Chapter Text
Liara T’Soni looked down at her desk, hot mug of tea steaming next to the framed document:
University of Serrice
Planet Thessia
hereby confers upon
Liara T'Soni
the degree
Doctor of Philosophy
Archeology
with all the rights, privileges, and honours thereto appertaining.
She smiled. Finally, she thought. Years of hard work, dry – and wet – digs, loneliness, injuries, and late nights had finally come to fruition. Doctor Liara T’Soni, I like that. She just wished Shepard were here so they could finally, oh, what did she say? ‘Play doctor for real, Doctor’? She opened her Omni-tool and quickly snapped a picture, forwarding it to her parents, before writing an email to Jane, with a personal message alongside the photo:
TO: J. SHEPARD
FROM: L. T’SONI
SUBJECT: The Doctor is In
But, she would like you in her…
Come home quick.
I will be waiting with my lab coat on… and nothing else.
Xoxo
- Dr. L
She smiled again and sipped her tea, running her hand along the smooth glass that covered her doctorate. Her Omni-tool pinged and she saw a reply from her father:
That’s my girl; your mother is crying her eyes out in the kitchen, babe. But it’s tears of joy this time. We’ve always been proud of you, Little Wing. When you bringing your lover-girl for another visit? We don’t have to bring trees inside for every human holiday, right?
Love you, doll – Dad
Liara covered her certificate with the soft cloth it had come wrapped in and heard her Omni-tool ping again. Expecting a reply from Shepard she frowned when she saw it was her email, bounced back. She sent it again and drained her tea; she was surprised she hadn’t heard from Jane since she had picked up Aria on Omega. The two of them had spent the night partying at Afterlife, and Liara had been woken by several messages during the night, each making less and less sense:
You up?
Barely. It is late here.
Aria is doing shots again; I keep telling her we have an early flight.
A picture of a shot glass balanced precariously between asari breasts.
As long as it is my blue cleavage you come back to, have fun Jane.
Is actualy not to bad…
Omega smells.
Liara!
Helllloooo?
U wkae?
Im shrunk
Funk
Drunk
I inferred that… I love you.
I love you, shtryak wdahs ip? pHd yes? Hedalof of achohall
Go to bed, Shepard.
Liara could understand less than timely communications from her girlfriend, but Aria and Shepard had been due on Sur’Kesh last night; truthfully Liara had expected a late-night vid rendezvous. She had sat in bed, candles burning, Omni-tool and libido at the ready, until she had fallen asleep sitting up. When she had awoken, with a crick in her neck and lingerie stuck up her butt, she had found her doctorate in the mailbox; it had been after eleven and it was the first weekday morning she could remember sleeping through since she had started her studies.
Now, as she put her empty mug in the sink, she debated calling Shepard instead of waiting. She punched Jane’s contact and waited for the ring that never came. Instead a jarring static and the three-toned sound of an uncompleted call blared up at her. Strange.
Before she could try again, or dial Aria’s number, there was a buzz at the door and she activated the vid screen; two men in uniform stood on the threshold. She answered the door with a “Yes?”
“We’re with the Systems Alliance, Ma’am, and we’re looking to speak to a Ms. Liara T’Soni.”
Very strange.
“Come in,” she unlocked the door and waited in the hallway, greeting the men and leading them into the living room. “Would you like tea? I just made some-“
“No, Ma’am, thank you. Are you Ms. Liara T’Soni-”
“Doctor-
“Forgive me, Doctor T’Soni, Ma’am, I am Operations Chief Bennett, and this is Service Chief Fawkes, Systems Alliance Marine Corps.”
“What is this about? If you’re looking for Jane she’s-“
“Can we sit down, Ma’am?”
“I do not need to sit down,” panic was starting to swell in Liara’s chest: uncertainty, a feeling the doctor was not used to experiencing.
“We found you on direction from a Ms. Aria T’Loak, as she was unable to reach you; she is currently in a Salarian hospital with major burns-“
“No, no, you must mean Tevos, uh, Thea Tevos, her bondmate, she’s in the hospital, they’re expecting their first daughter any day now-“ Liara massaged her forehead with her hand,
“Ma’am,” Bennett touched her shoulder lightly, but it felt ice cold to Liara, “Ms. Jane Shepard had you listed as her next of kin, and we regret to inform you that she perished during a civilian ship collision outside of Sur’Kesh airspace…” Liara heard ‘next of kin’ and felt the world swoon, clutched onto the arm of the couch to balance herself.
“No. No, no, you must be mistaken. Shepard is-she is-she said she’d come back…” The asari blue went ashen grey, like a dimming light, and she barely registered the officer’s words.
“…died bravely, saving hundreds of civilian lives…activated the distress beacon and Ms. T’Loak assures us the only reason she survived-“
“No.”
“Liara, did you hear me?”
Then the world went away; a terrible anguished scream split the air and it took her a moment to realize it had come from her.
Liara grasped at her shirt, wringing it in her hands, and harsh breaths - ragged in her ears - shook her shoulders.
“We recovered this from her corpse-“ she spun on Fawkes;
“Do not. Do not call her a-corp- do not…”
This has to be a dream…
The tears started to fall, fat and thick, hitting her cheeks, sticking in eyelashes, spilling onto her shirt and the floor, and she pounded on his chest, fists turning into open-hand slaps punctuated by sobs, “Do not. Do not. She is not dead. She can’t be. She promised…” The last word came out in a squeak; her vision swam and she fainted dead away.
She came to on the couch, with Bennett and Fawkes fanning her and making her sip water. Bennett spoke, handing her a tarnished necklace Liara recognized with a sinking feeling,
“This was in Ms. Shepard’s possession, Ma’am.” She sat up and closed her hand around the amber rock hanging off a delicate silver chain: a gift from Shepard during their first Christmas together.
“Thank you, Operations Chief. I apologize for my behaviour…” Fawkes cleared his throat, running his hand through his buzzed hair; so much like Jane’s habit of running her hand along her neck, so much like Liara’s habit of running her hands through those red locks.
“Doctor, we would like to release her bod-her into your custody, unless you would like us to arrange a cremation?”
“No. No cremation – I will be able to claim it within a few days I expect?” They nodded, solemnly.
“Do you have someone to stay with you, Ma’am? A family member or friend we could contact?” Oh Goddess, my father… my mother… what-how? How am I going to tell them…?
“Uh, Miranda Lawson, but I assure you I will be fine,” she spoke with a calm voice that didn’t match her boiling insides; turmoil and grey disbelief. “Please, I would like to be alone.” They nodded,
“Here is our contact information, Ma’am – Liara. Ms. Shepard was a fine recruit and we would have welcomed her back with recommendation…”
“Thank you,” she said, absently, her voice was polite but dismissive. They let themselves out and Liara collapsed in the hall, shaking with sobs. Her dry heaving only stopped when the toast and tea she had eaten for breakfast made an appearance on the reflective floor.
She cleaned up her mess amongst fresh tears and stumbled to the bedroom, curling up on the top of the blankets, clutching Jane’s pillow to her chest, soaking it in tears. It smelt of her; of cedar and fruity perfume and the smoke from the cigarettes she hadn’t been able to fully give up. Liara couldn’t begin to fathom the no-mores, but they swam around her, dancing along her subconscious - no more laughter in the kitchen and in those green eyes; no more fingers dancing across piano keys and her body; no warm body curled next to hers in this bed and on top of her in passion; no more Jane, no more Shepard, no more kisses or coffee or bad jokes or human idioms or strong hands and her name in that breathy voice, the one when she was so close to pleasure; or future plans, or children…
‘We’re going to have so many blue babies,’ that glint in her eye, like a child, like a jester, like Liara was the only thing in the world she wanted to see.
She trembled, only breathless whimpers escaping her throat, and felt the hot-bile feeling of sorrow. You promised me, she screamed internally, you promised, Shepard… you were the brave one… you… She howled and threw Jane’s pillow across the room, knowing she should call her parents, Aria, Tevos, Miranda, anyone… ‘A thousand years, Liara, until the day you die’ she heard in her head.
You lied to me, Jane…
Liara didn’t move for a full day. Until hunger and the need to use the bathroom urged her out of their-her-bedroom. She ate a protein bar and went to the restroom and returned to the cocoon she had crafted for herself. She felt like she had cried every drop of moisture out of her system, but her email had bounced back at her again and her body surprised her with a fresh batch of tears. She stayed like that for two days, drifting between crying and sleeping. Every time she woke the loss hit her anew; a minute of blissful ignorance before the memory crashed into her again, her heart searing, her stomach knotting.
Thankfully, she didn’t dream of Shepard.
“Liara?” She opened bleary, bloodshot-purple eyes and glanced at the doorway. Miranda Lawson stood in the dim light, or are my eyes stuck together? She thought, not knowing what time it was, what day it was… “Oh, Liara, I came as soon as I could- the conference...” Miranda dropped her overnight bags on the floor and climbed into bed with the asari, clutching her close; Liara felt tears drip on her crest. “Oh, Li… I’m so sorry.”
Miranda coaxed Liara into the kitchen and made her a sandwich, made her drink water and tea, and wrapped a blanket around her as she sat on a stool. Liara’s crest was dull white; flaking, and she hadn’t brushed her teeth in days. She couldn’t remember the last time she washed. Her eyes were murky; more like the storm-grey of an ocean than the bright blue unique to her, and the bags under them were bright purple against her pale blue skin. Her lips felt chapped and sore.
“Maybe they are wrong, Miri, maybe… she was just in Omega, with Aria; they had dinner and drinks, and dancers…” she held her head in her hands, breaking down again. Miranda came to her and held her up, rubbing her back. “Oh Goddess, I have to go claim her-her body…”
“I’ll do it…” Miranda kissed her on the temple and pulled the blanket back onto her shoulders from where it had slipped. “Liara, you’re coming to our place; it’s not healthy for you to be alone.”
“Okay.”
Miranda was true to her word and had Liara packed and at her apartment within the hour. She left Liara in her wife’s company, shooting Jack a dangerous look of warning, and went about the business of death. She returned a few hours later to an empty kitchen. She called into the darkened apartment and saw a note from Jack on the counter:
Princess,
Had to go into work; it was an emergency.
An emergency, Jack? Really? She thought. What, college students can’t find their own booze? Jesus…
T’Soni assured me she was getting in the bath and heading to bed.
Love ya, sugar lips
Miranda followed a faint mumbling noise to the bathroom door and knocked before opening it a crack; Liara was in the tub but her Omni-tool was open on the toilet lid, with a holo of Shepard playing on it: singing at a piano. Liara was weeping again. Obviously an old vid, Jane was singing Christmas carols, with that crooked grin on her face, eyes bright even in the weird orange holo colour. “Liara…” Miranda gently shut it off and sat on the seat.
Liara met her gaze, “Jack made me a drink so I would relax… and it was the same hot drink Shepard made me at your party and-“ she choked back a sob, “and… how am I going to go on without her, Miri? I cannot even fathom Christmas without her… how am I going to live my whole life without her?” Miranda sat next to the tub and held Liara’s hand.
She honestly didn’t know how to answer her. “We’ll figure it out, Liara…”
Liara retired to the spare room as the streetlights outside were coming on. She coiled into herself, admittedly feeling better for being clean, but the hollow, gut-punch feeling never leaving. She had promised Miranda she would not listen to any more of Shepard’s songs.
But she had lied.
She turned the volume down on her Omni-tool and opened a recording of Jane playing at the University coffee house; a song she had written for Liara. Burying herself in the bed like a little girl, sheets over her head, blocking out the world, in here it could be just Shepard and herself. In here she could close her eyes and pretend.
‘…And all our moments, good and bad, forever in my head
Wish we could go back just once and laugh at things we said…’
She closed her eyes and imagined Shepard was sitting with her guitar in her lap - in the living room where they had fallen in love, faced a looming pregnancy, fought, made up and made love – playing only for her.
‘It's been wonderful and crazy knowing you
And I hope that I can always see the teenage girl in you
And I know that you'll be fine, but I'll be there every time
You need someone to say hi to late at night.’
No you won’t, Shepard. I thought you would be… forever.
She replayed their last conversation in her head.
I love you… Oh Jane, I loved you so much… Oh Goddess, at least I told you even if I did not tell you enough.
I always will, Shepard…
She fell asleep with Shepard’s voice – the only version of it she had left – in her ears.
Liara awoke in a strange bed, with a pillow that didn’t smell like her Shepard, Omni-tool still playing softly next to her head. It was just after midnight, and a strange idea had forced her awake. She padded down the hall on bare feet and listened at the bedroom door for awake-noises. She pushed it open softly and stood over black hair sticking out of blankets, gently nudging Miranda awake. “Liara? Honey, are you okay?” Jack grumbled in her sleep and threw a tattooed arm over eyes.
“Fix her.”