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With the right stance, she threw her weight and her strength into rolling the small car from the few trees that remained on the property. She watched as it continued to roll down the hill, landing into the pile of other trashed cars that had been used as a makeshift blockade during the attacks on Earth. Parts had already been stripped from them, and some where scorched and clawed from the attacks on both sides.
Claws from the husks.
Scorches from the fire fight and someone’s idea of setting the barricade on fire.
Abby wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, pausing when she noticed some green poking out from the ground. She crouched down, wincing with the pain in her legs with the simple movement.
The woman tossed the little pieces of debris from the sprout before chuckling to herself. Wasn’t this sort of like those really cheesy vids? In the midst of destruction, there will be new life?
She shook her head as she pushed herself back up, feeling light-headed without the long braid of brunette hair. To think it had been so long before all of this started, taken when she had been found in the rubble, scorched and barely alive. Maybe it had cushioned the fall, saved her life, some more cheesiness. Maybe she should write a book about her adventures, add just enough fantasy into it, a few twists, that no one would tell that it was her story.
The crunch of footsteps on dirt made her hand go to her hip, only to find nothing there but a bottle of water. They had taken her gun after forcefully putting her into an early retirement with nothing to show but the nice pension plan for the next eighty years.
A true hero, huh? Or maybe she was just being too cynical. The others had tried telling her that she deserved this break.
She turned with her fists in the ready. Even without her guns, it didn’t stop her from using the skills they had given her. That’s what she was in the end, a decorated soldier, reduced to volunteering under a fake name just to help. A…
“Samara…” Her fists quickly unclenched, relief flooding her when she saw the Asari Justicar standing there in… robes. The last time she had seen the older woman was back at the sanctuary, with her daughters, with that gun trained on her own head.
No, that was a lie, they had a moment together at the Citadel, where they had said their final good-byes as if they had only ever been companions. She had accepted it then, that they weren’t going to see one another after all of this. The odds of both of them surviving, it… it was…
She forced herself to look away, blinking hard as she felt the tears start to well up in her hazel eyes. She was willing to die to save the others. It had felt like she had died again, only to be brought back, and for what? The others had all gone, busy with repairs or their own assignments. There were messages, but only asking about her health. Maybe she had done this to herself.
“I was given a lead that a retired Spectre was in these parts.” That calm and smooth voice wrapped around her, stirring emotions she had thought gone. Good grief, just what was she thinking.
“By lead you mean a certain Shadow Broker who doesn’t know when to stay out of things.”
“I believe that the young one still has feelings for you, and was worried. I was actually… relieved myself, when I saw her message that you were alive. I do not check my messages often, nor read them, but this one…”
The brunette leaned back on her heels, crossing her arms over her chest. She didn’t want to hear these sort of things. She didn’t want to let herself think that the Justicar actually…
“I am… glad, that you are alive, Abigail. Seeing you at the Sanctuary and at the Citadel, I wanted to thank you for all that you have done for me.”
She squeezed her eyes shut when she heard the steps come closer. That faint fragrance the Justicar sometimes wore, probably of a flower she had never heard of, filling her senses as a breeze swept by.
“I believed that it was out of place, to say more at that moment. I did not want to distract you. You had a great deal of responsibility, as did I. Yet you had-“
Abby turned away, only to have her wrist grabbed before she could flee. She didn’t have to deal with this sort of thing anymore. She wasn’t a soldier any longer. She didn’t have to save face in these sort of situations in case she did something or say something that could result in someone dying, or leaving.
“Samara, let me go.”
“I am not bound by you, Abigail, you can not tell me what I must do.”
“At least tell me why you’re here and not dealing with your damned Code.” She didn’t care that her voice was filled with poison. If she didn’t let herself get reattached, she wouldn’t have to deal with the pain of her leaving again.
“I wanted to see you.”
“Well here I am, perfectly fine. Now if you’ll let me go, I have some things to take care of.”
The grip on her wrist tightened in the slightest. “If I let you go, will you not run from me?” That tone. How could she…
She grated her teeth together, debating whether to lie and run, or to actually be an adult and deal with this. If anything, maybe this was the cheesy universe giving her some kind of sign.
Abby nodded slowly, taking a deep breath when her wrist was released, pushing back that urge to run and instead, turned around to face her.
Those intense pale eyes stared into her with her usual demeanor, but… there was a slight smile, or at least, she felt like she was smiling.
She hadn’t realized that she had been staring, until she felt the Justicar’s palm on her cheek.
She hadn’t realized she had leaned into her palm until she felt her thumb move.
“You look tired, Abigail.”
The brunette closed her eyes, feeling her shoulders droop slightly, the tension melting away with just this touch, with these words. “It’s… hard to sleep, alone. I got used to knowing all the others were around.” She chuckled weakly. There was no way to lie to her, not with her this close. “I don’t know how you do it.”
“One never really gets used to it.”
Was this some sort of confession? Or just something said to make her feel better?
“I tried that meditating thing. Makes me fall asleep sitting up than laying bed.”
Samara was the one to chuckle this time. She wished she would laugh more, it was… such a nice sound.
A strange sound, but a nice sound.
It felt like an eternity had inched by, but she knew only a few seconds at most had passed. She lifted a hand to press it against Samara’s, looking at her, meeting her eyes.
“Why are you here?” she asked quietly.
“I wanted to thank you, for what you have given me.” She felt her other hand rest on her hip, and that little voice in her head tried to warn her to run before she got hurt again.
“You’ve already thanked me, Samara.”
Her hand twitched against her cheek, and Abby broke the stare, closing her eyes once again. She couldn’t do this.
The gap between them became smaller, and she breathed in sharply, holding her breath. “I have thanked you for what you have done for my daughters, but I have not thanked you for what you have given me.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Back when we talked on the Normandy, you said some things that I was not able to forget.” Abby tried looking away, but the hand on her cheek didn’t waver. “You were right, but I do believe that the moment had been wrong.”
“We don’t have to do this again.”
“But I want to.” The cool touch of her forehead against hers made her stomach twist. “I wanted to thank you, Abigail, for giving me a new life. I learned on the battle field that I was unable to forget you, no matter how much I tried. It bothered me, because the Code requires control, and when I think of you, that control slips. I fear what you do to me, but I fear more of what I would do without you. You have shown me that there is enough room for both.”
Abby slid her hand that was on Samara’s to her wrist. This was it, wasn’t it? She had to make a choice, didn’t she? Except, it was different this time. The choice she had to make now, it wouldn’t end in life or death. If anything, the worse thing would be that they would just simply live the rest of their lives apart, as if they had never met.
“Do you really want some human on her last leg of adventure to tag along with you?”
“I believe we could find a way to make it work. Isn’t that what you pride yourself in doing?”
She laughed softly, curling her fingers around her wrist. “I’ve got enough credits for a small ship. Won’t be much, but it’d be a home.”
Samara tilted her head slightly, and Abby could see her thinking about it. “Having a home would mean that potential enemies could find us.” The smile on the former Spectre’s lips faded, yet Samara leaned closer, hand on her hip pulling her in the slightest. “But that does not mean I am against it.”
“You really think me piloting a ship would be smart? You saw how I drove with Liara after that Asari Spectre.” Abby’s hands moved to Samara’s waist as the hand on her cheek moved to the short hair at her neck.
“It is something I am willing to risk.” She could feel her lips hovering near hers, and scolded herself for the way her arms and legs began to quiver.
How was it that she could stand in front of a Reaper, completely determined and strong, yet weakened at something as simple as finally holding the Justicar.
“I liked the long hair, but this suits you as well. I have always wondered how it would feel between my fingers.”
The brush of her lips as she spoke, like sparks on her chapped lips.
“I’ll… I’ll grow it out aga-.”
Her words were cut off as the gap finally closed, the kiss she had always dreamt about, happening right now, right here. She tightened her hands around her, pulling her closer as she returned the kiss happily. It was better than any dream, better than any reward that could have been given to her.
All that was missing now was the swell of music before the credits started rolling. Or, at least, that’s how she would picture it if her best seller was ever adapted to a vid.