Day 2: Femshep/Ashley; “What about us?”
Sometimes, soldiers just can’t rest. This is one of those nights for Ashley. She rolls off the couch of her own little space on the SR-2 and makes it to the door before she remembers to go back and grab her personal data pad.
She never thought she would be here, even after her life drastically changed on the first Normandy. But no, here she was in some comfortable clothes, walking to the mess hall of the second Normandy at two-something GST.
Also, second human Spectre.
Worlds are burning and she’s going to get tea.
Still, she sets her data pad on the table and rummages around for a flavor. Not only are there more options than green and black now, but she’s not even sure she can consume some of these. She picks up one in a purple bag that she can’t determine the language on.
“Sh-shit,” slurs a tired voice behind her. “Morning, Williams.”
She turns just as Shepard comes up to the counter beside her, hand rubbing her eyes. “Isn’t it a little…early to say that?”
Shepard blinks wide eyes at Ashley that cross for a second. A lock of red hair falls over her eyebrow as she shakes her head to steady herself. “I got lectured a lot about the fact it’s morning whether or not I sleep and I can’t change that, so I stopped saying ‘evening’ after a couple times.”
Humming, Ashley goes back to browsing the teas. “I didn’t know the mighty Commander Shepard got lectured.”
“Miri can and will lecture anyone.”
The smile in her voice matches as Ashley glances at her and the coffee she’s starting. She watches Shepard tap her fingers on the counter. Smile? Still in place. “Excuse me?”
Damn, that’s as far from what she meant to say as she could’ve gotten. She brings a bag of tea stupidly close to her to act like she said something reasonable.
But Shepard’s just looking confused, hand sweeping her hair out her face. Adorable.
And then Ashley realizes what’s weird. Her gaze moves over Shepard once, twice, three times, gets stuck on her thigh and the design peeking out from her boxers. “You,” she swallows, “have a tattoo.”
“Tattoos,” Shepard corrects. She pulls the fabric up a little bit to show the rest of the geometric design.
Unthinking, Ashley reaches out and traces a finger on the outskirts of it. “How long?”
“Pfft, when didn’t I?” Shepard turns back to the counter and opens a cabinet for creamer and sugar.
For some reason, Ashley fixates on the T-shirt Shepard’s wearing. She almost asks how many more. “When’d you start being casual at night?”
Has she really never seen Shepard outside of armor or uniform?
Shepard flips open the top and starts pouring in the sugar and creamer at the same time with a tilt to her head. “After Horizon.”
Any possible apology dies as Ashley’s eyebrows shoot toward her hairline and she grabs the coffee pot. “What are you doing?”
“Being deprived of coffee for some damn reason. Hand it over, Williams.”
“No!” She holds it farther away and slaps at Shepard’s hand. “Straight from the pot? Still steaming? What’s wrong with you?”
“Oh, what’s a fucking cup when you’re just a dead woman?”
The pot slams onto the counter, some liquid sloshing out and making a mess. “You’re not dead!”
“You’re right, Williams! I’m just a Cerberus robot. Why would I possibly drink coffee?”
“If you want me off this ship, just say so. I’ll get off at the next dock.”
Anger falls off Shepard’s face and it twists into confusion. She even scratches at some of that cybernetic scarring on her cheek.
But Ashley is deflecting and she knows it. Shepard looks so soft and depressed and comforting and vulnerable all at once and Ashley doesn’t have any experience with that. Her gaze moves past Shepard. Maybe she needs sleep, maybe she’s tired, maybe she just needs Shepard. Regardless, honesty pours out her mouth. “We’re not the same.”
“No,” Shepard agrees and it’s a knife in her heart. “We never will be.” Her hand goes to her hair. “Good night.”
She grabs Shepard’s bicep to keep her there, but green eyes never acknowledge her. “You can’t just expect to die.“
“What else is there?” It’s a whisper of a ghost and they know it.
“What about us?” Ashley’s hands are fisting in her shirt, demanding her attention, dragging her from the abyss she’s slipping into. “When is it enough?”
“Never, Ash! Never. Even if we make it, they’ll still shit on me for not doing or being enough. Don’t you know that?”
She does. She knows it too well from all the times she got pissed off over people brushing off Shepard’s feats before she died.
“Thessia is gone and it’s because I wasn’t enough.”
“Five minutes would have made a difference! Five fucking minutes! Earth is burning. Palaven is burning. The batarians are all but-”
Ashley’s hands are on Shepard’s face. She swallows. “Jennifer, you can’t think like that.”
Tears spill out of green eyes and some are catching on the scarring just like the breath in Ashley’s chest.
Shepard’s voice is so broken, so painful, so hopeless, like she didn’t face off a reaper from the ground. “I need you and you don’t even think I’m me. How do I even know I’m me?” Her hand slaps to her mouth to muffle a sob but the tears are like rain racing down her face. “What if I’m still dead and this-”
Ashley kisses her. Ashley kisses her and she tastes like agony and salt, but it’s Shepard. The same Shepard. Her Shepard.
It ends with a sob and Shepard’s head is falling to her shoulder while she grabs Ashley’s shirt and pulls. Even when they’re pressed together, she’s still fisting the material like it can stop her from slipping away.
And, strange as it is, Ashley wishes that Cerberus bitch is here because she’s seen “Miri” calm Shepard. She has experience putting Shepard together and Ashley doesn’t. So Ashley just tightens her arms around the Savior of the Galaxy and tries to keep her from falling apart.
“I love you,” Shepard whines.
A bullet might as well have caught her side. There was nothing endearing about accusing someone of being false and questioning their every step.
Shepard’s been in love with her.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers into Shepard’s hair.
A new wave of sobs shake Shepard and Ashley could kick herself. “No, no! Not like I don’t-well, I don’t know. Look, I don’t know when what started but I wanted to punch that bitch in the face when she touched you on Horizon.”
Tearstained, Shepard’s face emerges from her shoulder with a grin that makes Ashley narrow her eyes. “Jealous, Williams? Because she’s seen and touched a lot.”
“I’m going to drown you in this fucking coffee.”
