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Bridget Ryder is an idiot; plain and simple.
At least…she certainly feels that way most of the time.
For all her charisma and literary knowledge, she tends to lack the finesse required to interact with people on a daily basis. Her confidence is largely feigned and she essentially stumbles through all her conversations, more often than not making a fool out of herself.
Today is definitely one of those times.
She’s been attempting to make peace with the newest member of her crew, but he seems adverse to any social interaction, especially from her. Their conversations are usually awkward and stilted, with neither party offering much of value. This time was a little different…Or it had been at the start. He’d opened up to her about the angara’s culture and their history with the kett, but the moment she’d asked about their biology, things went south.
“How long have you had electromagnetic capabilities?” she asks with enthusiasm. “How did they evolve?”
“No idea,” he answers plainly. “Biology doesn’t interest me. But I’m sure you can easily read up on it.”
She can’t quite hide her disappointment and a small pout makes its way onto her face. It stems less from the fact that he can’t answer her question and more so because of his apparent disinterest in the topic. Not only does he not seem to enjoy their time together, but he can’t be bothered with one of the few topics that greatly interests her.
“Really? No biology at all?” she asks incredulously.
“How do your eyeballs work?”
He answers her question with a curt question of his own. And while she can sense it’s meant to be rhetorical, she can’t resist giving him a proper response. This particular concept just excites her too much.
“An internal lens focuses an image onto the retina where it becomes electrical impulses that are deciphered by the brain!”
She’s grinning ear to ear, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. She can’t help but feel a measure of pride for remembering that little tidbit from her high school science course, but her excitement is cut short by Jaal’s reaction.
“You took my sarcasm as an invitation to show off,” he notes with a hint of displeasure. “Pitiful.”
Her world comes to a crumbling halt.
The smile on her face doesn’t disappear immediately, but it does become more akin to that of a deer caught in the headlights. Her chest grows tight as his words sink in.
Pitiful…
Shit, he’s right…What is she even doing? Shoving her knowledge in his face to prove she’s better than him? Forcing him to engage in conversations that he clearly doesn’t want to be a part of just because she has a stupid crush on him? She’s not just pitiful…she’s downright pathetic.
Her expression of happiness fractures and she takes a shaky breath. “S-sorry…Guess I don’t know when to shut up,” she says with a forced smile and a self-deprecating laugh.
Bridget can see his expression shift slightly to one of concern, but she doesn’t plan to stick around to hear what he has to say. “I, um…” she mumbles. “I’ll just go.” She practically trips over her own feet as she flees the room, eager to be as far away from him as possible.
She makes it to her room in record time, locking the door behind her before collapsing onto her bed.
Fuck, what is wrong with her? Why does she always drive away the people she cares about the most? How many friends had accused her of being a know-it-all? And why hadn’t she listened to them?
Tears begin to pool in her eyes and she shoves her face against her pillow.
It hadn’t just been a problem in the Milky Way; her bad luck seems to have followed her to Andromeda. No one respects her role as Pathfinder…her crew included. She tries to hide how much it stings when they leave the meetings without a proper dismissal, but it hurts nonetheless. The members of the Tempest have been friendly on the surface, but for the most part, haven’t been particularly receptive to her attempts to befriend them.
Cora all but accused her of stealing her promotion, Peebee doesn’t seem interested in staying despite Bridget’s attempts to reach out to her, and Jaal…Jaal doesn’t want to have anything to do with her.
Her parents are dead, her brother’s in a coma, and everyone around her seems to tolerate her at best. She’s never felt so alone.
Bridget curls inward on herself and lets out a sniffle.
Why did it happen this way? Why did her sorry excuse of a father finally decide to play the hero when he’d let her down countless times before? Why did he think giving her this role was a good idea?
Deep down, she knows that if Alec had stayed Pathfinder, everyone would be better off for it. He was always respected, up until he’d created SAM, but even then, he was able to regain that status by kickstarting the Initiative.
She lies in bed, rolling in her self-doubt for longer than she’d like to admit, before a soft, tentative voice rings in her head.
“Pathfinder…?”
She jolts upon hearing the AI’s voice and immediately rushes to wipe her eyes. “Yeah?” she squeaks before clearing her throat. “W-What is it, SAM?”
“You appear to be distressed…Your dopamine and serotonin levels have decreased significantly and I’ve detected a rise in cortisol. Would you like me to notify Dr. T’Perro?”
“N-No…” she answers immediately, shoving her face into her hands. “No, SAM…I just…” A shaky breath escapes her. “I just need…”
What does she need? Time alone? A shoulder to cry on? A friend? Hell if she knows…and she doubts the AI will have the answers she’s looking for. Besides, the last thing she wants to do is burden him with her pain.
A pang of guilt shoots through her when she remembers that SAM experiences the world through her. He must have been feeling her sadness as though it was his own…No wonder he reached out to her.
“I’m sorry, SAM…” she says weakly. “I didn’t mean to make my problems yours…I…Just give me a minute, I can distract myself with something else.”
There’s a pause before SAM responds. “I believe you are misinterpreting my intent…While it is true that I experience what you feel, I do not resent sharing your reactions to the world…I brought it to your attention because I am concerned about your well-being. In addition, I do not believe it is healthy to suppress your emotions – it is widely accepted that discussing your concerns with a therapist or loved one can be beneficial to the healing process. Alec never listened to such advice, but it is my hope that I can offer whatever aid you require.”
Bridget pauses for a moment as she allows his words to sink in.
It’s true…whether intentionally or not, much like their father, she and Emmett have a tendency to repress their feelings. Their mom had always joked that the Ryder family was emotionally constipated. She can’t help but snort at the memory.
Lexi has made a few attempts to check in on her mental state, but it’s still difficult for her to open up too much.
Part of her worries the asari will judge her for her weakness, despite the logical half of her mind knowing she would do no such thing. Despite reason telling her that her doctor is there to support her, she can’t help but fret over keeping up the illusion of being a strong leader.
Just like her dad.
Sighing, she presses her face against the pillow. “I feel…alone, SAM,” she says, her voice barely a whisper.
“Would you like me to contact any of the crew members for you?”
“No, SAM, I mean…” Bridget lets out a groan. “Sometimes, even when you’re surrounded by people, you can feel super isolated…Like even if they act friendly towards you, there’s always going to be this disconnect… I hate that feeling.”
SAM is silent for a moment before responding, “I believe I am familiar with this phenomenon. Alec displayed similar symptoms as well.”
“Did he, now?” she asks with sarcasm.
“Yes.”
A bitter chuckle escapes her as she considers the AI’s words. “Well,” she says wryly. “Figures.”