An Ounce Of Hope : Part 3 [Gift]

           The crew was going to be angry. Nothing new there. Alexander opted for radio silence though, just to be safe. He didn’t want to hear anyone yelling at him, crying, saying he was going to die in vain.

           He didn’t want to hear Miranda expressing that she cared; that he made her see beyond what she thought she was into who she could be: herself. He didn’t want to hear Thane, asking him to please reconsider, that he was being thoughtless, that he still wanted him around until the end of his short-lived days. He didn’t want to hear that brittle-boned Joker giving him realistic consequences, or EDI’s statics. He didn’t want Mordin telling him he was a fool and that he was going to die.

           He didn’t want to be reminded that he wasn’t dead. That he should still be dead. That it was inadvertently his fault that Liara was killed.

           Fuck, if only he’d been more careful. Collector’s were ruthless; they weren’t like humans, they weren’t like other aliens species. They didn’t care; life or death, they stood their ground, they didn’t back down. Shepard was a fool dragging not just one but two of the love of his lives into the battlefield, out of range of communication and in a situation he couldn’t escape. Backed into a corner with nothing. No resources, no omigel, little ammunition.

           Then he’d taken a tumble.

           Then he’d plummeted down into the black depths of a ravine when they’d been cornered.

           Liara…

           Oh, goddess, not Liara. Not Liara.

           “Shepard?” Tali’s sotto voice spoke up, compelling the human Spectre from the darkness that swam in the back of his mind.

           “Hm, what? Sorry Tali, did you say something?”

           A sigh of understanding escaped Quarian. She turned around, but there was no way to distinguish her face behind the mask. It was almost as hard to see her silhouette draped in dusky colors amongst the shadows that they stood in.

           “No,” Tali gently spoke. “I noticed you seemed to be zoning out. Do you want to talk about…?”

           “No thank you, Tali,” Alexander groggily responded.

           Much to his surprise, Tali didn’t push him further and looked instead towards the darkness where Garrus had disappeared to what seemed like an eternity ago. Shepard had been counting in his head. Seventeen minutes and forty-three seconds felt like an eternity in regards to the status of his crew members.

           The dull ache that had been residing in Shepard’s head had turned into a pickaxe. With every pulse of his heart, he could feel it growing sharper, more agonizing. The adrenaline shot he’d taken had yet to wear off yet but the lengthy march on this damn planet where they knew so little was wearing him down. The hills, the mountainous rocky slopes, the never-ending plateau’s and dark caverns. His heart was pounding from the activity, and he knew the more he moved the more pain there’d be as his Epinephrine wore thin.

           Tali was quiet. Alex wondered if she was listening in on the Normandy crew. No doubt they knew about his great escape with Garrus and Tali. He wondered why a party hadn’t been established to drag him back.

           Or maybe Garrus and Tali had went radio silent as well, choosing to isolate themselves from communications and keeping out of range so they wouldn’t be detected and picked up.

           Shepard stared hard at the back of Tali’s helmet. He couldn’t choose which it was, but he hoped for the later.

           Shapes moved within the black of the crypt. Alexander stiffened; briefly feeling the first twinge of pain in his broken leg in a while. He mentally brushed it off; it could wait.

           The outline grew more apparent, and Tali visibly relaxed and dropped her weapon as the Archangel sauntered over with a nod of his helmet.

           “Anything?” Tail asked.

           “We’re in luck,” Garrus responded in a husky voice. “I spotted a group of Collectors standing just outside of an open area. Hard to see what’s out there, but the ground’s not dirt; it’s definitely a structure on the other side.”

           “Do you think Kaidan’s in there?” croaked Alex, his throat dry.

           Garrus’s helmet turned towards him. Even with his darkened visor shield down, Shepard could feel; practically see the look of worry that was sure to be in his bluish-gray eyes, staring down into his own heterochromia.

            “It’s possible,” Vakarian stated with an edge.

           Alexander nodded. He swallowed the hint of hope that seemed to line those words. He would keep it inside him as long as he lived; he’d have hope.

           They stood and followed behind Garrus, who insisted on being lead. Under normal circumstances, Shepard would argue, but he was dancing on a wire even being out with Tali and Garrus. The last thing he wanted was to waste time and energy arguing and fighting, risking Kaidan’s safety any longer than he already was and burning out what he had left in his sweaty, overheated, shaky body as his adrenaline perished.

           Assault rifles were at the ready as they shuffled through darkness. Shepard could only rely on the proximity of Tali at his side to guide him, and the sound of feet moving. With each breath he took, even with the built-in ventilation of his suit, he could swear he smelt death in the air. It penetrated his lungs, left a pungent taste on his tongue; thick and dehydrated.

           Anxiously, he tightened his grip on the handle of his rifle. The texture of the grips beneath his gloves steadied him some.

           Garrus’s Revenant rifle suddenly went off; the brief flashes of light and sudden crack of a gun bringing roaring adrenaline back into Alex’s veins.

           Something screeched in pain. Shepard pivoted around Tali; listening to the grating of her feet on dirt. A hum of energy pulsed around him and suddenly, illumination brought the darkness into the light as Alexander’s biotics flickered around him in a mist of blue.

           The Vindicator assault rifle in his hands went off like thunder. He barely captured a glimpse of Garrus, who had been standing in the way and was just mere inches from having a bullet straight into his head.

           Something hit Shepard like a train. Sweat beaded up on his forehead and he gasped, fluctuating his biotics to slow himself from colliding with a wall.

           Energy pulsated around Alexander’s fist and he grinned. His green and golden eyes seemed to glow from behind his helmet as he clenched his fist tighter and slammed it to the ground with a triumphant grin.

           Two nearby Collector’s let out a screech as they evaporated into a strange cosmic dust.

           Plasma fire pelted Shepard’s armor in sudden waves. The disorientating lights made him nauseous, and his shield generator flickered down instantly in the red.

           The world felt like it slowed and tilted. It felt like the universe itself was draining itself from his finger tips; biotics flashing and dissipating as he fell to one knee.

           Agony, raw and pounding in a vicious cycle of torment. It felt like his head was splitting into two; tears springing up in his eyes and the sudden awareness of his damaged leg a fire, hot-cold flaring up and searing its way through his bones and nerves like dry ice.

           “Commander Shepard!”

           “Shepard!”

           Distress. Someone was counting on him, calling for him. His teammates. Yes, they needed him. They needed him right now. Not hours from hour, not at their funeral as they were buried, or jettisoned into space, or left behind.

           His head lolled on his shoulders, looking up. Garrus stood in front of him; exchanging fire, covering him even as plasma ricocheted off his armor.

           “Shepard, you have to stand up and fight!” Tali persuaded kneeling down beside him, “We wouldn’t have let you come if we really, truly believed that you couldn’t pull your weight. You are our leader; you’re the best out of all of us, the one with the most potential. You can’t lay down on us now and call it quits.”

           “Yeah Shepard,” Garrus wheezed painfully, a touch of humor in his tone as he added, “Pull a miracle out of your ass, it’s what you’re good at.”

           Everything swam in Alexander’s vision as he staggered to his good leg. He closed his eyes, pressing a hand against Tali to ward her off as she reached out to aid him.

           In the back of his mind he could see her. Blue eyes, lush lips, delightful smile. A crinkle between her brows, laughter. A hand pressed to her mouth.

           Blue. Blue like his biotics.

           A charge of light hummed around his armor and form. Expanded and shifted; it seemed to follow the erratic pulse of Alexander’s heart.

           He pushed past Vakarian in a blur, missing the look of shock and dismay on his comrade’s face as he stumbled out of the way.

           Shepard smashed full-throttle in a biotic charge into a group of Collector’s. Their cries of anguish and surprise were like beautiful music in his ears.

           Fucking hell, it felt like his skull was splitting right down the middle.

           Shouting in pain and rage, the first human Spectra charged another Collector. The plasma shots bounced away from him, discharged away by the sheer power from his biotic shielding.

           His fist connected with the Collector’s jaw, and the results were explosive.

           Brain matter went splattering against the wall and the body fell, crumpled in a heap on the ground.

           Tears clouded Shepard’s vision. He couldn’t see.

           A horse cry escaped him, and he faltered, staggering into the wall and slipping on the gore from the Collector. His broken left leg felt like a splintered pile of bone and anguish.

           But he was still going full throttle.

           Someone screamed for him, but the plea was virtually unheard.

           Alexander rushed forward; unfeeling to his emotion, ignoring the stress on his body. It was all a haze to him; he didn’t count how many Collector’s he charged headlong into, how many shots he took to his damaged armor. He felt nothing but rage and trauma so sharp and real and tangled in every fiber in his being that it felt like he was nothing but a patched up doll, and all his stitches were unraveling and coming undone.

           Sweat was pouring down Shepard’s face as he teetered in place, collapsing against the ground with a huff. His face bounced against his helmet; slamming his nose into the dome structure. Blood trickled out of his nose and he couldn’t catch his breath. The ground seemed to be shaking beneath him, until he realized that it was actually just himself shuddering so violently.

           Distantly, he could still hear gunfire being exchanged. It seemed far, far away now.

           Not as far away as Tali’s voice however, which was like a sonic clap in his ears.

           “Alexander? Alexander, are you alright?”

           He barely managed a muffled groan, tasting the metallic flavor of blood on his dry tongue now.

           “Oh,” she gasped quietly, but with relief to hear a noise escape him. “We should never have allowed you to come, we shouldn’t have pushed you- or let you push yourself… Shepard… Shepard, can you hear me?”

           Through the mind-numbing pain pulsing in his head, Alexander managed a tiny, single nod of his head.

           “Okay,” Tali breathed, “I’m calling for an immediate evac-“

           “Tali,” Shepard rasped, hating the stench of blood and death in his nostrils, inhaling it in his mouth when he gasped for air. “Don’t.”

           “Shepard, I don’t want you to-“

           “I won’t die, Tali,” Alexander wheezed dryly. “I can’t. Not until I find him.”

           Clearly shaken and disturbed, Tali gave a nod, unseen by Shepard with his face in the dirt. Her hands, gingerly, reached around beneath his arms to help pull him against her chest, steadying him a moment.

           “Do you think you can stand?”

           Alexander doubted it briefly, but nodded. He could walk on a broken leg all day, all week, for months; even if it healed improperly, he would deal with it until he found Kaidan again.

           “Alright then,” Tali whispered. “Let’s find Kaidan, and bring him home.”

           “Okay,” Alexander crooned, his throat thick as tears trickled down his cheeks from the corner of his eyes.

           “He’ll be safe Shepard, I promise.”

           “Okay.”

           May the goddess greet you home warmly-

           Alexander was thankful for his helmet. He was grateful Tali couldn’t see the tears streaming down his face. The look of agony, of terror, of pain and fear. The reds of his eyes, the puffiness in his face, his swollen bruised nose and blood-stained mouth and hair stuck to his face with sweat and tears.

           May the goddess greet you home warmly-

           “All clear,” Garrus’s voice crackled over private comm. “And Tali, you’re not going to believe this…”

           Tali slipped an arm under Shepard’s, and pulled. Alexander had to give her a lot of credit, she didn’t seem to have any trouble lifting him up at all; allowing him to place most of his weight into his side as he soon staggered and realized how wobbly he was.

           “What’s that, Garrus?”

           “I found him,” Garrus stated in a quiet, quavering voice. “I found Kaidan Alenko.”