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“It is confirmed, the Reapers have been destroyed.”
“Search and Rescue parties are under way through the wreckage of the Citadel…”
“The death tolls are still rolling in, but there is one name everyone is anxious to see…”
“The Normandy has returned to the Sol System and joined in the search…”
“… is still no sign of Commander Shepard.”
“It has been several month and the search parties are losing hope…”
“Commander Shepard, Savior of the Galaxy, has been officially labeled as Killed in Action.”
It was everywhere, on every news feed. Commander Shepard, who single handedly united the races to defeat the Reapers, was lost.
But clean-up was still underway. The rest of the team scattered without the glue that held them together, returning to their own worlds to start rebuilding as she had always hoped they would. Those still on earth turned their sights from the rubble towards the reconstruction efforts, pitching in and using their weight as heroes to help get things done. But the rubble was still there.
Some had grand plans to make it a monument, both to Shepard and the truest uniting of the races, so clean up continued. Many bodies were still being found, most in a state of decomposition and decay or burnt to cinders from the Reaper beams. But when one was found, still burnt but strangely intact, word was sent to the best expert still working near the Citadel remains.
There was nothing recognizable on the surface, but the lack of decomposition brought up Miranda’s Omni Tool. Her heart almost stopped at the number of cybernetics she found. But even if it was her, none of her team would want to see her like this.
She had the body removed from the wreck and transported to a personal ship in cryo containment. Without telling anyone, she left in search of a laboratory she had stashed away after leaving Cerberus. Without the Mass Relays the trip took weeks, but she arrived on the remote planet to find everything untouched.
Taking the body inside, she removed it from the containment and set about her scans. With the right equipment, it took her little time to recognize her own handy work. This was the body of Commander Shepard. But more than that, her equipment showed signs of activity in the cybernetics, preventing her body from dying fully and starting to decompose. There was hope. And after everything she had done for the galaxy, that was reason enough to try.
~~
Progress was slow, without Reaper achieved tech or Cerberus’ resources almost impossible. There was no guarantee that the cybernetics wouldn’t give out at any moment and end all of her progress, but she wouldn’t give up. The burnt skin weave had caused damage, but had also protected the muscular and bone structures beneath it. Once a new genetic skin weave was ready it could be remove and replaced without causing any additional damage. Organs were also able to be repaired and the more damaged cybernetics replaced. Slowly her chances of survival were getting better.
Just as the last time, her brain was the biggest problem. But because of her first resurrection, Miranda already had the blueprints for how to repair it. By the time the skin weave was able to be replaced, basic activity had been fully restored to the brain instead of the strained cybernetics. Her chances of surviving without support were finally increasing.
~~
She had hardly realized how much time had passed, so absorbed in the process of repairing the only true friend she’d had in… possibly her whole life. When she had finally reached the point she could survive without the machines, it had already been another two whole years. While she still had extensive healing to do and a long road to full recovery, she could really be released from the induced coma in a matter of weeks. But Miranda knew she would want her friends to be there when she did.
But the first place Miranda looked, for the one person she was sure she wanted to see the most, her heart broke. Garrus Vakarian, turned from Reaper Advisor to Primarch’s right hand and spear head of the rebuilding of Palaven… had just had a baby.
The Turian news channels were flooded with pictures of the happy family, Garrus standing strong beside the Turian women holding his son. He had done the one thing no one would have expected, the last one to stop looking for Shepard, the last to leave Earth behind… he had moved on.
Miranda was devastated for Shepard’s sake, for the first time second guessing if she should have kept it a secret… if she should have tried to bring her back at all. Would she have been better off just slipping into the pages of history she herself had written? Shepard deserved a life of happiness after what she had done for the galaxy, but would she be able to find it without Garrus? No matter the answer, she could not bring herself to call him, instead closing the vid screen and turning away from her console. Neither could she look up the rest of Shepard’s friends, not certain who she could tell without word getting back to him. No, she just sat there alone, bearing the knowledge of another possible hell she was bringing Shepard back into.
~~
It was over a year later when she finally decided to wake her. She had chosen to let her fully recover under the induced coma, not wanting her to live through that pain as well as the loss of Garrus. She had kept her asleep to heal all the physical wounds, but there was nothing else left to keep her from the mental ones. There was nothing more the machines could do for her… it was time.
~~
Her eyes opened suddenly and she heard Miranda’s voice calling her name.
Not Cerberus. Not again!
She started to panic, until the woman herself stepped into her view.
“It’s alright, Shepard. You’re back, the Reapers are destroyed and Cerberus is gone.”
Her eyes bore into hers for long moments before the trust they had earned between them won out over her fears. Letting her head fall back down with a relieved sigh, she took her time waking up, unlike the last time. She tested the motion of her hands and feet, finding them stiff but responsive. It would take her time to regain the full strength to walk, but even without the Reapers, modern medicine was a marvel.
When she had fully taken stock, she motioned for Miranda to help her sit up. She didn’t argue, helping her pull with her arms and twist so her legs could hang down and she could lean back against an arm of the bed. Wobbling slightly, it felt like lead weights were pulling her feet towards the floor, but somehow the sensation felt wonderful. A simple reminder that she really was alive.
“So, if not Cerberus, where are we?”
“A laboratory I had set aside after leaving their employ. A just in case.”
“You know me to well.” That earned a laugh from both of them, but she could hear the tainted sound of it in Miranda’s voice. Something else was wrong. “So, how long has it been this time?”
A grimace told her she hit the nail on the head, but she waited patiently for her to answer.
“It’s been almost four years since you set off the Crucible and destroyed the Reapers.”
“Losing your touch?” Miranda’s laugh was filled with venom, though Shepard could tell it was directed more-so at herself.
“A lot of tech was wiped out by the energy released from the Crucible. Even the rebuilding has taken some hits because of it, but people are still making process. But no one would have thought it was possible to save you again, I’m simply too stubborn… and I had a head start from the last time.”
There was more truth to her words than she maybe intended to say so soon, and it was obvious Shepard had picked up on it. “Would have?”
Miranda’s shoulders slumped, a motion Shepard was not used to from the woman. Nor the fact that she had trouble meeting her eyes. “People looked for you for a long time after the fighting stopped. After a while, most everyone knew we were no longer looking for survivors but bodies. Still, no one could seem to find you. The closer we got to your suspected location the less there was left of the bodies we did find. Finally everyone assumed that you were completely lost.”
“Everyone?” Miranda nodded but wasn’t ready to tell that truth just yet.
“It was on a random cleanup that someone found your body. But it was not at the standard rate of decomposition. I was the most qualified and most local so they called me in. One scan showed all of your cybernetics, still somehow keeping your body alive and I had a gut feeling it was you. But you were in rough shape. After everything that had happened, that wasn’t how your friends wanted to see you, so I brought you here until I was sure it was you and that you would survive.”
Shepard nodded for a moment, processing the information, before meeting her eyes again. “How long did that take?”
She didn’t hold back to save herself, not going into the details of what all she’d had to do to save her. No, she gave her the simple, honest answer. “Two years.”
It was a dry huff of a laugh, the irony not lost on her. She kept nearly dying and missing out on years of time. But if she had really waited… the last time they had mourned her and moved on. If they hadn’t even found a body, this time would be no different for them. Looking up at her, she didn’t even have to ask, Miranda knowing what her question would be.
“Just over a year ago… Garrus had a baby, a son with a Turian woman.”
Her breath caught for only a moment before she closed her eyes with a sigh. “It had been almost three years by then. We’d talked about the possibilities… I’d wanted him to move on and be happy.”
“But if he knew-”
She raised a heavy hand to silence her. “You could have told him a year ago, but you didn’t. I couldn’t now for the same reason.” She took another breath and acceptance washed across her features. “He has a life, a family. I can’t disrupt that and ruin whatever progress he’s made for himself.”
Miranda’s head hung down in defeat, somehow knowing all along that that would have been her answer. Is scared her sometimes just how accepting Shepard was of everything that happened around her, or even to her. She just found a way to adjust and continue on without barely wasting a step. But in her own mind this was still a kind of failure.
"I just wanted you to be happy. You've earned that much from the galaxy."
She was surprised when a hand came to rest on her shoulder, offering her comfort. "I am. The Reapers are gone and people are rebuilding. Getting to live in a world of like that or dying with uncertainty of the future I had left for everyone? I think this is a better choice of haven."
Miranda could only stare at her for a moment, before she stammered out her greatest fear. "Then... you don’t hate me for bringing you back… again?"
She earned another smile. "I didn't hate Liara for bringing me to you the first time. I can't hate you for saving me again this time."
The breath that escaped her was rushed, bordering on tearful and a laugh forced its way through. "You always did think of everyone but yourself. Couldn’t let anyone else suffer.” Her cheerful verve faded as her brow creased again. “It was Garrus that convinced you to retire after the war... what will you do now?"
~~
It was several months, relearning and readjusting to being alive again, before she had come to a decision. Garrus had wanted her to retire and relax as a reward for saving the entire galaxy. The best thing she could do was honor his wishes. She would not reveal herself to the public or Alliance, but neither would she reveal herself to her friends. If she did, not only would it disrupt all of their lives that had continued on without her, but she knew word would have gotten out sooner or later.
No, it was better to honor their memories of her by staying out of sight.
Instead she decided to travel in the outer sectors. It was strange at first, not to have a crew following her around, but there was also no pressure of missions and responsibilities to anyone but herself. Though she still couldn’t seem to keep away from people. It wasn’t long after she had left Miranda’s lab before she found a way where she could continue helping others, without making a fuss, but still getting to use her skills and keep up her dexterity.
She had been an engineer, and while she was accustom to cruisers and frigates, she had spent enough time with Garrus working on the Mako that small vehicles and crafts were almost too easy. It wasn’t that long before she had made a new name for herself in a small cluster of survivors and new colonists. Some had commented on how similar she looked to that woman from the vids, but everyone knew that she was dead.
Now she was becoming known for her handiness at fixing any problem you had with a machine.
~~
It was two years after she had left Miranda that she found herself with a nice, simple home on a planet off the beaten path and her own business of hiring out for mechanic’s work. She had stayed in contact with Miranda, who had insisted on giving her updates on all her other friends. It was good to know that they were doing so well, Tuchanka and Rannoch thriving as much as Earth and Palaven, and all of them doing their part to keep the alliances that they had forged alive a well. She was still surprised at Miranda’s ability to keep her return to life from the Shadow broker, but never brought it up for fear of drawing her old friend’s attention.
That was the one thing that the rest of galaxy rarely gave to her small corner of existence, and avoiding it was even easier since she didn’t keep any company. She was simply happy to be doing her part to help out where it was needed again. It was her skills and willingness that earned her the occasional summons off planet to the local hub for sector traffic.
It was such a call that had her on her back on a mechanic’s board, rolled under the lower frame work of a personal Rover. She could easily hear a commotion from the other areas of the market, but paid them no mind as her focus was entirely upon the difficult machine resting in a few pieces over her. It had been a while since a machine had given her a good run-about and she wasn’t about to give up on it now.
She had even devolved into arguing with it, as she often had with the Mako after a particularly rough mission.
“Now you’re just making things personal.”
Garrus had always laughed at her. “It’s an inanimate object, not that it couldn’t have properly defended itself after the beating you gave it planet-side.”
She’d told the Mako to ignore him and not take it personally, and that she would give it a full detailing if it would just cooperate for her. Sometime it would and she would smile at him triumphantly, and others it would just roll over and play dead.
This Rover was currently choosing the latter option, even with the offer of a polished shine, whirring and shocking her through her gloves, earning it a string of curses she’s only ever used on the Mako after it crashed through the Relay and onto the Citadel. It had almost been beyond repair, but she refused to replace it, saying they had been through too much and she was determined to fix it.
Her hands had been as torn up as they were now, but her face smiled proudly when it once again came to life.
Something she was determined to achieve with this “temperamental bin of scrap parts.” She pulled herself out from under the machine and got off the board, turning toward a side panel that hadn’t been removed yet. When it popped free she heard the sound of something metallic hitting the floor. Glancing for a moment over her shoulder, at what she’d assumed was another mechanic working on something in another garage, she turned back towards her work when she froze.
Her hands slowly pulled back from the wires as she turned again, coming face to face with the last person she ever expected to see again. Standing in the opening to the garage she had borrowed for this job, was the impossibly familiar shape of Garrus Vakarian, clad in his same armor, same scars still somewhat visible on his right mandible, hanging just slightly uneven from his left as he gaped at her.
That had been the commotion, one of the saviors of the galaxy finding himself on this little station in the far reaches of a sparsely habited sector. She could have easily played her own shock off as if she were a star-struck fan, but the look in his eyes spoke of too many memories as they took her in. She knew her hair was longer now, pulled into a mess on the back of her head, but still the same shade of brown-red, the skin weave was the same texture and pale pigment her natural skin had been so long ago, and her eyes were still the same vibrant green. He knew exactly who she was and there was no hiding it behind a fake façade.
The silence carried on as she waited for him to say something, letting him process what he was seeing. But when his mandibles finally tightened, as if he was going to speak, movement behind him brought her own gaze to his side. That was when the young Turian came around his legs, picking up what had fallen to the floor and looking up at Garrus.
"Papa, you dropped this."
He was almost the spitting image of Garrus, with a smaller fringe and a happier expression, but the same coloring and shape of his plates, same blue markings across his nose and cheek plates, and the same mischievous glint hiding in the corner of his icy blue eyes. She couldn’t help but smile as she looked at him, wondering if Garrus had been as happy as a child and wishing she could take all the pain from his gaze now as it met hers again. Knowing she couldn’t she turned away from him and went back to her work, hoping he would have the sense to take his son and leave.
"Shepard..." Her hands paused, remembering almost every word he’d said to her in that same tone, the vibration unique to him still finding its home in the bottom of her chest. She was used to hearing her old name from the media and even some idle talk, but from the dual tones she’d never been able to forget, it still caused her spine to tingle. "Take it to your mother, I need to talk to this lady."
The tingle turned to an electric shock as her eyes snapped back to the pair, watching wide-eyed as the young boy smiled up at him, answering "okay" before turning back the direction he had come.
He'd named his child after her.
Miranda hadn't told her that.
When the sounds of his footsteps was gone and they were alone again, the full weight of that voice was back on her.
"You're alive?" It was somewhere between wonder and accusation, his expression just as undecided between the two. She didn't know how to answer, so continued to remain silent. But after a brief pause he asked the real question, one someone would only know to ask if they knew her well enough. "How long?"
"About 2 and a half standard galactic."
His own spine seemed to bend against his will, like hers had at the sound of his own voice. But it didn’t last long when he processed her words. His expression turned hollow when he glanced over his shoulder at the direction his son had gone. He would be almost 4 by the same count. She couldn’t let him feel the way she knew he was in that moment. Despite herself she broke the silence.
"I was happy to hear you'd had a baby.” His gaze returned to her, growing in horror despite her efforts. “He's growing up well, in a galaxy without Reapers. That's all I needed."
"You didn't want me to know you were alive?"
His voice was almost broken, pulling her towards him a step before she regained herself. She let out a sign as she turned back towards the panel she’d been ready to work on, trying to sound as content and convincing as she had been when she’d made the decision. "I had no right to upset your life. You had done exactly what we had talked about. Another almost four years I was gone, my place in everyone's lives had changed."
He made an astounded sound at the realization. "No one else knows?"
"Just Miranda." She pulled her hands back from the wiring as she heard his tone turn to an angry growl, raising them to silence him. "It took her two years to make sure I wasn’t going to die. By then, well..." She looked down at her battered and worn hands, determined to hold to her decision. "Everyone had moved on."
Movement brought her attention back towards him as another figure moved over his shoulder. A female Turian came around him to look up at his face, her hand holding that of his son’s.
"Garrus? What are you doing back here?"
She could see it in his eyes and jumped to respond before he could find a way to say anything that would give her away. "He was just giving me some advice on this machine I'm working on, it was giving me some trouble when he passed by."
Her tones sounded genuine humor. "That's Garrus, always tinkering and calibrating."
She couldn't help but smile back, knowing far beyond that it was true. "He certainly knows his way around these things." She forced herself to meet his shocked gaze again, tones strangely silent as he stared blankly at her. "Thanks for your help, sir."
She turned back to the wiring and dove back into her work, hoping he would understand and leave with his family. Forget about her and think of his child, and what giving her away would do to the life he clearly wanted for him. The tones that reached her were broken, concerned and confused from the pair. She feared what would happen if she was forced to flee.
The sounds of their footfalls receding back into the more active areas was her boon and bane.
~~
It was months later when the door of her home chimed that she had a visitor. It was not uncommon, but it was unexpected. Jobs were usually made through vid-calls or messages sent to her business account, but the locals would sometimes drop by for advice or to schedule an appointment directly. It spoke to her of a simpler time in Human history so she had never broken them of the habit, rising from her chair and putting her reader on the table as she made her way to the door.
But when she opened it, it was that same figure she had been trying so hard to forget again. Even in non-descript civilian clothes he fills the doorway, standing almost to the height of the frame. When their eyes lock in recognition again, he doesn’t wait for permission to step inside.
She can’t help but back away from him, trying to maintain the distance she had put between them. He easily closes the door behind him, his eyes never leaving hers until it latches again. Then they only drop to her lips as he reaches for her, grabbing behind her neck and pulling her across the space she’s kept, pressing his mouth plates to her lips.
His tones groan in gratification at finally feeling a piece of her against him again, but it only takes a second for it to not be enough. His other hands reaches for her waist, pulling her body as flush with his as plating and flexibility allow. He deepens the kiss and she can’t help but reciprocate the action, but in her mind she knows this is wrong. Despite his urging and her traitorous mind, her hands remain at her sides, not even holding him for balance.
As keen as he seemed to get lost in her, a part of him noticed her reluctance and managed to slow his actions until he can break himself free of the temptation of her. Her eyes were sad when he met them, but she had not stopped him. It was a stark reminder of the way things had been in the beginning, her willingness to do anything he wanted, whatever would help him without speaking her own mind about it. At the time he had thought it just made things easier for them both, but with her actions and expression now it cast too much doubt.
Looking her over in a new light, the dawning of the idea almost made him sick. But he needed to know, both for his own state of mind and his self-torture over her, he needed the truth.
“Did you really want to be with me?”
He watched her eyes unblinking, his look leaving no room for doubt of what he wanted. Taking a breath, she answered him.
"Yes."
"Because you wanted it or because I did?" Ever the detective. She immediately knew his line of thinking and what the truth of it might actually do to him. But, as always, she gave him what he wanted.
“Yes.”
He started, clearly not the answer he had expected, or by the sadness growing in his eyes, what he had hoped for. She felt the need to explain.
"After I’d died over Alchera you suffered a lot on Omega. Out of everyone on my crew you needed more than anyone else a sense of purpose and belonging. A physical relationship was natural for your culture."
His look had shifted from shock to horror again, astounded at the realization of how much she would sacrifice for others without regard for her own self, wants and feelings.
"You didn't actually want me?" Had all of his searching for her, his loneliness and heartbreak been for nothing?
"I wanted to help you and it was the best way." He staggered away from her, falling harshly into a chair as the hide between his plates seemed to drain of color and a pained, tormented keen rose in his throat. She tried to explain, hands open and begging him to understand. "I was happy to be whatever you needed me to be, however far or fast you wanted it to go."
"But you didn't actually love me." He stated it like a fact, letting his head fall into his hands.
"I... I didn't know how." His sounds dropped back down and faded to confusion, lifting from his hands to find her eyes with uncertainty. Her greatest truth that she could share. It was less than he deserved from her for the pain in his eyes, but it was a start.
"My parents were both military. They didn't have much time for me, never showed much affection when I was growing up. My childhood was formed around what made their lives easier. But I was well provided for and I only wanted them to be happy. It was a mentality that dug in deep and I carried my whole life, even after I died.” His lower tones still trembled at the thought of what he had suffered through twice now. “It was what brought me to you in that way, but the longer I was in a relationship with you, the more I found it… wasn’t enough."
The words were almost hard for her to say, even now the thought of taking something for herself despite what it could do to others was near unthinkable… except when she looked back up at him. He could only watch her as she practically tortured herself by being so open with him. But it was a torture he couldn’t bear to stop, never having heard so much about her before, who she really was underneath it all. She couldn’t maintain the eye contact, not sure what was hidden behind his gaze, and she knew she had to finish getting it out.
"You were concerned about my happiness too, put yourself in uncomfortable positions and situations for no other reason than to try and make me happy. You wanted to make sure I enjoyed our physical time together as much as you did, reciprocating even at risk to yourself. It was a new feeling to have someone thinking about me. I had a lot of time to think about it when I was locked up on Earth. When I found you again and you talked about us retiring… I realized it was something I wanted too. But I also knew the risks of the mission and what it would do to you, to have that belonging and purpose taken away from you. You needed a new mission when it was over, and more than anything I had suddenly realized I wanted for myself, I needed you to be happy… No matter what happened to me.”
For the first time in many years, and several lives, she felt warm tears on her cheeks. But despite her shame, she had to look at him again. His eyes widened at the sight, though she did not give him time to interrupt.
“That was why I was so happy when Miranda told me you'd had a son, why I couldn't disrupt the life you'd made for yourself. I pushed everything I'd felt for you aside and went back to the way I had been before, no matter how much it felt like cutting out a piece me." Her voice finally broke under the pressure, but she continued to hold his gaze.
He had been shocked by her tears, but the catching of her voice brought him out of the chair and back to her side, towering over her. A gloved hand rose of its own accord to brush her tears away, earning him a broken gasp. Her hands came to his chest only to try weakly to push him away. “Your family.”
"I love my son, but I'm not with his mother." Her attempts froze as her wet eyes turned up to him, wide with confusion and a kind of hope he’d never seen before. "All able Turians were asked to help regrow our population. She was a friend of Solana's, had no interest in a relationship but wanted to do her part. She was more than happy to let me name him Shepard in your honor and we are both involved in raising him, but we are not together." Her heart rate increased, but his hand slipped slightly from her cheek, his eyes dropping away from her at his own confession. "After he was conceived... I just couldn't do it again. I felt like I had betrayed you and I couldn't seem to let it go… almost as if part of me knew you weren't really dead."
He looked back up as an audible sob broke her breathing, but instead of any sadness in her expression he found the purest of joy. Then, for the first time in their entire relationship, she grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked his head down to hers. They met in a hard clash, her lip caught between her teeth and his plates. He could instantly smell her blood but she refused to allow him to pull back. With her forceful insistence, a rumble built up in his chest and his arms rose again to wrap around her waist and tangle in her hair.
When she knew he wouldn’t pull away, one of her own left his shirt and went up to the back of his head, small fingers practically forcing their way under his fringe to his more sensitive hide. The rumble cut short in a loud groan, breaking their mouths apart as his hands instinctly tightened around her, both yanking on her hair and biting into her skin through the gloves and clothes.
But her response to the motion was not what he expected. Her head leaned back with his hand, keeping it thoroughly tangled, and her mouth fell open in her own breathy groan. He could see the split in her lip and his unfiled talons caught on her waist as he tried to remove them to sooth the angry skin. This was becoming dangerous for her, but her hands only tightened, clutching him closer to her. He looked back to her face hoping for her to say something, to bring them both down from the brink of it, but her eyes were nearly black with lust when she cracked them open to look at him
Her voice was deeper than he ever remembered during times like this, with a husky tone he didn’t recognize but instantly felt drawn in to. All she could manage to say was "please..." Again it was not what he had expected, surprised that she wanted this level, was even begging him for it. In their whole relationship she had never once asked for anything, always waiting for him to decide what was comfortable or asking what would work better for him. As uncertain as he was about where this would take them, he knew there was no way he could refuse her.
Tightening the talons at her waist as a sign of acceptance, he saw a smile break across her face before her head leaned back further into his hands and her eyes slide closed again. Her neck was stretched tight and it brought an idea to mind. Leaning down he used the hard plating on his mouth to nip at the skin, avoiding his teeth but still applying decent force.
The whimper it drew from her was so pleading and full of want that he felt his plates starting to loosen already. It broke some barrier that was holding him back. He turned to face the nearest wall, roughly pulling his hands from her and threw her back against it. She gasped and groaned when she hit, her eyes still just as black when they snapped open to look at him.
His own were trained on her like a predator and he sudden relished in the shiver it wrought from her. Stepping close again, he reach up and took hold of the straps of on her workmen’s overalls, ripping them from her shoulder and yanking them down past her hip. With the bottom of her shirt freed, he dragged his talons up her waist, lifting it as he went. Angry red welts were left in his wake, even though his gloves, and he found the sight against her pale skin continued the loosening of his plates.
They had always been slow and careful, not wanting his hard body and sharp talons to do any damage. He could see now that I had all been for the benefit of his state of mind. He never wanted to hurt her, and would not have thought that pain would excite her this way, having been put through enough of it in her daily life since he'd met her.
But despite his fears, her own arms worked between them to grip the bunched fabric of her overalls at her hips and push them the rest of the way down, pooling at the floor around her ankles. He abandoned her shirt, stuck on itself under her chest, and wrapped his talons around her now completely bare waist. Lifting her clear up off the floor took little effort, even with the extra weight of the cybernetics. Following the silent command, she kicked the material free of her bare feet before he let her back down. Yet he found his hands unwilling to move from the hollow of her waist.
The feel of her bare skin just beneath his gloves was too much torture. They had always left them on when his talons had grown sharper and needed dulling, but after so many years he needed desperately to feel her skin under his again. When their eyes met he was surprised that she still somehow seemed to know what he was thinking, her own eyes continuing to plead with him as she reached to start removing the material herself.
He let her, fascinated by the urgency and fumbling from the woman who had always been so calm and collected. When he was free of the small but stifling garments he couldn’t help the hushed groan when she let her hands brush against his palms. Then her finger continued up each of his in a more delicious torture and brushed against the sharpness of his talons. Under his heated gaze he saw a shiver rack her spine, but it was born of excitement instead of nerves.
She surprised him yet again by then guiding his hands to her chest, still covered by the material of her shirt. The worry of hurting her returned, but he still did not wanting to refuse her first time of requests. He palmed both of her breasts as she had taught him, only now realizing she had done so when he had insisted. He’d wanted to know more about her body and how to make her enjoy their time together, as much as she had researched and done for him
Beneath his grip he recognized the feeling of a second layer under her shirt and felt a moment of understanding. Flexing his talons in, as he never had when doing this before even when dulled, he let them bite into the material. Her eyes snapped closed and she gripped his shirt again to keep him close and she arched away from the wall. The material between them caught and pulled, the sharp points breaking small holes between them and reaching the skin as he squeezed her more roughly. Even through both layers he felt the hard peaks pressing back against his palm, drawing his body even closer to hers so he could grind against her.
He could tell she recognized the feeling of his parting plates through his civilian pants and the last piece of material that blocked his view of her lower body. Canting her hips into his own had him squeezing harder and her mouth falling open with another deeper sound he'd not heard before.
A poisonous thought entered his mind as he watched her, suddenly fearing that he had been too lax in pleasuring her before. Had he not been what she needed from the beginning? But then her hands were distracting him again, one slipping back between them to press against his opening plates. He openly moaned and thrust against her hand before she left him, setting about undoing the clasps on his pants as if she just done so yesterday.
Pulling one hand free of her to brace himself against the wall, he let his mouth return to her neck, delighted when she arched away to give him more room. He bit at her again with more force behind his plates but still no use of teeth. There were some lengths he would not risk for her safety, but she didn't seem to mind as she whimpered and pressed against him again.
His own pants came free of his hips and he panted again her skin at the cool air rushing against him. Leaving her chest completely, his other hand traveled down and hooked in the band of her underwear. Giving them a firm jerk he broke the hemline instead of pulling them down, having to yank again to free his talon. But it drew yet another sound from her as the now loose material slid down on its own. He didn't need to lift her for her to kick those away, but he caught her leg as it crossed between them and hauled it up higher, twisting her lower half to the side.
He had always wanted her to be comfortable, finding position on the bed with extra pillows, never risking his rough plates supporting her weight. But now, pressed against the wall with her leg hooked over his arm, her hips twisted and bent towards him at the waist to open her up at the perfect angle… It brought an almost possessive growl to his throat. Hoisting a little higher, she felt her other foot leave the ground completely and her hands rose up to the wall behind her to keep steady. Though it was hardly necessary as he pinned himself against her, his rough plates and civilian shirt dragging across her skin and sharing his extra warmth between them.
At her new height they were eye to eye and she couldn't stop herself from closing the gap and thumping his forehead with hers. It was a harder form of the gesture they had always done, and seemed the catalyst he had needed. With a groan he slipped free of his internal confines and immediately pressed up against her, desperate to find her entrance.
Again, as if it had only been yesterday, a slight shift of the angle he held her and his pointed tip found its goal between her wet folds. But as he started to slip in, her eyes were still focused on his, still so close. He suddenly decided that that wouldn't do and thrust up into her harshly. Her eye pinched shut at the intrusion, head slamming back into the wall even harder than she had hit his, and the deepest sound he’d heard yet ripped from her throat.
He didn't give her any time to adjust to his far wider base, yanking himself free and slamming home again. The air seemed to stop in her lungs, but one of her arms dropped to grab desperately at the shoulder of his shirt, pulling him in closer to her. Shifting her knee up to his elbow, he acquiesced and move closer on his next thrust, burying himself in her completely. At the same time his talon came to grip where her hip met her waist, both forcing her away as he withdrew and canting her forward to meet his every thrust.
A gasp got her breathing again, but each one came out in long moans, so close to his own auditory canal that he could feel them roll over him like sub-vocals. It made his grip harder on her, shortening shorten his thrusts and adding even more power to his strokes. Sweat had already broken out across her skin and he felt her constricting around him in a way so different to Turian women, but what he blissfully remembered of her. She was so close in such a short time that her climax shocked both of them.
She had gone completely rigid, save for the scream it ripped from her throat. Her nail threatened to break the material of his shirt, designed to hold against Turian talons, and her muscles tried to milk him into giving in already. He had usually slowed his movement to let her recover until her breathing had returned to normal, but now she gripped him so hard that he was forced to hold completely for fear of really hurting either of them. Her scream had been deafening, but he could still hear her panting rapidly, desperate to replace all the air she had used as her body tried to relax again.
It took several minutes before he was able or willing to move again, but it gave him time to remember his fear from before. He watched her expression, more relaxed and relieved than he had ever seen her and he couldn’t hold it in any longer. As she loosened around him her hips tried to continue the motions they had been making only to be stopped by his talons still holding her fast. Instantly feeling something was wrong, she stilled and found his eyes, searching for what it was.
"Was it not enough for you?" Her brown knit together in confusion, a worrisome sight after it had been so smooth and relaxed. He took another breath and tried better to explain. "When we were together before… had I been leaving you unsatisfied?"
Her forehead instantly relaxed again, her whole face softening in a smile as she leaned back against the wall, more gently this time. But it wasn’t the same smile he remembered, not even the one she had saved just for him. There was something about it that was... even more genuine and loving than it had been, and he had never thought it was lacking before. The sight itself set his pulse to racing, but he waited for her words.
When she had regained her breathing enough to speak, she lifted her head to look evenly at him again. "I always enjoyed myself, you made sure of that even though I never asked you to." But both of their eyes were drawn down the front of her, to the state of her ruined shirt, welted sides and talon-pricks bleeding on her hips. Licking her also bloody lip she seemed almost fascinated by how it made her feel. "This was something I'd never known I wanted."
While he feared that she could once again be saying what it was he needed to hear, the shyness as her eyes met his again told the truth. With everything else she had told him, was it so hard to believe she hadn’t given any thought to what she would want? But he still remembered how it felt to move slowly within her, building her up to the point of breaking apart beneath him. Was that something they had lost?
His grip had lessened on her hip, leaving her able to rock against him again. But in contrast to their previous pace, it was far less desperate while still sinking all of him within her. She had managed to read his mind once again and returned to that more tender touch, while still sinking his entire length into her instead of sparing her the thick base as he’d often tried to.
"Slow and gentle still feels just as good as it did." Her words were accented by softer gasps and a steadier panting as he continued the rhythm she had set with her hips. He more confidently sank deeper, but allowed his hand to run softly over her welted, angry skin. The sight still made his heart beat faster, expressing something similar to what she was saying. This gave them variety as well as expression without sacrificing either ones needs. But it still wasn’t perfect.
Taring his eyes away from hers, he glanced at the rest of the room behind him that he’d had yet to bother with. In the far back was a medium sized bed, too big for one but not quite enough for two. He knew without asking that she had found no other since she’d come back again. The thought gave him sudden surge of strength, lifting her away from the wall and managing not to trip or drop her as he crossed the room. Moving the pillows to suit their needs, he set her down gently and maneuvered her leg without pulling free of her. Settling between them he drew close and buried himself fully again.
But deep insider her he stilled and she didn’t complain, letting him take the moment she knew they both needed. He stared down at her, deep red hair messed and loose from its style to fan out around her, face flushed and more open than he’d ever seen it… it was everything his life had been missing for almost eight years. So much time had been lost, even after she had reawakened. He couldn't look away from her eyes as he started his gentle motions, as if worried she would fade from his grasp and he would be lost again. She seemed to feel the same, matching his hips with her own.
When one of her hands came to the more faded scars on his mandible, caressing just as gently, he almost keened. He pressed back against her hand before breaking away to lean down and kiss her, thrusting just a bit more desperately. She continued to match him, lifting a leg hook her foot on his hip, opening herself more without constricting his movements, and he could feel her muscles tightening around him again. Her moans were just as full of truth and emotion as he swallowed them.
Careful with his talons, not letting them touch her skin this time, he worked her shirt and bra up over her chest. Far more gently he palmed her exposed skin, soothing the angry marks and already hardening blood spots he had caused. While her sounds were not as loud or broken, he could hear just as much behind them and feel even more through her hand, sliding back up underneath his raised fringe. But now they were more encouraging than demanding.
They built at a steady pace, content to take as much time as they needed to get lost in each other. When it finally crested she gasped, arching her back and pressing closer to him as her muscles spasmed around him. But this time he did not stop, driving her higher and higher through her orgasm as he felt his own chasing after it. Only when it broke from him for the first time in too long, spilling into her as their voices cried out together, did he finally feel like everything was truly right in the galaxy.