love you. So much,” he confessed, the words falling from his lips like honey Clarke wanted to taste. “More than anything. I always thought you knew.”

Tears finally tipped from the corners of her eyes, rolling down her cheeks. Standing up on tiptoes, she kissed him again, smiling against his lips.

Maybe a part of her did always know.

Just, for the longest time, she never thought she’d ever get to hear it.

But now, she was finally home.

[you-mass-effect-my-dragon-age]

Part of Your World - Chapter 3: Friends?

Summary:

When you're new an unfamiliar world, the best way to integrate yourself to ensure your survival is to have friends. They make things so much easier and can be just the Maker-given blessing you could ever ask for.

Chapter Text

Kaidan looked down at the slight woman before him with concern, then turned to Shepard. "Request to return to the Normandy, Shepard. We need to get her to the med bay ASAP, before she goes into cardiac arrest. Do you still need my help?"

"No, I'll just call for Wrex. You take care of our new guest." Shepard turned to the side and stood as Kaidan moved forward to gently pick the blonde woman up in his arms, surprised by how light she was, before standing again. How long had she been on the ship?  Had they been feeding her?  He quickly scanned her cell and saw protein bars still in their wrappers piled neatly against a wall next to the door. From the number of bars stacked, and what little he knew about the slave trade, it had to be at least a week. They certainly had attempted to care for her wound, in a manner of speaking. Empty Medi-gel packets were wadded up and in a pile next to the bars. As he turned to leave, he saw Ashley pick up a bow made of a light colored wood and covered with strange markings, looking at it intently with a hint of confusion. Shepard put a hand up to his ear to activate the coms to the Normandy. "Joker.  Notify Chakwas that we have a medical emergency coming aboard and send Wrex to the Blue Suns ship."

Kaidan heard Joker's confirmation in his own ear as he quickly and carefully carried Merrin through the halls of the slavers ship to where the Normandy had docked at the airlock after disabling the slave ships engines.

Back on the SSV Normandy, Kaidan hurried down to the crew's quarters and over to where Chakwas' med bay lay, carefully laying Merrin down on the same bed that he and Ash had put Shepard on after Eden Prime. Chakwas hurried over and began examining the woman while Kaidan simply stared down at her. There was something arresting about her, he decided.  With the blank look gone from her eyes and facial features in her unconsciousness, she looked soft and dainty even though she was clearly malnourished, causing her cheekbones to become more pronounced.

He continued a visual scan, noting that despite her face looking soft and dainty, the rest of her body from her shoulders down was toned, like that of an infiltrator. Her metal and leather armor was unlike any he had ever seen. Leather pauldrons covered both shoulders and were buckled to a leather and metal breastplate. Said breastplate was emblazoned with an image of a sword, handle side down towards her waist with the blade ending between her breasts, with curved lines emanating from the blade and covered a nearly flat chest. A pair of thick leather gloves covered her hands and forearms. When he raised her right sleeve past her elbow, he saw track-marks in the crook of her arm. Had the slavers done this to her? Or was she a junkie coming off a high, thinking she was an alien from a world they had never heard about and made up a language to throw off their translators?

He looked at her flushed face again and saw no signs of prolonged substance abuse, so that meant that they had been keeping her sedated or on some kind of medication. Kaidan moved the chainmail that lay across her flat stomach and looked at the long slice in her skin that was bleeding through the gauze someone on the Suns’ ship had applied.  The leather and metal chain that covered her middle was torn, but not beyond repair.  He caught a glimpse of toned stomach muscles around the bloody gauze and felt his own clench in desire at the sight. He immediately chastised himself.  She was injured, sick, and unconscious. He would control his reactions to her.

A length of blood red cloth was wrapped around her hips that draped down to cover her backside, ending at the back of her knees and her legs were encased in tight leather pants that left little to the imagination, cupping her lithe legs in all the right places. Absently, Kaidan returned his gaze to her face again and reached up to push her thick white-blonde bangs out of her face and behind her pointed ear with his still armor-clad fingers. He watched with fascination as gooseflesh formed at his touch over her neck despite being unaware of the world around her.

‘ Must be my biotics.’ He thought to himself.

"Kaidan."  His head snapped up at the sound of his name, seeing Chakwas looking at him expectantly. Kaidan felt a blush form on his cheeks at being caught staring at an unconscious woman and he quickly dropped his hand. No matter that it was meant to be more of an examination and that she was dressed in archaic armor, he still felt like a voyeur. "I need you to go so that I can examine the wound in her side.  In order to do that, I have to remove her oddly designed armor and doubt it would be appropriate for someone other than her doctor to see her in her undress. We don’t know what she has on under her armor."

"Yes, Doctor Chakwas, you're absolutely right."

"I will need your help, however, once she is in a hospital smock for easier examination. Give me five minutes before you come back inside."

Kaidan nodded and left without looking at Merrin again. He needed to get out of his armor, so he went down to the cargo bay to dress down to his BDUs before going back up to the Mess to get something to eat.  He had used several biotic Throws as they cleared the Suns’ ship and needed to refill his energy in hopes of avoid a headache he knew was well on its way to making his day difficult.

As he ate his energy bar designed for active biotics, his thoughts went back to their mysterious guest instead of the report he should be writing.  

Since she wasn't in front of him, he could focus and examine the situation they had found her in in detail, going over the readings his omni-tool had picked up when he had scanned her body for other injuries. It had caught the three of them off guard when their translators had needed to take time to decipher and translate what she was saying.  She looked human, so they had expected her to speak to them in English.  But when she had spoken to them, telling them her name,  her words had come out closer to an interesting combination of French, Italian and Chinese with different accentuations and tones. He had asked what planet she was from, thinking she was just disoriented and ill, but was it possible that this Thedas she said she was from truly existed? Or was he just hoping she wasn’t an escapee from an insane asylum on some planet or space station?

As he walked back to the medical bay, he did a quick search at his workstation on the extranet, but found no planet named Thedas on neither the public databanks nor the Alliance records he had clearance to view.

He'd bring it up with Shepard and see what he thought, he decided.  Perhaps he could ask Anderson, Udina, or maybe even the Council.  Maybe Shepard would have access to information not available to the general public since he was of a higher rank, an N7, and now a Spectre.

Decision made, Kaidan went back to the Med bay and was about to enter when the door opened, bringing him face to face with Doctor Chakwas.

"Ah, there you are. I was just about to go looking for you.  She's dressed now. You can help me with her wound and her readings from your Omni-tool that I assume you took before moving her from the ship. When I scanned her myself, I got some very strange results."

Kaidan followed her back into the room and immediately went to Merrin's bed where she lay flat on her back in her hospital pants and shirt. Her hair was no longer in the ponytail they had found her in, but down and to the side, showing just how long it was. "How bad was her wound, Doc?"

“The wound itself was relatively clean, even with the infection. There are trace amounts of some kind of organic compound, not found in any database that I have access to, within the wound itself. I also found medi-gel on her skin and in her bloodstream, as well as a large amount of sedatives, so it seems that she was being treated. But it was obvious that either the one treating her did not know how to apply the gel, or they had a bad batch and it didn’t take because her wound had very little healing skin at the edges. Who is she?  Where and how exactly did you find her?"

"She said her name is Merrin Trevelyan and that she was from a planet called Thedas.  But I couldn't find anything about the planet on the extranet or in Alliance records, so she was either delusional in her likely fevered state from her wound and malnutrition, she was lying, or she is from a previously unknown alien world outside Council space, whose inhabitants look human like us." He crossed his arms over his chest as he cast his gaze down the alien woman’s body and back to her face again. Her armor, that was now piled haphazardly on the bed on her other side from him, was inadequate to say the least. It was no wonder she had gotten slashed, wherever she had been before being taken by the Blue Suns.

"Tell me what you know."

Kaidan flicked his left wrist to activate his Omni-tool and pressed a button to record his report to Chakwas so he could transpose it later for the Alliance Brass, and sent the doctor a copy of his own scans of her while they had been on the ship. He went into detail about where they found her and how, thinking it might help in her diagnosis. He told her about the unused protein bars stacked neatly along a wall and the medi-gel wrappers they had found scattered about and she nodded, confirming that someone had indeed been applying medical assistance to her wound even though it was obvious they hadn’t been very successful.

"As Commander Shepard was talking to her at eye level, I began seeing signs of high stress and shock setting in, so I did a diagnostic scan of her body with her consent.  As I read the readings for the first scan, there were strange results coming in.  So I decided to do a second test to make sure they were accurate and my ‘tool wasn’t malfunctioning. I also kept her talking to ensure continued consciousness. Since she was able to communicate with us, I am left to assume that the Blue Suns implanted a translator somewhere within her body. Likely in her ear or behind it, since I didn’t find an Omni-tool on her wrist. Once the second scan was complete, I found that the results from the first scan and the second were the same.  According to the readings, her physiology did not match any recorded listings of races in Council Space, yet she, as I stated before, appears human."

Over the next half hour, he told Chakwas everything he could think of about the entire situation. As he did, he continuously found his gaze drawn to the mysterious woman.  With her armor gone, she looked more normal and he got a better picture of her fitness, and his body stirred again at the sight. He quickly cleared his throat and continued, explaining the condition in which he had found her wound.

"During my examination, it became more and more apparent that her wound had been taken care of by someone, likely a member of the Blue Suns, because there were medi-gel packages scattered about and a thin layer of gel applied incorrectly to the wound. If it had been correctly done, her wound would be closed now. The moment she lost consciousness, I requested permission to bring her aboard from Commander Shepard.  She needed the med bay because she was going into shock. Shepard radioed ahead to the pilot, apprising him of the situation and requested backup."

Chakwas nodded again when he finished and he pressed the stop button on his Omni-tool. "I agree with your assessment of the wound. I also found that she had recently lost quite a bit of blood because of her wound, likely adding to her confusion and lassitude. On top of her malnutrition, it’s a wonder she didn’t go into shock sooner if she is indeed from an alien world. I will have to run more tests on the two mysterious organic compounds to see if it gives any hint of her origins as well. She will be quite the intriguing puzzle in the days to come, our Miss Merrin, wouldn't you agree Staff Lieutenant?"

Kaidan didn't know what to think, if he were completely honest.  At first glance, she appeared to be a human female in the peak of health - current medical problems notwithstanding. Toned muscles, strong jaw, lush lips, straight nose, long legs. Skin smooth and showing no visible signs of prolonged illness. He thought of his earlier reaction to her, knowing that he was attracted to her, but to what ends? Being part of the Alliance and on an extended mission on the Normandy with Shepard meant that there was no time for any extra curricular activities like dating. He kicked himself internally. He didn’t even know the woman. His line of thoughts were extremely inappropriate.

"I don't know, Doc. Only time will tell."

Over the next several hours, only taking a break when Shepard, Ashley and Wrex had returned and they all gave a debriefing in the comms room, Kaidan assisted Dr. Chakwas with re-dressing Merrin's wound when it bled through the gauze even after they stitched it closed. Both peered into magnifying glasses as they tried identifying the material found in her wound as well as figuring out why she looked human but had varying differences in comparison to humans that had originated from Earth. Her slightly pointed ears one indication.

He had so many questions he wanted to ask her.  Was Thedas a secret human colony that got lost when humans had first begun space travel beyond their own system? If they were, then why did they have a different language that the translators actually had to think about? Was it just happenstance that the Milky Way created two planets with humanoid lifeforms on it yet were completely and absolutely unrelated?  Kaidan thought about these questions and more as he rubbed his eyes before going back to a sample of the organic material under a microscope.

This went on for three days. Both he and Karin studied her, trying to figure out who and what she was. No medication to cure her infection was working, so they resorted to simply washing her wound out several times a day and packing the wound with wet gauze and letting it dry until they were sure that the wound was no longer infected. When the skin around the wound was no longer swollen and hot to the touch, they stitched up the long slash that went from her bellybutton to just below the right side of her ribs. Kaidan would have rather used medigel, but even when applied by a professional such as Dr. Chakwas, it didn’t seal her wound. It seemed as if the compound was incompatible with her physiology.

Before dropping her off at a station, her friend Seema’Ray, a quirky Quarian that they had saved from the ship, visited her under guard to make sure she was okay and to explain to them what had been done to her. Seema had told them all she could from what she had been able to see and hear from the grate separating the two cells. Before she left the Normandy, XO Pressley made the young Quarian sign an agreement of silence, telling her that she was not allowed to give details on the Normandy to anyone. She signed it eagerly, saying she felt gratitude to those who rescued her and wanted nothing to do with causing harm to her saviors.

On the fourth day of the mysterious woman’s comatose state, Kaidan was back to studying the mysterious material they had found when he heard a gasp come from the direction of Merrin's bed, followed by fevered shuffling of cloth. He spun around on his swivel stool to face her and saw Merrin sitting up in the bed, her knees to her chest with wide, frightened eyes scanning everything. Kaidan studied her rapidly moving eyes, noticing they were unfocused and her pupils were blown. He had a feeling that she wasn’t even truly conscious of her actions.

When Chakwas stood to hurry over to her, Merrin noticed her rapid approach and crab walked across the bed to get away from the older woman and Kaidan flinched when her hand missed the bed and she fell off and onto the hard, metal floor below with arms and legs flailing. He worried that she had aggravated her injuries, but if she had, she didn't show it.  Merrin sprang to her feet with surprising agility and hurried to a corner next to the door before resuming the position he had found her in just moments ago.

"Miss Trevelyan, are you alright?  You should be in bed resting.  You have experienced quite the ordeal and need time to heal." Chakwas was trying to be calming, but as she approached the terrified woman, she only appeared to be making things worse. He saw Merrin’s chest rise and fall faster as her head whipped from side to side, seeking an escape route, giving them a deer-in-the-headlights look.

Hurrying forward, Kaidan placed a hand on Chakwas' shoulder before moving to crouch in front of Merrin, noting how her eyes became somewhat focused and locked on him and she eased ever so slightly. She had had a similar reaction on the other ship. He raised his hands mid torso with his palms facing her. "Merrin? You're okay. Do you remember me?"

"A-len-ko." The way she said his last name sounded as if her tongue was numb or she was having a time of talking.

Kaidan smiled at her use of his last name and could visibly see the muscles in her arms and legs loosening from their vise-like grip they had on her bones. "That's it, easy does it. You are safe here, Merrin. I promise.  This is the medical bay aboard the SSV Normandy."

"The... Normandy?" She closed her eyes and tilted her head towards the ceiling of the med bay as if listening or sensing something. He was surprised when he watched her slightly pointed ears actually twitch . Was this common on her planet?

When she opened her eyes once more, they were still out of focus and the fear had returned as had the shaking. Something was frightening her and it wasn’t helping her situation.  She began murmuring to herself under her breath. "No, no, no, no, no. This isn't real. I am still in the tower.   I am still in the tower.  This is just another blood magic trick to torture me. A desire demon must have possessed me. This isn’t real.  The other metal bird wasn’t real... must still in the tower."

Her manner of speech was sounding like a Salarian, her words quick and close together. Kaidan looked to Chakwas in question, receiving a confused look in reply. Blood Magic? Desire demon? He was about to ask what they should do when a high pitched scream erupted from Merrin's throat. Like a flash, Chakwas went to the table next to Merrin's bed and returned with a syringe full of a clear liquid and approached Merrin.  Kaidan moved next to Merrin, grabbed her now thrashing arms to hold her still, and leaned in next to her ear.

"Everything will be fine, Merrin.  I promise." He whispered, feeling her shake violently in his hands. She was terrified, and all he wanted to do was ensure his words would be true.

"I'm just going to give her a moderate sedative so she doesn't aggravate her healing wound." Chakwas said as she knelt down beside Kaidan and Merrin.

Even though she still struggled in his grasp, whispering ‘Not again…’, her eyes locked onto his when he pulled back once more and stayed, tear-filled, fearful and unfocused, even as Chakwas slid the needle into the flesh of her neck and injected the sedative into Merrin's bloodstream. What was the younger woman seeing that scared her so much? What horrors had she gone through before being captured by the Suns?

Kaidan tensed when the doctor pressed the plunger, worrying that she would end up injuring their patient while she continued to fight against his hold, but he should have known better. Chakwas was no young doctor fresh out of the Academy - she had years, or even decades, of experience in the medical field and held her own against the thrashing woman. He knew better than to worry. In no time, Merrin relaxed, the drug coursing through her body.  Her eyelids drifted closed and her head flopped forward onto his collarbone, her arms going went limp as the medication took hold more quickly than usual.

Kaidan scooped her up with ease, mindful of her wound once more, noting how different she felt in his arms when there was no armor between them.  His cheeks flushed at just how much he felt himself enjoying having her in his arms. He moved over to her bed and set her down carefully before moving away, severing contact completely. He could physically feel himself becoming attached to a woman he knew next to nothing about and he had to stop it. He couldn't let it happen.  Kaidan backed away until his rear bumped into the table he had been working at and turned to lose himself in their study of the mysterious compounds.

~//~

When Merrin opened her eyes next, it was to a darkened room. She felt a familiar lethargy pulling at her arms and legs, feeling as if heavy stones had been tied to her wrists and ankles. It felt like the time she had accidentally eaten the wrong plant while hunting mages and had been knocked out. So she resigned herself to casting her gaze about more leisurely now that a haze of fear and the hallucinations from the lyrium wasn’t currently clouding her vision so completely.

She could still feel the emotion in her gut, but now she could focus more on finding a way off this metal bird.

Was she in her right mind?  Was this real? Or was she still in an illusion cast by a demon of desire? If it was, then why was it looking like this and not something more familiar? Why was she seeing people in strange clothing walk around with panes of glass in their hands? So many questions floated leisurely through her mind as she lay in the bed that her mind could not process completely.

This room... what had Alenko called it?  The Medical bay? It was clean and tidy, like the infirmary back at the tower, but it lacked the stone ceiling and walls and the heavy wooden door. It was infinitely warmer than the infirmary at the tower as well. If any of this was truly real.

Merrin turned her head to the right easier than she had in days.  Where was the door?  When she thought she had woken from a dream before, there had been the fear upon waking to a new and unfamiliar place. There had also been memories replacing everything she could see, brought on by the withdrawal. Memories of the tower, of the tor... But she thought she remembered seeing some kind of portal outline. When she looked there now, she saw nothing.

“Oh good, you’re awake. You’re on the SSV Normandy and you are safe and cared for.”

Merrin tensed at the sound of an older woman’s voice right next to her.  When she turned to look to her left, it was to see the woman from her hallucination earlier. What was her name…

“Miss Trevelyan, I am Doctor Chakwas.  I am the physician on this ship.” Merrin relaxed at the woman’s soft voice, but didn’t let down her guard.  She didn’t know this woman, what a physician was, and for all she knew, all this was still just an illusion brought on by a blood mage or lyrium-induced imaginings.

“Miss Trevelyan, are you feeling alright?”

“My name isn’t Miss.  It’s Merrin, Doctor.”

“Ah I see. Miss is a title, Merrin.  As is doctor.  I heal people professionally. My name is Karin.”

“Miss is a title? Like Ser or Serah.”

“Erm, yes. Now, might I examine your injury? I want to make sure it’s healed properly.”

Merrin looked at Doctor Chakwas, wondering if she was sane. She watched the healer reach over to turn on a light overhead and Merrin flinched slightly at the suddenness brightness without using flint. Karin raise the edge of the shirt Merrin had been dressed in and Merrin scoffed. “I have only had it a short time.  It couldn’t possibly be heal…”

Looking down at the wound as Karin cut away the bandages wrapped around her stomach, it was as if it was weeks old instead of a few short days, with small stitches at even intervals up the length of the wound. She shivered when the Doctor’s cool fingers touched the warm flesh of her ribs where there was now a raised dark pink scar growing on her skin as the wound continued to heal, leading to her belly button. Merrin looked up at the other woman and started pulling away.

“Are you a mage?  Surely this couldn’t have healed so much so soon. Or have I been slumbering for many weeks, to allow the wound to be healed as such?”

“A magician?  No.” The older woman paused and placed her hands on her hips, looking up in thought.  After a few moments, she looked back down at Merrin. “We live in a society that is, apparently, quite a bit more advanced than that of which you are used to. It isn’t instant, but we can heal a wound that would take weeks or months to heal back in the age before modern medicine, in a fraction of the time. For instance, your wound here would have needed stitches and weeks of healing and then some physical therapy to repair the wounded muscles and possibly broken bones.  But with our techniques and medicines, your wound could be healed in a matter of days and would only need physical therapy. As it is, our medigel doesn’t seem to work for you, so we had to go about healing you in a bit more of an old-fashioned way with a lot of cleaning and some stitches.”

That reassured Merrin little. “How long have I been asleep?”

The doctor pursed her lips.  “I gave you a light sedative to calm you down when you woke before after four days of unconsciousness. It was supposed to help you sleep and speed up your healing. But it affected you much differently than I had assumed.  That was five days ago.”

She had been sleeping for five… no… nine days? That was over a week that she could have been spending getting back home.

“Well, you seem to have healed enough to be allowed to move about the room. I just have one or two questions for you, if I may?” Merrin nodded and relaxed into the pillow under her head. “The main question I have that has been stumping the Lieutenant and I, as well as some medical colleagues of mine is: What plant did you use, before being captured, to heal your wound? We recognize some of the qualities, but there was an unknown chemical in it that, when tested, seemed to somehow have healing abilities.”

“It’s called Elfroot.  It is a healing herb that grows wild in forests and near water sources. It is commonly used as a poultice or a potion. I was only able to find a little before I got captured.” Merrin closed her eyes against the growing brightness of the light in the room.  “Why is it getting so bright in here?”

The doctor paused. Merrin could hear confusion in her voice when she replied.  “What do you mean?”

Merrin squeezed her eyes shut so that none of the the near blinding light could get in, causing her head to begin hurting. A pinching sensation at first, but it rapidly got worse. She felt a moan escape her as she turned to her side and curled into a fetal position, lifting her hands up to cup the sides of her head. It was starting to positively throb, making it to where she couldn’t even think. The singing was returning and screaming was in her ears and bouncing off the insides of her skull, like a stray spell gone awry. The combination of pain and screeching song threatened to make her sick.

“What’s wrong? I need you to talk to me.”

"My head," Merrin croaked, her eyes tearing as she squeezed her temples with her hands.  The pain was horrible. It was as if every part of her head was screaming now, and no matter how hard she tried to block it out, it didn't work. She wanted to scream, to cry out. But she couldn't seem to get the sound past her gritting teeth and locked jaw.

As if from a great distance, she thought she heard Doctor Chakwas talking to her.  Something about pain and medication. All Merrin could do was curl into a tighter ball as the pain worked its way slowly down her spine. She barely felt the pinprick that was a needle being inserted into her arm.

Merrin was surprised when the pain ebbed enough that she could open her eyes. The pain was gone so fast, replaced by that Maker forsaken lethargy.  She saw concern and confusion etched on the woman's face from above.

"Do you know what brought on such a strong and sudden reaction, Merrin?"

Merrin blinked slowly then nodded, replying at the same speed. "Lyrium, serah."

"What is Lyrium?  Is it some kind of narcotic?"

"Lyrium is a ...mineral… mined by the dwarves that bestows... and enhances a Templar's abilities." She paused, feeling her eyelids getting heavy once more. ‘ Not again, please Maker, not again.’

"Fascinating." Was the last thing Merrin heard before sleep claimed her once more.

~//~

"I was wondering when you would return."

Kaidan pushed down a blush that attempted to color his cheeks.  He had done his best to stay away from the med bay unless Chakwas required his assistance, thinking it would lessen his reaction to their patient. But he couldn't seem to stop thinking about Merrin as she slept in the Med bay.  For nine days, even when Shepard had needed him on some of the planets in the system they just cleared, he had thought of her.  She was starting to prove to be a distraction he could ill afford. His Commander needed him to be at his best, as both a biotic and the field medic. He couldn't afford to worry about a single female right now.

"I'm sorry, Doc. Did you need me for anything? I have only just returned from assisting the Commander on exploration missions of the planets in the Athens system before we head to Knossos to find Benezia’s daughter, Liara T’Soni."

She made a noncommittal noise. "I thought that, since you brought our Mysterious Merrin in and helped me while she slept before her episode, you might have taken special interest in her case."

"What do you mean?  Has something happened?" He flinched internally at his anxious tone. So much for telling himself not to worry about her.

Chakwas smirked, obviously picking up on his inner conflict. "It would seem that she is going through withdrawal symptoms from one of the two compounds we found in her system. I believe she called it Lyrium? It appears to be some kind of narcotic mined from the ground on the planet she's from. She mentioned about it gifting and enhancing some kind of abilities. It almost sounds like Red Sand, to be honest. While I was speaking with her earlier, she had a sudden attack of intense pain in her head, curling into a fetal position as tightly as her body would allow. If I had allowed it to continue, she’d have likely gotten sick in the rubbish bin."

Kaidan gulped.  No matter his reactions to her, he disliked it when innocent people were in pain. In this case, he understood what she had gone through. Because of his L2 implants, he was prone to intense migraines.  Especially when or if he over used his biotics and he hadn't eaten anything in awhile. "Did you give her the same medication I’m given when it gets bad?"

"Yes, with some minor adjustments to the formula. That's why she is sleeping now." She looked at him for a moment, as if waiting for him to say something.  When he didn't, she continued. "I was wondering if you might be able to keep an eye on her. I missed lunch today."

Before he could decline her request, she brushed past him and was out the door, heading to the Mess. Kaidan pursed his lips as he stared at the door for a moment before turning to Merrin's sleeping form.

He watched her eyes move rapidly behind her eyelids.  She was dreaming and he felt momentary curiosity before pushing it back.  She had been through hell on that slaver ship and even before by the looks of the angry slash she had been sporting when they found her and brought her to the Normandy.  Romance may not be in his list of capabilities - not any more - but he was a field medic and he cared about people.  And, if her story about being from a planet that wasn’t listed anywhere on the extranet was true, then she was alone and needed a friend. He didn’t mind stepping up to that plate at least.

Kaidan settled in to watch over Merrin as Doctor Chakwas had requested.  The sooner they reached the Citadel again, the better for the alien woman before him.

~//~

Several hours later, Kaidan was reading from a medical journal he had saved on his tablet about field medics and the latest advances in studies made to increase the potency of medigel and tricks and tips to keeping soldiers alive while planet-side. Dr. Chakwas had long since returned and was currently working at her desk.

Both humans turned to the woman on the bed when she started squirming and moaning under the sheet they had draped over her to keep her warm. The REM he had witnessed earlier seemed to have become more intense, leading to more fervent dreams. What was she dreaming about?

Kaidan jumped to her side when Merrin started thrashing, her arms flailing and legs kicking. Her dream was no longer just a dream.  It appeared to be turning into a nightmare.

He sat down next to her on the bed to wake her at the same time she shot up in bed with a gasp, slipping past his outstretched arms. Without thinking, Kaidan wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her closer. “Shh, you’re okay.  It was just a dream.”

She seemed to visibly relax at his reassurance. Merrin’s body shuddered once before she relaxed more and pulled away. Kaidan felt himself become charmed by the blush on her cheeks that had nothing to do with fever.

“Thank you, ser.” She seemed almost embarrassed that he had seen her like that. “I appreciate you for waking me from my nightmare.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” He raised his eyebrows when she violently shook her head and pulled away from him. “Merrin?”

She looked at him with fear in her eyes. “Please, I do not wish to relive those events that cause the nightmares. It’s bad enough I relive them while I sleep. I beg you not ask me.”

Kaidan bowed his head in respect for her request.  “I want to be your friend, Merrin.  I will wait for as long as you need.  But I have heard that sharing your dreams or nightmares helps with healing.”

“You want to be my friend?”

He couldn’t tell if she was purposefully ignoring his comment, but it didn’t bother him and he shrugged. “I do.  If you really are from another world, then you are very much alone right now and could use one. If you even want one, that is.” He quickly added. For all he knew, she wanted nothing to do with him.

She pinched her chin as she looked at him in thought, then smiled. “Yes.  I think I’d like that, Alenko.”

“Kaidan.”

“What?”

“My name. It’s Kaidan.  Alenko is my surname.”

Merrin gasped and placed a hand over her mouth in surprise.  A blush formed high on her cheekbones again. “I’ve been calling you by your surname this whole time? Oh, Maker, I am embarrassed.”

Kaidan chuckled and she seemed to focus on the sound. Suddenly, he felt rather self-conscious and rubbed at the back of his neck. “You’re fine. Calling people by their last name is a military thing that just sort of turns into a habit. You can call me whatever you want.”

She smiled at him. “Alright, Kaidan.”