Work Text:
This first time she shot someone, it had been a mistake. A god's honest mistake. It was a raid early in the morning at the Reds’ hideout, she just needed somewhere to sleep for the night. The place with one extra bed had been with her friend, who just joined the gang. It was a simple favor, and Shepard was supposed to leave right when she woke up.
The sun was just rising over the horizon, light trickling in through the blinds. When she awoke, the sounds of peoples yelling didn’t even connect in her brain. She’d lived in the city her whole life, waking up to loud noises, cars honking and police sirens was a normal occurrence. The soft light, the warm bed, and a moment's peace was all she focused on. She remembers how the blanket she was given was scratchy, but warm. It was a gross pea green color, too.
A voice that couldn’t have been much older than her own was yelling, telling people to grab their shit and run. Someone, she still doesn’t know who, yanked her up by her arm, making her yelp in pain. She staggered up, her knees wobbly and black dots in her vision from getting up too fast made her want to wait, but she understood why she couldn't.
“ Run to the back and leave. Hurry.” She was told. She stumbled, still hazy from just waking up, and tried her best to avoid running into other people, catching an eye of a cop, or fall. Doing as she was told, she ran. But she didn’t have her shoes, she didn’t have her knife, she didn’t have anything. She just woke up.
She yanked the door knob of the rooms door open, stumbling back slightly. The old wooden floor boards creaked with every heavy step or stomp people made as they tried to make haste and escape. The police were at the front door, she could hear them yell for everyone to come out. They said they wouldn’t hurt them, but the police never did her any favors in the past. The back door, she remembered, ‘ no time to think.’ In contrast to the others frantic attempts to run, she tried to be quiet.
She thought she made it after she maneuvered the hallways of the hideout and made it to the backway alley. She hunched over after taking a few more awkward and tired steps, slowly trying to piece together what the fuck happened. She was heaving hard as sweat dripped from her forehead.
She ran a hand through her hair, all tangled and knotted. Her hand shaking from the adrenaline.
“Shit, Shepard! Are you okay kiddo?” She knew that voice--She quickly snapped her head up, and was faced with the familiar figure of her friend, Ash. At least, that was the name she introduced herself as when they first met. “Fuck--This is all my fault. A cop followed me. The reds are going to be pissed--we need to get out of here.”
Shepard nodded and took a steady breath. The rest happened too fast. A figure loomed behind her friend, blood dripping from their arm. The sound of it dripping became the only sound echoing in the alley. Ash realised there was someone behind her by the look on Shepards face, and instantly tensed up. She didn’t dare to move, but she tried her best get a glance at the person behind her without moving her head. Her eyes were already bloodshot, Shepard noticed. When was the last time Ash even slept?
A subtle ‘click’ was made from the gun the figure was holding as the cool metal from the barrel tapped against Ash's’ head. “You can’t run. ‘Never works.” The figure said. “ And some one needs to pay. We lost too many people today, and you think you can just leave?” It was a masculine voice, it was strong, but you could hear the exhaustion and strain they were in. Shepard could still hear the drips of blood as they hit the concrete.
Shepards heart was beating out of her chest, the yelling from the hide out, the blood dripping, the police sirens--it was all too much. But yet, it was all happening so slowly.
Some people, when faced with a crises--tense up. They freeze.
Shepard was guilty of it sometimes too. She was just a kid, not some soldier. This time, however, Shepard didn’t even think. All caution went out the window as Shepard lunged at the figure, pushing them to the ground. Ash staggered back, the realization of how close they where to death hitting them hard.
But Shepard didn’t even spare Ash a second glance, as now all their were focused on was getting the gun away from the attacker.
Fighting with a loaded gun in someone's hand is never a good idea.
Sure, Shepard wasn’t thinking, but they never went into the fight thinking they were going to kill them. She only carried her own knife around to scare people off, or just hurt them enough for them to leave her alone. She wasn’t a killer. She just--It was only--She had to save her friend. She won’t let anyone die in front of her if she could help it. She didn’t believe in fate, never had.
They wrestled for the gun, but the fight came to a halt at the sound of a gunshot ringing in her ears. Shepard's eyes widened as blood leaked out from the figures neck. He was gasping for air, his eyes wide open. He didn’t want to die. All of them, everyone in the hideout, they were just kids. Earth was in a shit state, no one had parents, no one had money--but these situations, the garbage things that happen in the city where normal.
That shitshow of a morning didn’t make her special.
Shepard never thought she’d be in the middle of it. It was always other people's stories, it was always someone else. Everything since she woke up had been happening so quickly though. She didn’t understand that the situation she was is in had happened to too many kids. The story always ends the same.
But Shepard held the gun in their hands. She had shot them.
When Shepard looked up, their eyes searching for their friend--the empty alleyway told them their answer.
It was an accident.
Shepard wasn’t a kid anymore.
From the brief education Shepard had, she could only think of what Buzz Aldrin said when he described the moon. “ Magnificent desolation”, It sounded like he was describing a dream with those words . When she first stepped down with her unit, the voice of her old teacher rang in her mind. Time did not treat Aldrins words well. The moon had many traces of life. It was changed, however, it was no longer pure.
But it was cold. Not the kind of cold on a snowy day on earth. It was numbingly intense, if not for her armor. The mention of snow in the back of her mind would bring her back to home, Earth. She’d never stop scolding herself for thinking about earth with such affection. It was that planet that gave her nothing, so why bother reminiscing about it? Nostalgia, what a bitch.
It was so easy to slip back into her old mindset of her time with the Reds, after that night in the alley. Shoot first, ask later. She started running with the gang after seeing that she could get a place to sleep every night if she just did as they asked. She was the few that was able to even aim.
It was so easy to not think and just shoot. It worked well in the Military--Well, sometimes. When it didn’t she got in trouble. In times like this though, with a fuck ton of aliens she couldn’t give any less of a shit about if she tried, her ‘get the job done’ mindset was a god send in her superior's eyes. ‘Just get the job done’ worked well when she was on Earth. ‘ you’ve already gone through hell, this is nothing.’ She’d think, ‘ I’m just another face, another soldier. More Batarians dead, who cares?’
A lot of people did, apparently. The harsh reality hit her once the job was done. Even though she had a gun, it didn’t mean she had to kill. It could mean to protect. It could save. She could save. When she was told that in training, she internally laughed it off. She grew up in the shit of it all, she thought she knew better. Maybe she had done the right thing, now those Batarians never have the chance to hurt others. Even though they were begging. They didn’t want to die.
But that day on Torfan, she was just the executioner.
The Media always did love fancy titles.
She scrunched up her eyes while she lied in bed that night she returned. The face of a Batarian begging for her not to shoot echoed in her mind. All four of that aliens damned eyes looked so pained. Young. Right or wrong, who was she to decide? She knew when she was younger, she never wanted to be a killer. She couldn’t sleep after that night in the alley on earth for months. She had the silly idea that joining the Alliance was the right thing, it would help.
She smirked at her past self, the thought, ‘getting used to holding a gun will fix this’ seemed so rational at the time. No matter what, she’s taking when she kills. For the alliance or not. She’s taking, and taking, till all that’s left is a false sense of pride. Protecting Earth, serving the people. What bullshit.
Was what happened on Torfan protecting the people?
She covered her face, that Batarians face refused to leave her mind. Let me forget, let me forget. I made a mistake--I just--
“It wasn’t an accident this time.” She whispered in her bunk. She felt a hollow ache in her chest, she could no longer hide behind her excuses. She was an adult now, legally.
A selfish, stupid adult.
She’d wake up the next day and decide to finish her N7 training. She’d hear whispers of others mention Torfan in her passing. She’d catch their lingering glances. She’d keep walking. Keep moving.
Years later her friend on shore leave mentioned that Shepard felt too much. It was an odd thing to say, which made Shepard raise an eyebrow. He spoke with a wide grin, his stance swaying a tad as he talked. “ I’d never thought the butcher of Torfan would a softie.” He said, “ But hey, just proves looks can be deceiving.”
She felt herself tense up at the mention of the title. Her fist was clenched, ready to throw a punch and blame it on the alcohol tomorrow. Besides, when does not killing everything in sight make her a softie? Bullshit, bullshit. Thoughts passed in her mind faster than a comet. A comment that at first, made her uncomfortable, made her see red in a matter of seconds.
'Keep your anger under control.’ A wise, cautious thought told her. However it was quickly overshadowed by a loud, angry inner voice yelling, ‘ Teach that fucker that you earned your title.’
The idea that someone from Earth could be a softie was insulting, not only to her, but to the other soldiers who joined for similar reason. Soldiers like her. With her scars, her history, it tore at every part of her body. She felt the anger throughout her blood. Despite not liking her past, she liked the idea of people respecting it.
She liked how it protected her.
How scary the title of Butcher of Torfan sounded by passing soldiers, their questioning glances asking if ‘Is that really her?’ It insured that what happened on earth would never happen again. It separated her from her thirteen year old self, scared and alone, to her at twenty two. It erased her time with the Reds. It made her friend who left her seem insignificant.
But she let go of her fist, relaxing her stance. She felt the corners of her mouth twitch as she leaned in closer to her drunk friend, Her voice lowering as she spoke “ Oh no, don’t get the wrong idea. I don’t regret a single thing on Torfan. I’d do it again.”
“Liara, have a minute?” Shepard asked while she was entering Liara’s usual hideout on the Normandy, behind the medbay. It’s been a few years since the shore leave that night with her friend. Now, the Butcher is a Spectre and the only hope for catching Saren, a rogue Turian Spectre. How unsettling must that be for the Batarians?
Liara jumped in her seat before regaining her composer and standing up, if not a tad frazzled. Liara could say a lot about the human known as Commander Shepard. However, she knew next to little about who the spectre actually was.
She learned about the Commanders past, her military career mostly--but if you asked Liara what made Shepard laugh, she wouldn’t know. Communicating and making friends is a bit of a foreign concept to Liara. Instead of playdates when she was younger, she was reading history books her mother got her. It made her happy, and she has no regrets. Although she’d admit, it left her at a great disadvantage in times like these.
Commander Shepard. The woman intrigued her. Liara wanted to know the details, the emotions, how Shepard kept going, why Shepard kept going. Was it a human thing? She spent her first day on the Normandy learning everything she could about the Spectre. It didn’t help that Shepard interacted with a prothean beacon, not at all. It made every question the Asari ask seem...invasive, like she was treating Shepard like a test subject, which was not what Liara was intending to do.
“Of course Commander. I expected you had many questions.” She said, voice wavering only a little. Shepard quirked an eyebrow and folded her arms, leaning against the wall next to the door. “If you want to know about Beniza, I--”
“We talked about Beniza last time, I trust you Liara. You don’t need to worry.” The Commander replied with a soft voice, understanding the anxiety in the Asari. “I was hoping to get to know you better, if that was alright.”
That was a question Liara wanted the most. Maybe they’d have lunch and discuss everything-- anything. It wouldn’t be weird, Liara wouldn’t just be asking the Commander question after question, it would be mutual. Shepard wants to know about her, and Liara is dying to know about her.
However, that didn’t translate into what Liara wanted to say. At all. “Right--sorry, Like I said before, I’ve never...humans, I--”
“Take a breath, Liara. Really. If you want I can come back later. You're not the first person to be intimidated by me.” A small smile formed on the Commander's lips. “Just do me a favor, talk to the rest of the crew. Not everyone on the ship is human, maybe you’ll feel more comfortable once you get to know everyone.”
And with that, the Commander left. Liara’s heart felt like it was about to burst out of her chest.
“Simple infatuation, that’s all.” Liara sighed. “ Also anxiety. A lot of anxiety.”
Liara had always prided herself in being a quick learner, so the slight...learning curve that came with serving on the Normandy left her a tad out of her element. It didn’t affect the spark that made her want to work with Shepard in the first place however. It just motivated her more.
“Oh, Commander! You mention being interested in the Asari history, so I picked up a couple of books on the Citadel that I’ve always loved--” Liara quickly said the minute the Commander walked into her ‘office’ behind the medbay. The Commander couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the Asari frantically picking up multiple-- wait are those old fashion books? “Don’t worry--They’re in galactic standard.” Liara said, catching the look on Shepard's face.
Liara handed them to Shepard, their hands touching for only a moment. Liara was talking without stumbling over herself. After a couple of missions they’ve spent together, the previous awkward tension seemed to fade. Liara had been spending more time with the rest of the crew, due to Shepards recommendation. All of her previous worries no longer bothered her. Aside from Ashleys....blunt questions, even they seemed to have a mutual respect.
“Thank you Liara,” Shepard said, oh no--Shepard can’t stop smiling. But from just looking at Liara it seemed impossible to stop. Shepard had to put her hand to the side of her own face just to try and calm down. Oh--her face feels hot. Is she blushing? Liara, however, hadn't even noticed. She seemed too wrapped up in talking about each book she picked out.
Then Shepard just looked at her. The small freckles on Liaras face she never noticed before seemed to catch her eyes, and she couldn’t stop look at her lips as she talked. She swallowed hard. Trying her best to focus on what Liara was saying, because she really was interested in learning more. It was just...difficult when the person talking is apparently really attractive.
So far, Shepards feelings for Liara had not caused much trouble. The spectre had always been able to focus on her mission, no matter any personal feelings she had. With moments like this though, after a mission and time to spare, it made her...pause. It forced her to come face to face with what she thought about her crew.
“I tried to pick out as many unbiased books, but I think you understand to take everything in these books with a...what was the human saying? A grain of salt?”
Shepard let out a small laugh, but nodded. “Got it. Thank you again, Liara.”
“Of course Commander. If you have any questions, I’d love to answer them.”
“Any excuse I have to hear you talk, I’ll use. Don’t you worry.” She said with a smile, and left as suavely as she could. And she tried really hard. Being suave isn’t her strong suit, she’d admit. It took a moment for Liara to realise what Shepard said. It result in Liara falling back in her seat, with her hands covering her face cursing herself for not catching on sooner.
Shepard had rough, calloused hands. It seemed to fit with her being a soldier. At first, it seemed like nothing to look at. But Liara’s eyes lingered when Shepard was driving the Mako. It was something to focus on during Shepard's...intense driving. Liara noticed the small details. Her blunt, short nails were like a pair of matching earrings to the scabs on her knuckles. Her left ring finger was bent slightly to the left, while her right thumb had a smooth scar in place of a fingerprint.
Shepards grip on the steering wheel was hard, like even her own driving skills scared her a bit. But the fear was overrun by the smile on her face. An adrenaline junkie, of course. Kaidan explained the term to Liara before. Liara told him that many younger Asari were the same. That was a few days prior.
It was Shepard, Liara, and Wrex in the Mako, when Liara asked if Shepard agreed with Kaidan calling her an adrenaline junkie. Shepard laughed and nodded her head. “I guess I started to like the feeling when I was fifteen and started going on roller coasters.” She said, “I well, I only went on one once. It's a normal summer thing to do on earth when you’re a kid. I snuck in, and I could only get on one ride before security noticed me.”
Shepard was looking forward driving, Liara could tell by the look on her face that she was remembering the memory fondly. It was as if she could still feel what she felt when she was younger. The rest of the mission was in a comfortable silence, while an occasional comment from Wrex.
When Liara asked the rest of the crew, they said the Commander smiling was a rare thing. It either meant something horrible was about to happen, or....something worse than horrible was about to happen.
It surprised Liara at first, because she saw the Commander smile a lot. From when she gave her the reassuring smile when they first met, to earlier today when Liara gave her a cup of coffee.
Maybe she had just been lucky.
But she liked to think it was something more.
Grounded. The Council could eat shit, never had the Commander felt so pissed. She had evidence, she had people who believed in her, she had authority. She worked her ass off to get her where she was. Instead, she was being brushed to the side, like a child being told no. “ Sorry Shep, let the adults take care of it.” After all the Invalidating, embarrassing, disrespecting things she’d had dealt with in the past, she just thought that now, she made it.
Sure, the vid com calls prior to this had been....disheartening. But she thought that when it came down to it, she was a Spectre. She was sent to catch Saren, and now that she could-- Now that she knew exactly where she was they had the nerve to ground her.
What do all these titles get her? Commander Shepard, the Butcher of Torfan, The first human Spectre, and yet she still felt like she was still on Earth and she was still running with the Reds.
She entered her cabin and just wanted to yell. But no, the crew was still on board and having them wonder about their Commanders sanity was not another thing she wanted to deal with. No, no she had to keep her cool. She had to--
She had to breathe.
She glanced at the books that Liara got her. She’d finished reading all of them, except for one that she was half way through. She’d read after a mission when she was done with reports. Sleeping had always been a hard thing for Shepard. The guilt from all her dumbass decision have weighed on her during the years. It would seem wrong if she was able to sleep easy.
She relaxed as she felt the tension of her body calm after her back hit the cot in her cabin, however. She’d let out a sigh each time, as if she’d never slept in her life. It became a routine to lie down and read one of the books Liara got her.
And it made things better. A lot better.
Shepard never really had much of an education. She had bits and pieces of when she still went to public school, but eventually she couldn’t waste her time there anymore. Which is why....it sometimes sucked to like Liara. Liara was smart, and Shepard wasn't. Liara spent her whole life learning about the past, reading, studying. It’s not like being in the military isn’t hard work, but learning the ins and outs of a gun is different from learning about a past alien civilization. It’s different from having your own dig site, publishing papers, getting a degree.
Liara is out of her league. Hell, the only reason Liara talks to her is because Shepard touched a Prothean beacon. It helps that Liara has such low expectations for humans too, because Shepard knows that Liara wouldn’t bat an eye at her if things were different.
Shepard admits that it takes her longer to read the books Liara gets her then most people. She admits that she had to look up every five minutes what a certain words meant.
Shepard isn’t stupid, she’s just never...she just had a different life than Liara.
As long as Shepard can hold a gun, then she’s useful.
The minute she can’t shoot, can’t fight, then what’s the point? It’s one of those goddamn thoughts that Shepard had never been able to get rid of.
Liara...she had so many opportunities. So many different paths in front of her. Shepard is stuck. The commander knows not to think like that, but it gets so hard when life gives her this.
She’s grounded.
She doesn't have any other cards in her deck.
The next time Shepard saw Liara, she didn’t think like that. When she saw Liara, she didn’t think about herself, she didn’t compare herself, she just wanted to listen. She wanted to hear what Liara was thinking. She wanted to talk about anything--everything.
She wasn’t in love. She just wanted to know her.
Love isn’t something that comes easy to Shepard. But she likes Liara. She likes how she talks, how passionate she is about Protheans, how she loves sharing her knowledge. Shepard knows that even if she told Liara about her insecurities, that the Asari wouldn’t be upset. She’d want to help, she’d tell Shepard that she could do anything. Because the way that Liara looks at her, it makes her feel like she can. When they’re in the middle of a fight, Liara followed her orders without a second thought, how much power Liara had and yet she trusted this random human Spectre into battle--How much Liara believes what Shepard says.
Liara isn’t Alliance, she doesn’t have to do this. Neither does Garrus, Tali, or Wrex. But they all believe that Shepard can do what she says. They’ve all seen her fight. They’ve heard what she’d done.
But when she looks at Liara, she believes in herself a little more. She knows she’s capable. The people who pass the N7 program have to be. But fuck, maybe she doesn’t have to be terrifying in order to succeed.
When Liara extends her hand to lift her up, Shepard didn’t want to let go. When their lips almost touched, it just felt like it was how things were supposed to be.
Shepard never believed in fate. But she liked to daydream that she was meant to meet Liara. That it was written in the stars.
The night before....everything happened, she didn’t really expect for Liara to show up. She wasn’t complaining. Not at all. She just...she wanted something more. She didn’t want Liara to disappear after they caught Saren. She didn’t want to have sex to substitute as a goodbye. When Liara walked through the door, however, Shepard didn’t know how to say that. She didn’t know when she stopped being Commander Shepard, and just Deli. Shepard is never scared, The Butcher of Torfan doesn’t second guess herself. She’s ruthless, selfish, and terrifying.
Maybe Liara could see it in Deli’s eyes. The fear.
God, Shepard has experienced a fuck ton of bullshit. Actually terrifying stuff, war, death, starvation, but this? This is when Liara see’s Deli like this?
When Liara placed her hand the side of Delis face, her expression soft--the silence between the two comfortable and safe, Deli couldn’t help but lean in, exhaling a deep sigh. They took a step closer together as their foreheads touched.
And they smiled.
Shepard has spent her whole life alone, the few shallow relationships meant as stress relief had worked thus far. It’s always an easy thing to do, to blame others for your own fear. Acting like Liara was better than her was just a way for Shepard to ignore what she was afraid of. But right then, in that moment, Shepard wasn’t thinking of an escape root, she wasn’t thinking about Saren or the Council. She was thinking about how nice it felt being close to Liara. How amazing she was. How safe--god she hated that word--but she just-- she could breathe.
Shepard let her hands rest on Liara’s hips. She was so close, Liara was right there in front of her and had no intention of leaving.
“After all of this is over and Saren is dealt with, how about you and I visit Thessia together? I haven’t been in so long, and you’ll definitely need a small vacation after--” Liara began, but that was all Shepard needed to hear, even the idea of still seeing each other after the whole Saren ordeal was over was enough. Shepard moved both of her hands to the sides of Liara’s face and brushed her lips over hers.
Liara smiled into the kiss, pushing Shepard back to the cot.
They were more alike than they wanted to admit. Liara was just as scared, but she didn’t want to risk Shepard not knowing how she felt. Liara tried to research as much as she could about humans, but it would result in awkward conversations, her trying to hard. The more she talked to Shepard, the more she learned through her, the more terrified she felt.
Because she knew it wasn’t simple infatuation or simple curiosity anymore.
She loved the way she laughed, how absolutely crazy she drove the Mako, how much she knew about guns and strategy, even the little details about the Normandy--She always knew more than she led on. She always seemed to have a hidden card.
And Liara loved it. Shepard always wanted to learn more, she never wanted to offend Liara, and she always wanted Liara to speak her mind.
She always wondered how humans hair felt.
If the rumors of how easily the skin on human's neck bruise.
How many freckles does Shepard have?
“Is this alright?” Liara asked, sudden clarity of what was happening hit her. She remember how hesitant Shepard was at first. Shepard didn’t even kiss her hard--it wasn’t a ‘passion’ filled kiss, even though it quickly became heated. It was simple, almost innocent at first--which are words no one would use for Shepard. But it filled Liara with a sense of pride, knowing that Shepard is willingly showing this side to her.
“I’m....more than fine with continuing. Are you?”
Liara was looking down at Shepard on the cot, her hair disheveled and out of breath, grinning.
She was going to be the death of her.