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“Commander,” the young MP on guard duty greeted when she opened the door.
They weren’t supposed to call her that, but none of them could seem to figure out what to call her instead. Another had tried “Ms. Shepard” once - he’d immediately grimaced like he had food poisoning and never said it again. She told them just Shepard was fine, but, no matter what the brass said, they saw her a certain way. She let it go - at least this one wasn’t saluting her. “Yes, Lance Corporal Kabinoff?” she asked. And if she sounded a little annoyed, well, it was getting late and Shepard was just sinking into her book - god, this whole house arrest thing was turning her into an old lady.
“You have a visitor, ma’am,” Kabinoff replied before stepping off to the side, and Shepard got a glimpse about 15 years into her future.
She’d always vehemently denied that there was any resemblance between her and her mother, but something - distance, death, whatever - had changed that. She definitely saw it now, and it gave her a pang of familial fondness she was unaccustomed to. “Mom,” she said quietly.
Hannah smiled, her eyes wet. “Hey, Vi. Got time to catch up?”
Shepard blinked a few times, thrown off balance by the old nickname. Only one person had called her that in the last few years, and she was trying very hard to keep her mind off of him. She swallowed and set her jaw, moving to let her mother inside and closing the door.
Viola took a deep breath and turned to face Hannah. She had to look down at her - she had been the taller one since the first time they’d reunited 17 years ago. “I didn’t think they’d let you visit,” she said. She folded her arms across her chest, a silent signal that she wasn’t ready to be touched. Her mom was demonstrative in her affection, but it was only ever on Viola’s terms.
Hannah gave her space, moving to look out the window. “I had to ask a few times. Luckily, Admiral Anderson has a soft spot for you and me, so he cleared the way.” She smiled softly at the Vancouver skyline.
Viola huffed a laugh. “What are you gonna do if he ever cashes in on all the favors you owe him?”
Hannah turned and caught her eye for a moment. “I think you knocked out a few of them taking out Sovereign and making him Councillor,” she quipped.
“Are you kidding? I don’t think he’ll ever forgive me for making him play politics.”
“Hmm,” Hannah hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe if you beat the Reapers he’ll call it even.”
Viola’s posture relaxed a bit, and she stepped up next to her mother, joining her in staring out the window. “So… you believe me?”
Hannah’s head whipped around to face her. “What?! Vi, of course I believe you. I was at the Citadel - I saw that thing!”
Viola shrugged. “So did the Council. So did millions of other people. Still feels like the only people who believe the Reapers are real are the ones who were on my crew. And… fucking Cerberus, I guess.”
Hannah scoffed. “‘Geth ship’ my squishy human ass,” she muttered. “That was the joke of the century, and trust me, I’m not the only one who thinks so. You’ve got more friends than you think in the Alliance, even if the higher ups won’t admit it.”
“Friends will help,” Viola said with a sigh, “but we won’t get very far without actual preparation. And I can’t do shit locked up in here.”
There wasn’t much Hannah could say to that - she was right, and they were both powerless to do anything about it. They stood there in silence for a few minutes, watching a shuttle take off from the spaceport a few kilometers from the base and basking in each other’s presence in their own way. Eventually, Viola’s arms loosened and fell to her sides, and her gaze dropped to the floor. “Mom…” she whispered. “I’m afraid I fucked up.”
“Oh, Vi,” Hannah soothed. She wrapped an arm around her daughter’s shoulders and pulled her closer. “I’m not going to pretend I know what you’re going through, and apparently the details are classified. But I know you’ve never taken death lightly. I know that whatever the hell happened in that system, you made the call you had to make. If you had fucked up, you would admit it. You wouldn’t be saying you were afraid - you would be sure of it, and you would own up to it, because that’s the kind of person you’ve always been.”
Viola shook her head. “Heh. You sound like…” She trailed off, pinching the bridge of her nose - she was not going to cry about this again.
Hannah rubbed Viola’s shoulder. “Whoever I sound like must be pretty smart.”
Viola took a deep breath to gather herself. “Smarter than he thinks he is, to be honest. At least about this kind of stuff. Arrogant as hell about other things.” Fuck. She wasn’t supposed to be thinking about him, and she definitely wasn’t supposed to be talking about him.
“Should I ask?” Hannah was trying not to smile.
“No.”
“Point taken. But, listen.” She stepped around in front of Viola, encouraging her to meet her eyes. She did, after a moment. “Whatever hell rains down on us, I have your back. I’ll always have your back. So will Anderson. So will your crew, I’m sure. I know you’re going to give this fight everything you can, but you need to remember you aren’t in it alone. Let some of your people help carry the burden, or there won’t be any of you left.”
Viola turned away - she felt her walls instinctively going up, though she tried to fight it. She was no good at this sort of thing.
Hannah sighed. “I’m sorry, Vi. I know. And you know how much I wish things had been different. But that’s not your life anymore. You have people.”
After a few tense seconds, Viola nodded a couple of times, her posture still rigid. “Yeah. Yeah.”
Hannah stepped back, letting her breathe. “I have to ship back out in the morning. I can head to the barracks if you want - no hard feelings.”
Viola finally looked at her again. “Are you even allowed to stay?”
Her mother shrugged with a light smirk. “They didn’t tell me I wasn’t.”
“Well,” Viola said, trying to smile a little in return. “House arrest is pretty fucking lonely. A little company might not kill me.”
“Ha!” Hannah barked. “‘Might not kill you’? Is that a bit of a joke I hear?”
“Mm. Trying to lighten up a little. But I do want you to stay. I…”
She didn’t finish her sentence, but Hannah knew what she was leaving unsaid. She tucked a lock of hair behind her daughter’s ear. “Yeah. Me too, kid.”