#shipverse || grins as sharp as a knives ( shepard )

[anderwhohn]

@dutyworn asked: HIDE - Sender pulls receiver to a hiding place. They're on the run from something or someone. / izzy in the siblingverse where wren's older and it's pre-alliance gang times

They're all dead…

They're all dead, and it's her fault!

One minute, they were scaling a fence to check a building for any bits of tech she might be able to salvage, and the next, they'd found themselves surrounded by a rival gang who had recently expanded their territory that she and Wren had unknowingly crossed into.

Wren had always told her to keep out of sight if any fighting ever started, but it was too late to hide, and one of the thugs had grabbed her while another grabbed her sister. Izzy had been so scared, and the next thing she knew, a glowing light flared in the dark alley, and… ripped the rival gang members apart.

Tears streak her dirty face as she looks up at Wren in a mix of fear and desperation, that strange glow still flickering sporadically across her own skin. A quiet sob escapes her even as she crawls into the tiny alcove that her sister's pulled her to, trembling as she tries to curl in on herself and make herself as small as possible.

[anderwhohn]

"I told you, you know," Isabela notes wearily as she slips around the bar, digging through the stash until she finds the bottle of Noverian rum that she'd... acquired the last time they had to stop on that frozen corporate hellscape. Pouring them both a generous glass, she slides one to Wren with a pointed look. "But nooo, you just had to be the Alliance Princess and let them chew you up and spit you out when they were done with you..."

It'd been a main source of arguments between them for years, aside from the usual stuff that comes up between siblings. Her own refusal to stay with the Alliance itself after one too many missions going south certainly hadn't helped matters, even if she did drop everything to help whenever Wren asked.

"Fucking hell, Wren... Would it really kill you to just tell Hackett to shove it up his ass just once? You can yell at a fucking Admiralty Board, the fucking head dalatrass of the entire Salarian Union, the fucking Primarch of Palevan, some ancient alien that essentially created the reapers themselves, and go up against multiple Reapers on foot, but telling Hackett 'no' is too fucking much?"

                  open starter ↷

❝ It’s almost like, ❞    she leaves the sentence hanging, runs both hands through her hair. Her voice softer than usual, as she makes effort to keep it even. She’s not fine, but she can handle it; she’s not falling apart.  She’s not falling apart.    ❝ I don’t even feel like a person, anymore. Just a patched-up-together collection of every shitty thing that’s happened. And I try to mask as a human being, but... It’s fine,  I’m fine,  I just... ❞

[anderwhohn]

@dutyworn asked: “You’re not my parent. So, stop acting like it.” / for izzy (reversed), siblingverse 

"Oh my gods, Wren!" Isabela groans as she storms through the cargo bay toward Engineering despite her obvious over-exhaustion, ignoring the curious looks the other crew give them. "You're not my mother! Or have you forgotten I'm your older sibling?! Just because I'm on your crew doesn't give you a free pass. So stop acting like it!"

"Just because I had to use my biotics more than we ever planned for doesn't mean you get to fucking mother me like you do the rest of the crew. So just... just stop, alright? I already told you I'm fine."

[anderwhohn]

@dutyworn asked: “You think every choice I make is wrong.” / for izzy, siblingverse

"Oh, I'm sorry," Isabela drawls sarcastically, crossing her arms as she leans back against the bulkhead. "I didn't realise you had suddenly received a master's degree in engineering when I wasn't looking."

"I know I'm not your only tech expert anymore - and don't get me wrong, I adore Tali and Garrus; it's been great talking shop with people who actually know their shit - but when you leave every one of us behind and don't even radio in when you need a tech solution that your squad can't handle? Then yeah, I'm going to start questioning your fucking choices when you nearly get yourself blown up by a fucking nuclear bomb, Wren!!"

She sighs wearily, wishing to anything that their lives could just be normal, and not… whatever the hell it's become ever since they joined the Alliance. While it got them off the streets, it sure as hell didn't make their lives any easier.

"What, do you think Hackett and the Brass will give me command of the Normandy if something happens to you? You damn well know they'd have had me Cat-6'ed years ago if not for Anderson."

[anderwhohn]

@dutyworn asked: “Is this what you do in engineering all the time?” / for izzy in siblingverse

"Only on Thursdays," Isabela quips as she briefly glances toward her sibling with a cheeky grin before focusing on her task once more, half buried under a mess of cables, wires, and circuitry as she lays on the deck plating under the propulsion console. "The Normandy may be state-of-the-art, but there's plenty still that can be improved. Tali and I worked it out to where we can improve our fuel efficiency by five percent. With all the back-and-forth we're doing out here, I figured it would be worth it."

Securing the access panel back in place, she carefully slides out to the open floor before sitting up, brushing at her now dusty uniform. "Why? What did you think I did down here? Flirt with our quirky quarian guest constantly?"

[anderwhohn]

Emerald green eyes watch her from under a furrowed brow, the young teen's frown more of a pout even as she looks thoroughly unimpressed with her older sister. It's been nearly two months since Wren decided to get them off Earth by enlisting herself in the Alliance, negotiating a place for Izzy is their Ascension Program at Grissom Academy, and now that the eezo nodes in her body have fully developed and her biotics started to manifest in earnest, the Academy had called Wren in about Izzy needing an amp implant sooner rather than later.

She's not fine, so she damn well knows Wren isn't, especially given what she's learned by hacking into the Alliance's databases so she knows what's happening to her sister who's training in whole other star clusters while Izzy is trapped on this space station - at least until she can manage to steal one of the instructors' laptops so she'd have a better chance at setting up the necessary hacks to get into the shuttle bay...

"Oh, sure," she drawls sarcastically, crossing her arms over her chest. "You're fine. I'm fine. Everyone's fine! Because we all know how much people just love human biotics!"

A pained look crosses her features at that, hugging herself tighter as she mutters, "I'm not dumb - I know they want to see if the implant will let me do more with my biotics. Doesn't matter that I can hack nearly every system on this damn station... They just want the fucking light show, and I can't even hold a barrier long enough to deflect a wad of paper thrown at me..."

@anderwhohn said: “ you don’t have to be so strong all the time. it’s okay. cry. i’ll be strong for both of us. “ /from Izzy (younger sibling!Izzy with Wren being the Commander - probably early Alliance for Wren (Iz may or may not be enlisted herself yet, depending on exact timeline)

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒    /    ACCEPTING ↷

Wren shouldn’t be so starled, that Izzy would notice she’s struggling; but  she’s her baby sibling.  Doesn’t matter that Wren, at Izzy’s age, was full-time taking care of her on the streets; Izzy’s a kid, she shouldn’t be worrying about... Wren’s an adult now, properly, and has no business making it Izzy’s problem that she desperately doesn’t feel like one.

❝ I’m OK, I promise. ❞    But she looks a little uncertain as she says it.

They don’t see each other as much as Wren would like. She just doesn’t get much time off, between speeding through her GED (she hasn’t been in school since she was ten, it’s hard) and military training. Most days, she doesn’t have the free time to write an email, let alone taking days to be able to visit Izzy in person. (She chooses writing Izzy over getting enough sleep, most days.)

❝ I’m just... ❞    She tucks her hair behind her ears, smooths it down as a nervous gesture, letting her gaze drop for a second before putting on a smile.    ❝ Just a little tired, that’s all. Don’t worry! Don’t ever think you need to be strong for me, don’t you dare. ❞

[anderwhohn]

"When aren't you a pain in my ass, Pipsqueak?" Izzy retorts sharply, her hands clenching at her side as dark energy curls around her fingers. It always has been harder for her to keep a grip on her biotics when she's angry, and now is no exception, even as she tries not to let it get out of hand.

Though the second that Wren tries to touch her, Izzy wrenches herself away, taking several steps back with a snarl in warning, the deadly aura flickering at her fingers briefly flaring all over her body before she manages to contain it again. "Don't," she growls, for a moment looking desperate for an outlet, for anything other than her kid sister to focus on her anger on. "You know not to fucking touch me when I'm..."

Shaking her head, she turns away, near stalking with the predatory grace her steps seem to take when her emotions get too high, threatening to get the best of her. There's not much in the cabin, not even in terms of space to pace, and it leaves her feeling caged.

"What do you want me to say, Wren? That I'm not absolutely fucking terrified by this shit that damn beacon injected in my head? That I don't want to murder Udina and the fucking Council with my bare hands for refusing to even take the threat Saren poses seriously, much less the whole threat of galactic extinction at the hands of the Reapers? That if Hackett calls with one more fucking errand that any jarhead grunt could handle that I'm not going to have Joker take us to Arcturus Station so I can drag the Admiral to an airlock and shoot him out of it?"

"The Alliance wanted to get rid of me, but I was too valuable to Cat-6, so they handed me over the Council to make me their problem instead. Only now, they think they can still use me to do their fucking dirty work despite my being on the Citadel's payroll. That last call? He wants me to fucking 'negotiate' with some jumped up crime lord - which, let's be real here, means he's pointing me in that direction in hopes that I'll kill the bastard."

Reaching up, she rubs at her forehead, scowling at the biotics still clinging to her hands. She knows she needs to learn better control, but she sure as hell isn't going to ask for help from either Alenko or T'Soni - not with the way they both seem more interested in getting in her pants more than anything else. Maybe Wrex... He's had centuries of practice with his, after all. But... later. Definitely later.

"It's like Finch and Belmont all over again," she finally admits, glancing back toward her sister. "Every gang around 10th Street knew that if 'Nova' was sent out to 'negotiate' with someone, that there wasn't going to be much left of them by morning. I hated it then, and I hate it more now. This shit isn't why I agreed to go through that fucking hell for ICT. Or why I didn't tell Nihlus to go to hell when he dropped that whole Spectre candidate recommendation on me out of nowhere..."

❝ No, ❞    Wren says, calmly yet firmly, hands resting on her hips as she seeks eye-contact with her older sibling.    ❝ No, I specifically feel like being a pain in your ass right now, Izzy. ❞    Too much softness and Wren feels she risks Izzy further pushing her away. Too much firmness might do the same. It’s a fine line to tread, but she’s determined to do so.

There are plenty enough reasons for Izzy to not be fine. Ever since her becoming a Spectre, ever since everything started going towards chaos, it’s been one thing after another. And, for the most part, none of it is something Wren can fix. It pains her, to see more and more trauma and baggage piling up on Izzy’s shoulders. And most people... simply expect her to carry it without complaint.

❝ Talk to me, ❞    Wren offers, gentler, reaching a hand to touch Izzy’s shoulder.    ❝ It’s just me. I know you’re not fine, and I’m hardly going to judge you for it, so just... don’t pretend. Not with me. Because if you do, well. Not that easy to get rid of me. ❞

[anderwhohn]

"Wren!" she snaps, the casual demeanour she's often known for aboard the Normandy vanishing in an instant with the brief glimpse of what she could have been as a commanding officer herself. "For fuck's sake, take a breath."

"I'm not leaving - I'm pretty sure your crew would somehow manage to mutiny against me and prevent me from doing so anyway. Or they'd hunt me down and drag me back, whether you wanted them to or not," she notes with a pointed look. As much as most of the crew likes her, there's no denying their loyalty to Wren, and yeah, it wouldn't surprise Isabela in the slightest if they did drag her back if she tried to bail on them.

"Just because the galaxy isn't ending anymore doesn't mean you don't still need me, so calm the fuck down. Hell, even Javik, in all his grumpy protheaness, is staying onboard. I thought for sure he'd leave with T'Soni when she went to rebuild the Broker's network, but instead he's still down in the cargo hold being a slightly less surly version of himself."

That had come to a surprise, seeing Javik being... dare she say happier, now that the Reapers were destroyed. She'd even conned him into joining a game of Skillian Five with the crew in Engineering, and it was so worth it to see the shock on Ken's face when Javik actually joined them. Especially when her fellow engineer once again fell for the whole 'go easy on me' routine Javik pulled, acting as if he didn't know how to play the game when she full well knew he'd read the info off from her.

"Now, tell me what the hell is going on. Or do I have to go ask Gare if he's still got his old C-Sec handcuffs and lock you down so you can't weasel your way out of it?"

Emerald eyes turn hard as she glares at her younger sister, throwing her own drink back before grabbing one of the bar towels to clean up the mess even as she listens to Wren's shouting. Not that she responds to it immediately, or otherwise even acknowledges her while she wipes up the wasted rum, only turning her focus back on the younger Shepard when the bar isn't sitting with a pool of liquid on it anymore.

"Maybe if you'd actually fucking talk to me, I'd know what the hell was going on in that stubborn head of yours," she retorts sharply, shaking her head as she tosses the towel into the small laundry chute behind the bar. "And don't give me that bullshit you did the first time, little bird."

"I damn well knew there was more to the story than what you were telling me, but I figured you weren't ready to talk yet. After all the bullshit we've been through in just the last few years, I didn't want to push. You've suffered enough without anyone trying to force you to talk when you don't want to…"

Raking a hand wearily over her face, she can't help but wish David were here. He'd always been the one who knew how to coax Wren to open up, without all the baggage of only barely being a year apart and yet being as much her parent as she is her older sibling like Izzy's always dealt with. It's a wonder they can stand each other at all some days…

"Just… Whatever it is, we'll get through it. We've survived all this hell together so far. What's a little more, huh?"

[anderwhohn]

Tear-filled green eyes look up at Wren as Isabela sniffles, the flickering biotic glow slowly dissipating once more, at least for the moment. A slow nod is the only immediate response to her older sister's question, though the way her fingers cling desperately into the fabric of Wren's shirt is telling on how much the younger Shepard doesn't truly want to let go, even if she seems to be able to force herself to act calmer.

An act is clearly all that it is, even as her breathing slows, her heart still pounds furiously as she struggles to stay quiet, to bite back the whimpering cries that stick in the back of her throat. She may be young, but she's smart - smart enough to take apart tech, even the old stuff no one hardly knows what to do with anymore, and put it back together again, better than before. She knows this is going to cause them trouble, that she's going to be in more danger than ever before, even growing up on the streets as they have...

Emerald eyes peek around Wren to look back in the direction they came from, her gaze fixated up higher along the walls of the buildings nearby. A small frown tugs at her lips as she spots at least a couple CCTV cameras, though in this rundown part of the city, there's no easy way to tell if they're still functional, much less monitored anymore.

Either way, she tugs at Wren's arm to get her attention, pointing at the nearest camera. She needs to go back out there - she can deal with the cameras without making too much noise, much better than shooting them down, which would be quick but loud.

They'd been lucky to find an old omnitool a while back, one of the older models where even the user ID chip was still built in rather than needing subdermal implantation, so she'd wiped it and set it up for her own use. It wasn't the most efficient tool, with its slower processors and limited functionality, but it was better than nothing at all, even if she constantly had to keep it hidden from Finch and the others...

❝ It’s gonna be all right. You’re gonna be all right. ❞

But try as she might, Wren can’t arrange her expression into a reassuring one or stop her hands from shaking. She pulls Izzy close to her chest, so as to hide her little sibling’s face against her body, both to muffle Izzy’s sobs and to prevent her from seeing the concern on her, Wren’s, face.    ❝ It wasn’t your fault, ❞    she says, and she believes her own words. She’s scared; how the fuck are Izzy’s biotics so strong, manifesting all of a sudden like this? How is she going to cope with them, on the streets? Who’s gonna help her control them? No one can know about this. Izzy’s gonna get killed for being too big of a threat if the Reds find out, let alone rival gangs. And if the police figure it out, she’s gonna be... shipped to some institution, locked up, Wren doesn’t know. She’s heard stories.

If her mind is made up on one practical thing, it’s that if the gore they left behind is traced back to them... Wren is going to take the blame for it. But if she goes to jail, who’s going to take care of Izzy?

They shouldn’t have ran. Should’ve stayed to... get rid of the evidence, somehow. At least to make sure there’s nothing to connect them to the scene. But she’d reacted in panic. She’ll need to go back, and soon, before someone else finds the... the mess of body parts.

❝ OK. OK, ❞    she repeats, whispering, stroking Izzy’s hair protectively.    ❝ Can you be really, really quiet for me for a few minutes, Iz? I’m sorry, I know, I know, but I need to listen. Make sure no one’s following us. ❞    She had just assumed it would be a chase. But the truth is, she’s not sure any of them survived. She has to go back... How do you get rid of dead bodies? Find gasoline somewhere... something, anything. But she can’t leave Izzy alone like this, nor can she bring her back to the scene. Fuck...

[anderwhohn]

"I don't need to see the fucking doctor!" Isabela snaps, whirling around in an about-face to glare at her sister, mere feet from the elevator and the doors into Engineering. There's a quiet panic in her emerald green eyes at the thought of 'doctors', something left over from fuzzy memories of her childhood, things that Wren doesn't know about, nor needs to ever know about, if she has her way about it.

"My amp is running hot, but it's not overloaded, so there's nothing else to do about it but wait it out. Don't believe me? Go ask Alenko." She gestures towards the elevator behind her pointedly, one brow raised high as she continues, "You don't see him or Wrex running to the damn medbay any time their amps get a bit hot either, so why the hell would you expect me to?"

❝ I’m just looking out for you! ❞    Wren yells back, vaguely aware of the looks they are getting from the crew around them as she rushes after Izzy, determined to keep up.    ❝ Are you?! Because sure as hell doesn’t feel like you’re my older sibling, the way you’re throwing a tantrum! ❞

It’s not about who’s older, or even about who’s in charge  ⸺  she’s not trying to patronise Izzy, she’s just trying to take care of her. Why should she not be allowed to do that? They’re family.    ❝ I’m not trying to be your mother or your commanding officer! I’m your sister. I worry about you! You might feel fine but you don’t really know unless you let Chakwas take a look at you! Can you please stop and listen to me?! ❞

[anderwhohn]

Emerald eyes turn hard as she glares at her younger sister, throwing her own drink back before grabbing one of the bar towels to clean up the mess even as she listens to Wren's shouting. Not that she responds to it immediately, or otherwise even acknowledges her while she wipes up the wasted rum, only turning her focus back on the younger Shepard when the bar isn't sitting with a pool of liquid on it anymore.

"Maybe if you'd actually fucking talk to me, I'd know what the hell was going on in that stubborn head of yours," she retorts sharply, shaking her head as she tosses the towel into the small laundry chute behind the bar. "And don't give me that bullshit you did the first time, little bird."

"I damn well knew there was more to the story than what you were telling me, but I figured you weren't ready to talk yet. After all the bullshit we've been through in just the last few years, I didn't want to push. You've suffered enough without anyone trying to force you to talk when you don't want to…"

Raking a hand wearily over her face, she can't help but wish David were here. He'd always been the one who knew how to coax Wren to open up, without all the baggage of only barely being a year apart and yet being as much her parent as she is her older sibling like Izzy's always dealt with. It's a wonder they can stand each other at all some days…

"Just… Whatever it is, we'll get through it. We've survived all this hell together so far. What's a little more, huh?"

                                   @anderwhohn    /    cont. from ↷

Wren slams her hand on the counter so hard the glass Izzy’s poured her falls over, spilling its contents. She surprises herself with her own volatility  ⸺  though the surprise isn’t enough to snap her out of it.    ❝ I don’t need  this  from you right now! ❞    she shouts, hands shaking; she doesn’t quite face her sibling’s eyes.    ❝ Alliance Princess? That’s where you go, now? Fuck, this has nothing to do with Hackett or the Alliance! Can you stop, just  ⸺  stop! ❞

She runs shaky fingers through her hair again, and starts to pace the room.    ❝ You don’t know what happened in there, ❞    she says, and she feels as if her very soul was breaking. Tears force their way down her cheeks and she wipes at her face, bitterly.    ❝ If you knew what happened in there. ❞    Izzy knows the official story; the version of it Wren has shared with select few: not only the unemotional, mechanical report she’s shared with the Council and the Alliance, the galaxy, but neither the full truth. She hasn’t been able to bring herself to word it: that she wielded the gun, that the Illusive Man actually managed to control her, long enough to make her pull the trigger. That maybe if she had fought it harder. Maybe. And Izzy of all people... how could she ever look her the same way, knowing the closest thing the both of them ever had to a father might still be alive, if Wren had just...  done better.  Maybe it always was the wrong one of them, all of this fell on. Izzy’s older, Izzy’s a biotic, maybe... she would have done better. For everyone. For all of it.