Chapter Text
“Liam, Liam, Liam.” Sara breathes his name like a mantra as he lies limply in her arms. His skin is so clammy and cold underneath her fingertips and the Tempest is still three minutes away.
“You can’t do this to me,” she whispers, running a hand through his hair. “I need you. We all do.”
That’s the issue at the heart of the whole matter; that Liam places a higher value on her life than his own. When they’re alone, he’s gotten better at treating her just like the ordinary human she’s always been, but on the battlefield? Traces of deference to the Pathfinder are all too common. Maybe she could wave it away as chain of command but part of her still thinks, deep down, that Liam believes she is more important, more necessary, than he is.
(She recalls, briefly, one of her first Alliance dalliances; there are regs, she’d been told, and in response, she’d simply said I won’t tell if you won’t. She now realises just how important those regulations had been.)
Sara feels a lance of hot anger and guilt lance through her when several more seconds pass and Liam still refuses to move. “You idiot,” she growls, clutching one of his shoulders. She’d shake him if it wouldn’t aggravate his injury. “I’m not worth this.”
The rage passes as quickly as it had risen, and in its absence, all that Sara is left with is fear. She lowers her head as she feels her eyes well up with tears. Despite the situation, despite everything, she still hates crying in public. “I love you,” she whispers to him, shoulders shaking, “I love you.” She’s not sure how many time she repeats the words to herself, over and over again, too scared to say what she’s really thinking: please don’t leave me alone.