idk my dudes

Also laughing about the idea of herbs and Leon and Claire just being BAKED AS FUCK running around the RPD station like 🫪🫪🫪🫪. Is Mr. X even real or are they just higher than hell and paranoid?

Leon: IT HAS A FEDORA, CLAIRE. A *FEDORA*

And after Shepard and Grunt leave, there’s a phone call that goes:

“Kahlee, how do you feel about grandkids”

fShenko drabble, with spoilers for the extended cut dlc for mass effect 3.

this is entirely @capriswritingnartshenanigans fault

- - -

She was unsure what hour it was when the first cries reached her ears and pulled her from a light sleep, but by the darkness beyond the window, Catriona guessed the wee hours. Momentary, tired confusion shattered as she moved to gather the squawking infant in her arms from his side car, writhing against the soft blankets that had swaddled him so snugly.

“Hush now, my darling, you don’t need to cry.”

The baby’s wailing fell silent as he began to nurse with practiced ease, a fat hand curling against her skin as he calmed, and even in tiredness, Catriona took the chance to marvel at him, to admire him as she always did; the sweet, milky scent of newborn, the dark ebony hair, long sweeping lashes and neat ears that she now knew so well.

But then, she seemed to have known it all even before his arrival. Even before the newly restored EDI had given a run down of her scan findings, her thumb tracing the image of the tiny being who’s heartbeat filled the room; made in love and representing such enormous hope and reward.

Strong cardiac activity, a healthy foetus growing well. XY chromosomes. A significant number of biological markers identical to one Major K. Alenko. 4.2 inches long, 90 grams in weight. Approximately 15 weeks and 1 day.

The skyline of city lights laid beyond the glass before her in the still of night; what was the point of a penthouse apartment if you didn’t have a large enough window to admire the view, Kaidan had joked as they had built their home. Vancouver was rebuilding quickly, the skies already full of shuttle traffic and an endless buzz of activity. It was comforting, the reminder of life outside of her nest slowly regaining traction after the horror it had met. Not that she could claim to have engaged in it recently - her time had been otherwise rather occupied.

Now four days old, and he was still just the baby. She would insist it was a difficult last name that held up their choice, much to her husband’s disgruntled pout. The months of pregnancy had seemed to last forever, endless time to decide but now, the clock ticked; his grandmother was travelling that morning to meet him, he would need to be registered with the city and damned if she was sent another message asking for a name to put upon his gift. Even Kaidan had gently chivvied her into putting some serious thought towards a decision.

Her Kaidan. Patient, unfailing, gentle Kaidan who had held her hand so often and not once uttered a word of complaint, even as she had cursed him to hell and back with each contraction of her labour. Quiet, protective, loving Kaidan who had whispered affirmations in answer to her every anxious thought, who had made vows to love her eternally so easily as the cool metal of her wedding ring had met her finger, who had wept so fiercely as she had handed the baby to him for the first time. He snored gently into the pillow beside her, head turned from her, and in the light from the window, she could make out the same neat ears and soft, dark hair she had been admiring on her son. Their son.

The baby in question had quietly finished nursing, contented by a full belly and his mother’s arms, and endless dark brown eyes met hers in a gaze that seemed to still time. She had always been told infants were born with blue eyes, but here he was, with the same deep brown eyes that had first won her heart so many years before. In the haze of memory from labour she could see him lifted onto her chest, seconds new and with the sweetest of cries, and his eyes had found hers instantly, her very soul snapping into life with sudden realisation that she had no idea she had been missing. Oh. There you are. How could I ever not have known you?

The babe blinked, before his tiny features screwed into a yawn and as she adjusted her nightgown, Catriona brought him to her to kiss, thumbing the downy skin of his cheeks. The responsibility still overwhelmed her. Hell, give her an invasion of ancient sentient machines any day, but this was on an entirely different level. A gun, she could handle with every inch of familiarity and confidence. But a baby? A baby was something different entirely. Something fragile, something delicate. Life, in its simplest form. She was far more used to death, and the destruction and pain of it, of the grief of loss.

Her heart hurt when she wandered into the memories of that loss, of those that would miss this, that would be unable to share their elated joy. In all of it, one figure stood out, a gaping hole in her world and a pain that never seemed to settle. She could see him at the edge of her mind’s eye, could still hear his confident belief in her at every turn, the gentle smile that said ‘you can do this’. Their final conversation pulled itself often to the front of her thoughts more recently, and in every quiet moment of doubt, there he was. Oh how she wished he was still there to be the voice of sanity she had relied upon so often.

What about you? Ever think about settling down?

Yeah… I like the sound of that. Not sure I’d be much good at it though.

Sure you would.

I’m a soldier, Anderson, like you. Not really fit for doing anything else.

Movement next to her broke her spell, and as strong arms found her waist, Catriona realised she was crying, hot tears tracking down her cheeks. She leant her back into the muscle and warmth of her now awake husband, his face burying into the crook of her neck and his gruff, sleep filled voice reverberated against her skin, laced with concern.

“What’s the matter, love?”

He could read her so easily; had she been crying enough to waken him? Catriona wiped quickly at the dampness on her cheeks with her free hand, clearing her throat as best she could. “I was just… thinking about his name. Or lack of it, I guess.”

The tension in his shoulders seemed to drop with her admission as a tender hand reached down to trace the baby’s features. “We’ll find something, don’t worry. Boy can’t live without a name forever.”

“No, I…I think I know what it should be.”

“Oh.” Kaidan’s face lifted, his hand tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear, before resting his chin on her shoulder. “Well, hit me.”

Catriona drew a breath, steadying herself, before glancing to him. “James for the middle… for your dad, like we discussed.”

His reply with a gentle chuckle, warmth in his eyes. “You’ll make my mother cry with that one.”

They felt silent again, Kaidan’s waiting gaze upon her once more, but Catriona found she couldn’t say it, couldn’t bring herself to give it voice. That meant he was really gone; meant finality. Her mouth was like cotton, thick and heavy, barely able to force the name from her lips and as she finally whispered it, her voice cracked. 

I don’t know Shepard. I think you’d make a great mother.

“David. I want to call him David.”

She felt the breath in him hitch instantly, the meaning of her suggestion sweeping over him first as a grimace of pain, before his brows knitted together in silent, sad contemplation and she turned enough to look at him almost desperately, eyes filling and throat catching once more. “He was like a father to me, I guess… he cared… for me, for you… he believed… he would’ve been so proud… he would’ve loved…” She could speak no more, composure shattering and descended quickly into heaving sobs, fat tears slipping down her cheeks as she clutched the babe to her. He would have loved to have been here to see this, to be a part of this.

Kaidan turned her in his arms so easily and she wept against him, face pressed against the tickle of chest hair as a hand traced circles on her back. Heaving sobs left her, chest burning with each breath - how it hurt, raw grief she thought had lost it’s sting. Her husband was silent other than soft murmurs of comfort for what seemed to be forever, and when he finally spoke the tremble in his own voice was answer enough.

“Yeah, that’s…that’s a good choice…” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, the baby settled in her arms. “David James Alenko. Now there’s a name.”