Tori stands and extends her hand in greeting. “Dr. Solus, it’s nice to meet you.”
He shakes her hand. “Heard good things. Reyat speaks highly of you.”
Smiling, she follows him into the clinic’s back room. “He was a good student. Jaëto Immunology is lucky to have him.”
Dr. Solus blinks. “Thought he studied obstetrics under you.”
“He did. We’ve both changed focus.”
“Yes. Trauma.” He gestures for her to sit. “Need trauma specialist.”
“That’s why I’m here.”
He narrows his eyes and Tori resists the urge to squirm. She gets the feeling that he knows exactly why she’s here and knows it has nothing to do with needing a job. He’s read her resume, knows she had a perfectly good and fulfilling job running Gagarin’s second trauma team. Blissfully, he doesn’t say anything about that.
“Credentials hold up,” he says, reviewing a datapad presumably displaying said resume. “Certifications in place and current. Xeno trauma experience?”
“All known species.” It’s on her resume, but he’s quizzing her, making sure she didn’t make that bit up.
“Volus and elcor? Vorcha? Quarian? Batarian?”
“All known species,” she interjects before he can list them all. She has less experience with vorcha and batarians, but enough. More than most human doctors. Gagarin’s one of only a few hospitals outside the Citadel or homeworld systems equipped to treat more than the Council species.
He makes a pleased sound in the back of his throat. “Excellent! When can you start?”
Her getting the job was never in question, but still Tori feels a wave of relief. “Today.” She really has nothing else to do. Her apartment came furnished and she didn’t bring much more than a weekend bag. Everything else she’s bought new and is either already here or on its way. Part of getting a new life – getting new stuff. She’s trying boots this time. Fewer dresses.
“Good. Will have you run graveyard team. Go home. Sleep. Omega at night is,” he inhales, “busy.”
An alarm triggers and Dr. Solus’ eyes flick to the screen showing the incoming details. He reads the brief and then looks back to her. “Unless you would like to start now?” He turns the screen toward her.
Tori whistles low. Three-body shootout in the Kima district, which doesn’t have its own clinic. One quarian down, two vorcha. As she’s reading, two more bodies appear on the list – a turian and a krogan. She’ll learn about dispatch protocol later and who actually brings patients to the clinic, but for right now, “I’ll take the krogan. Might need a stool, though.”
Dr. Solus grins and leads her to the back trauma bays. “Welcome aboard, Ryder.”
this one’s for the torn down, the experts at the fall
come on friends, get up now, you’re not alone at all; or, one night in the intersection of Archangel and Victoria Ryder
PG, Garrus+Tori friendship, subtle Garrus/Olivia; warnings for not-remotely-researched medical stuff, and references to a past abusive relationship
"You still don't have a medic?" Victoria says as Monteague leads her into the supply closet Archangel and his crew have generously called their medbay.
Garrus looks over at her from the gurney, gingerly holding his arm very still against his chest. He's still in the bottom half of his armor, but the top half sits haphazardly - the left shoulder absolutely shattered - on the floor against the wall. "No."
She sighs and gives Monteague a subtle shove as she brushes past. Payback for interrupting the end of her date. "That's really dumb considering your line of work," she says, running her omnitool's medical scanner over his shoulder.
"I've noticed," he says, pain laced through his tight subharmonics.
Victoria closes the scanner and starts to wash her hands. "The bullet's still in there, and it's in pieces, but it missed anything important. It's gonna hurt, but you'll live. Might even have a nifty scar. Monteague, help him with his shirt and then get out."
Monteague crosses his arms. "Why?"
"Because I can't see what I'm doing if there's bloody fabric in the way." She dries her hands. It was a very good date.
Though he starts to help Garrus remove his shirt, and shortly changes his plan to one involving a pair of scissors, Monteague still eyes her. "Why am I leaving?"
"Because you're the approximate build of a brick wall, this room is half the size of an elevator shaft, and you broke into my apartment."
At that, Garrus stiffens and drags his gaze over to Monteague. "You two broke in?" he says with a tone of disappointment Victoria thinks could rival the one her father used.
"And interrupted a pretty good date," she adds. That's the more important bit.
"Loitering in the hallway would've looked suspicious," Monteague defends, tugging off the last piece of fabric and tossing it into the biohazard matter recycler.
Victoria sighs, exasperated, as she looks through the supply cabinet she set up for them after the fourth time Garrus called her over. "You guys have my contact code," she says, pulling out the tools and meds she'll need.
Garrus closes his eyes, takes a breath, and opens them again. "Fix whatever you broke, give her security system an upgrade, and the next time I tell you to get Ryder, call her and ask."
For a moment, Monteague looks like he's going to argue further - it was Sensat's idea, Sensat's back there fixing it already, Ryder wasn't answering, all arguments true but falling flat against breaking in - and he wisely chooses not to. "Got it, boss. You need me for anything else?" he directs the question at Victoria.
"Check on Penny, please. Tell her I'm going to be a while."
He nods, and then leaves.
"I'm sorry about that," Garrus says as soon as the door shuts completely.
Victoria shrugs and settles her omnispecs on her face, cycling through programs until she lands on the bioscanner with a magnifier. With a tap, it syncs to the gesture control on her omnitool, and she waves the HUD away. "I added a couple black market protocols the other week, Sensat probably enjoyed the challenge." She washes her hands again before snapping on a pair of gloves.
Garrus laughs quietly, grimacing a little around the edges of it. "Thanks for coming."
"Well, you're making my walk to the clinic safer, so. Hold still." Victoria slides a needle in under his shoulder plate to numb the area. It's a weird intersection she resides in these days - Mordin, Aria, Archangel. Galatana and its shiny clean floors, its steady bright lights, its total lack of gunfire and knife fights, all seems a lifetime ago. So does that house in Indiana, and the bouquet of daisies long rotted into the dirt. Her thirteen year-old self, sleepless from studying for entrance exams, daydreaming of Presidium hospitals and pristine white lab coats, wouldn't even recognize her. Sometimes that bothers her. Tonight it doesn't. She tosses the needle into the biohazard unit and then rests against the sink, giving the anesthetic a few moments to kick in. "Should I ask whose gun you got on the wrong end of?"
"Minor red sand dealer," Garrus says. "He's dead now, and I know who his dealer is."
"One step at a time, right?" she says, and pokes his shoulder.
He makes an irritated noise and glares at her finger.
"Did you feel that?"
He blinks. "No."
"Good. Try not to move too much." Another wave, and the HUD returns. It takes a moment to register Garrus as turian, and then all the stats in the bottom corner roll out of red and into green, and the holographic display settles over him, highlighting veins and muscle and bone, and bullet fragments. She zooms in and starts to work.
They sit in silence for a while as Victoria digs tiny pieces of a nasty hollowpoint bullet from his shoulder. She'll have to tell Mordin and Aria there's a new arms dealer in town. Each piece lands in the metal bowl with a clink.
"So, what's their name?" she asks.
"Hm?" Garrus makes a confused sound.
"The ghost you're avoiding by setting up this little medic-less operation."
His head swivels around to stare at her. "You a therapist and a surgeon?"
"No," she says idly, "just able to recognize my own brand of damage." She recognized it that night in Afterlife, even through the pounding music and flashing lights. For his sake, she's glad he seems to have put aside the rampant alcoholism he was teetering toward that night. For her sake, she's glad he remembered she was a doctor and chose her to call at 3:45 in the morning when Vorash caught a knife to the gut five months ago. Garrus pays well.
Garrus narrows his eyes. "I thought your brand of damage was the bad day," he gestures with his uninjured arm at her eye, thankfully long healed.
"I have multiple brands of damage," she says with a wry smile and gently nudges him to turn back around so she can work. "So what's their name?" she repeats.
He sighs and his rigid posture slouches a little, but not in relaxation. Defeat, maybe. "Shepard." It sounds rusty in his mouth, rough, sticking to his throat with disuse.
Victoria isn't a therapist, but she sure as hell knows pain when she hears it. And Garrus may have a hollowpoint bullet shattered in his shoulder, but she could be cleaning it out with no anesthetic and it wouldn't hurt nearly a fraction as much as Shepard does. She softens her voice. "And Shepard was...?"
"My CO. For a little while. She was," he pauses, "she was good. Really good."
A million different words he could've used, and Victoria's been around enough turians to hear what lies in the spaces in between. CO, mentor, friend. Something else, something different, something more. She doesn't call him on it, or push him to continue; they're edging a little closer toward friendship with each call, close enough she finally felt comfortable enough to ask, but they’re still dancing in that murky area between acquaintance and friend. "I'm sorry," she says.
A sad, broken noise comes from the back of his throat, and he catches it, tamps down on the broken bits, almost as soon as it happens. "She saved everyone's ass, and then they hung her out to dry. They - " he stops suddenly. His hand brushes against the armor storage compartment at his thigh. He pops it open, checks that something is still inside, and closes it again. "She died. And didn't have to. The Alliance wrote it off as another geth attack."
The way he says geth tells Victoria exactly how highly he thinks of that particular cover story.
Her first year on Omega is a little slippery, events out of order or misremembered or not at all, but Victoria remembers the blow that cracked her skull, remembers Bray calling panicked on her omnitool, remembers hearing something from a newsstand about an Alliance ship's distress call one system over as she slid into one of Aria's skycars. Remembers a text from Mordin to be at the ready if the Alliance didn't come through the relay in the next three hours, remembers swiping it away before scrubbing in to save a krogan who'd half bled out on the floor already.
"I'm sorry," she says again.
He nods, and she feels him pull himself back from the edge. No way in hell was Shepard just a CO.
"What's the name of your ghost?"
She drops one last fragment into the bowl. "Mom."
Silence for half a moment. "I'm sorry."
Victoria shrugs. "Omega's a great place to run away to," she muses, dodging any follow-up questions. "Tell me about her," she says after a moment.
"Who?"
"Shepard." At his stiffened shoulders, she continues. "I spent most of 2183 either in a cloud of depression so thick I couldn't see three feet in front of me, or getting the shit kicked out of me by some asshole I accidentally let into my life. I missed the attack on the Citadel and everything. Catch me up."
He shifts slightly, just enough to look over his shoulder without jostling her work. "Is this a tactic to help me ignore that your anesthetic is terrible and already wearing off?"
"Yep." She opens a suture kit.
He huffs, the smallest hint at laughter, but he starts talking. As she stitches him up, Garrus tells her about the Normandy. About Saren. About the short redhead woman who seemed to bend the universe by sheer force of will. About learning to drive a human-designed vehicle while she tried to set her own broken foot in the back, about making an idle comment about her height and getting absolutely smoked in headshots. "She was our field medic," he says, somewhere in between trying to remember the back half of a joke and telling her about the altercation with Saleon.
Victoria's long finished - he's bandaged up and she's cleaned up, even started the autoclave - and she crosses her arms. "Were you this bad at getting out of the way of bullets back then, too?" she smirks.
Sliding off the gurney, he tightens his mandibles, making a friendly irritated face at her.
Her smirk shifts into a smile, and she points at the bandage. "Leave that alone for 24 hours." She hands him a bottle of antibiotics. "One of these a day until you're done." A bottle of painkillers. "One every six hours for two days, then once a day as needed. I'll be back tomorrow to change the bandage, unless you have a medic by then,” the smile changes back into a smirk.
Garrus rolls his eyes, but takes both bottles from her. "Thank you."
Victoria nods. "You're welcome.” She pauses, and then decides maybe they’re closer to friendship than she’d been giving them credit for. “You're paying me pretty well, so I'm gonna throw this one in for free. It sounds like you and Shepard were really good friends. And I don't think she'd be too happy to see you in your shared afterlife of choice so soon. So even though I’m one bullet away from being able to get six months of super extended cable, try to duck a little more often, okay?"
Garrus laughs, a genuine honest laugh, and nods. "I'll try."
or, the one where Victoria finally tells Liam and Jaal about the ex-boyfriend on Omega, many hugs are hugged, and many feelings felt. Guest starring Sahuna, because adopted angaran mom is the Most important. 1800ish words, PG.
Warnings for discussion of/reference to past abusive relationship. Also, this was originally meant to be a prompt response, but I opted not to use it for that since it got super out of hand because, as is well established, I have zero chill.
Wind blows gently through the trees as Victoria finishes her story. She brushes her thumb at the corner of her eye, wiping away tears before they have a chance to fall, though she’s sure her watery eyes haven’t escaped Sahuna’s notice. It’s a sad story, and even though it ends well for her, she’s still not happy at the end. All she feels, all she’s ever felt, is staggering relief. “Someone found him dead in an airlock about four months later.”
Companionable silence falls around them. Silence usually makes Victoria uncomfortable, especially after sharing that particular life experience, but Sahuna has a way of making it warm, safe, even soft. She could live inside this silence, just sitting forever in a place that feels like family. Like home. Like she belongs.
Odd that her parents had to die, her brother had to be in a coma, and she had to leave the galaxy to find a place like that. Even odder that she found it among aliens. She pushes the thought away - an analysis for another time.
“You haven’t told them,” Sahuna says softly after a moment of contemplation.
The setting sun turns the Havarl sky into pinks and oranges and brilliant purples. Little pinpricks of starlight flicker at the edges of the oncoming night.
Victoria blinks at Sahuna. Their tea is long finished and smells of dinner have begun wafting outside through an open window. She looks out at the mountains beyond and the valley below, and swallows. No, she hasn’t. “I don’t know how,” she admits. She shifts against the large plush pillows beneath her, bringing her knees to her chest, loosely hugging her legs.
Sahuna reaches out over the space between them and clasps Victoria’s hands with hers. “You told me,” she says simply.
Victoria looks back at her. “Not easily.” She pauses, and then offers Sahuna a little smile. “Plus, you asked.”
Smiling in return, Sahuna lightly squeezes her hands and then lets go. “I’m nosy and have no shame. You know this.”
She laughs and lets her knees fall back to the pillow, tucking her feet underneath her. “It doesn’t seem relevant,” she says, playing with her necklace. Her fingers trail over the scar on her collarbone, the scar Sahuna had asked about. “It’s over, I’m okay enough. And I know Liam and Jaal would never do anything like that. So I - ” she exhales a short, frustrated sigh. “There’s nothing about it they need to know.” Now that she’s said it aloud, it sounds like the lousy excuse it is. She stares at her hands.
“Perhaps not,” Sahuna says. “But it is part of you, my dear. And they love you. Quite a lot, if the way they look at you is any indication.” She waits until Victoria looks up again. “I know my son. This will not diminish what he feels for you. I doubt it will diminish Liam’s feelings either.”
Victoria swallows. Though she’s never truly doubted their feelings for her, there’s a little part of her that always whispers you’re too damaged to be with anyone. Sahuna’s right, of course. But Sahuna’s only the third person Victoria’s ever told - the rest who know found out on their own somehow - and this is the first time she hasn’t dissolved into tears. Jaal and Liam have seen her cry, but her tears have been for things outside of her, not something unfortunately a part of her. It’s different, and she doesn’t like it. She pushes a stray strand of hair out of her face and sighs.
“I won’t tell them,” Sahuna promises. “I understand if you wish this to remain between us. But,” she smiles at Victoria in a way that makes her think of someone else, someone long buried in Indiana with a handful of daisies, “I think they would like to know.”
Victoria looks away and glances inside through the window. She’s too far away to hear them, but Jaal’s teaching one of his younger cousins how to build a fire in the open-air pit near the center of the compound. Liam subtly sneaks a piece of vegetable from the tray beside them, only to be caught by Jaal - though his only punishment is a smile and a kiss to his forehead. Liam turns and blows a kiss to her; she waves at him and smiles.
“Yeah,” she says, looking back at Sahuna. Six hundred years later and a galaxy away, it’s past time to stop running from a ghost who never deserved her at all.
***
The sun’s long set, and dinner long eaten and cleaned up, and the littlest ones long put to bed. Victoria sits down on the upper balcony, letting her feet dangle in the empty air. The mountains brighten and pulse with the glowing plants - a band of blue here, a patch of purple there, a swirl of pink in between.
Liam sits down on her right, Jaal on her left. She leans forward against the low railing and rests her chin on her hands. She knows she’s been strange ever since coming inside for dinner - quiet, distant, holding herself just a little too stiffly. No one else in Jaal’s family knows her well enough yet to notice it, but Jaal and Liam do. They sit quietly beside her, waiting. They’ve all learned over the past months that not one of them responds well to pushing.
“My ex-boyfriend used to hit me,” she says softly. No pretense, no preamble. No setting up the story like she did with Sahuna, explaining that it all began with her mother’s death and running to Omega and being so consumed by her grief she didn’t realize what was happening until it was too late. Just the bare fact of it. “A lot.”
She feels them share a look over the top of her head. She can almost picture the look - worried, perhaps even horrified, Liam’s mouth falls open just a little while Jaal’s eyes shimmer, both torn between hugging her and killing someone six hundred years and a galaxy away dead.
Night bugs hum and chirp and sing in the silence, a chorus of insects trying to attract each other’s attention.
“Tori?” Liam settles his hand on her lower back, and Jaal puts his hand on her knee.
She sits up straight, draws her legs up, and turns so she’s facing them both. “I’m okay,” she says. “I just, I wanted - actually, Sahuna wanted me to tell you,” she tries to lighten the mood. Because the way they’re looking at her, like she’s the most precious thing in both their worlds and they’re trying to figure out how to protect her from absolutely everything all at once, is just a little too intense.
She loves them with all her heart and then some, but sometimes it scares her how much they love her.
“Darling one,” Jaal whispers, his voice thick with tears. He reaches out and cups her cheek.
“I’m okay,” she repeats, and lets Jaal draw her close.
He kisses her temple and guides her head to his shoulder. His hands gently stroke her hair, smoothing out the little hairs that have escaped from their loose crown braid, before settling on hers. She turns her palms over and softly grasps his hands.
She pulls away, kisses his scarred cheek, and turns. Jaal’s arms circle around her waist and he tugs her into his lap.
“Is that how…?” Liam trails off and brushes his fingertips - feather-light, as if she’s still hurt - down her left temple.
“Yeah,” she says. One break of many. She can point to them all, though she’d rather not.
Liam tucks a small piece of hair behind her ear. “Can we do anything?”
Victoria smiles - he’s always trying to fix things, even things that were broken years ago and don’t need to be fixed anymore. She’s just a little chipped, and always will be. It took her a while to come to terms with that, but she’s okay with it now.
“No,” she says. Maybe she’ll tell them the whole story one day, from the beginning, from sitting down in Afterlife to the bodyguards to Aria telling her they found him dead on the wrong side of a decompressed airlock. But she probably won’t, not unless they ask; she’s done thinking about it, done remembering. She reaches out and cups his cheek, brushing her fingertips through his hairline. “But thank you.”
He clasps her hand, and then turns and kisses her palm. She strokes her thumb over his cheekbone.
Jaal hugs her tighter, strengthening his arms around her. Victoria leans back into him and twines the fingers of one hand with his, letting her other fall from Liam’s cheek down to his hands. He catches hers and brushes a kiss to her knuckles before letting their joined hands drop to his lap.
Bats - or Havarl’s equivalent, she’s not heard a name for them yet - flap through the nearby trees, and Victoria looks up at the starry night sky, streaked with purple and pink aurora. Bioluminescent leaves blow gently above them in the wind. What a strange planet, and yet it feels more like home than Earth ever did. Maybe it’s the company.
“I love you guys,” she says quietly. This isn’t the first time she’s told them, but it somehow seems more important than it did before, more solid. Permanent. Real. They’re all a little chipped and broken.
Jaal presses a kiss to the top of her head and then smooths out her hair. “I love you,” he whispers in return.
Liam leans forward and bumps his forehead against hers. “Love you,” he murmurs.
She sighs contently and lets them just hold her for a while. Shadows pass over them as a family of great beasts flies above. “I’m okay,” she says again, when they show no sign of ever letting go. “I wanted to tell you, that’s all.”
And that’s the truth of it. Though Sahuna encouraged her to tell them, Victoria would be lying to herself if she said she didn’t want them to know. And as much as Victoria wishes she weren’t - Sahuna was right, and what happened is a part of her. The men holding her are her world and they deserve to know everything, even the broken bits.
Victoria nuzzles Liam’s shoulder and shifts out of Jaal’s lap. She scoots forward to the edge of the balcony and dangles her legs over the ledge again, though this time she braces her hands behind her and leans back, looking up at the sparkling starry night sky. Liam and Jaal settle in beside her, sliding their arms around her waist. She smiles and lifts her pinkies, curling them around her partners’ fingers.
Though she’ll always be a little chipped because of it, what happened in the Milky Way is past, over. She’s found the two men here with her on the balcony, and she’s safe with them, forever, and that’s what matters.
Victoria giggles - an actual, honest-to-god giggle- and her foot catches on the last step, sending her stumbling into Liam.
Liam smiles and puts his arm around hershoulders, part out of affection, part to help her stand up, and part - if he'sbeing honest - to keep anyone still standing in Kralla's Song from getting anysmart ideas about taking out the Pathfinder while she's toasted. "You'redrunk," he says, stating the very obvious.
"Little bit," she says, holding upher thumb and forefinger for him to see just how much. "Got in a fight,too." She turns her hand around, showing off her scraped and bruisedknuckles.
He looks over her head and catches Drack'seye. Victoria could take on the whole bar if she was really determined, but shetends not to go out of her way to pick fights. Drack, on the other hand - Liamrolls his eyes. The krogan simply shrugs at him and goes back to his ryncol.Liam adjusts his arm as Victoria sways a bit; he'll get the story out of Dracklater. "Let's get you back to the ship."
Victoria hiccups. "Okay." She leansher head against him and follows his lead out of the bar.
Liam tightens his arm around her and leansover to kiss the top of her head. They step out into Kadara's setting sunlight,dark oranges and pinks met with neon greens and blues as the market's signsbrighten in the dusk. He's sure there are people watching her every move here,just as they are everywhere, but it's almost like they can be normal here.Boyfriend and girlfriend, just walking back from the bar.
Kadara's a shithole, but at least it doesn'twhisper as they walk past, doesn't come right up to her and demand her help.
Victoria stops, right there in the middle ofthe market, and looks up at the sky. She then looks over at him, smiling wide.
And in that moment, she's not the Pathfinder.She's not Ryder. She isn't carrying the stress of her last name or theresponsibility of her title, she's just Victoria - a girl he likes a lot.
She lifts up on her toes and he meets her fora kiss. He slides his arm down around her waist, helping her stay steady evenas she breaks away and settles back down on her heels.
After a moment, sure that she's not going totopple over, he continues walking them back toward the Tempest. Jaal'swaiting for them in the airlock.
"Hi!" she chirps, slipping out fromunder Liam's arm to hug Jaal. She trips over her own feet and falls into him.
Jaal catches her and presses a kiss to herforehead. "Did you have fun?" He raises his brow - an expressionadopted from Victoria - at Liam over her head.
Liam makes a drinking motion with hisfingers, and Jaal nods in understanding.
"Drack and I beat up the whole bar,"she says, just as proudly - if not more so - than when she told Liam.
"Ah," Jaal says, gently guiding herout of the airlock and down the glass walkway. "Congratulations."
Liam stifles a laugh and follows them.
Victoria's in the middle of reenacting aparticularly-energetic headbutt when she stops in the middle of the walkway.She turns and looks up at both of them, a soft, starry smile on her face."I love you guys," she says quietly. She pauses a moment, and thenkisses Liam's cheek, then Jaal's, and takes their hands.
The soft smile disappears, replaced by asmirk and a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. She winks, and takes the lead backto their quarters.
@riana-one (at least I assume that’s you on tumblr?) on AO3 prompted: Victoria with a squishy baby angara on her hip. Both Jaal and Liam want kids and domestic fluff is so cute.
So here we go!
A loud, bone-shaking clap of thunder startles Liam awake. He blinks in the darkness of Jaal’s bedroom and looks out the window. Lightning flashes as the storm pours down outside. The roof overhang protects them from most of the rain, but the wind is strong enough that little droplets blow in.
He takes a breath of the cool air. Strange. It almost smells like Earth. Almost - there’s a hint of Havarl’s flowers on the air.
Liam shifts, stretching his legs out, and digs a little further under the blankets. Jaal nuzzles his neck and tightens his arm tightens his waist. Sleep still drifts around the edges of Liam’s vision and he smiles, covering Jaal’s hand with his. When he reaches out with his other hand, he finds nothing but air.
He rubs his eyes, trying to turn the crumpled blankets beside him into their girlfriend. No matter how hard he tries, Victoria is not lying in bed with them.
Jaal takes a long, slow breath, and pushes himself up just enough to look over Liam’s shoulder. “That it is an excellent question.”
Liam sits up and blinks away the last bits of sleep. He scrubs his hand over his face.
Jaal reaches out to turn on the lamp, but nothing happens. “Hm,” he says, “the power’s out.”
As if on cue, bright lightning flashes, almost instantly followed by a deafening crash of thunder.
“Nice planet you’ve got,” Liam grimaces as little echoing booms roll through the mountains.
Jaal smiles and sits up beside him. If he noticed Liam’s sarcasm, he ignores it. “It is beautiful, isn’t it?”
Leaning over, Liam kisses Jaal’s unscarred cheek. “It is.” Aside from the wicked thunderstorms, at least. He looks down at the empty space next to him. “Should we go find her?” Victoria is terrible with maps and navigation, but not so terrible that she’d get lost inside a house, even one so big as Jaal’s family home.
“Probably.” Jaal slides out of bed and offers his hand to Liam.
Liam lets Jaal tug him out of bed. It’s a little cooler without the blankets and the warmth of Jaal’s body, but finding his shirt in a dark room is more work than he wants right now. The pants he’s wearing are enough. Jaal seems to decide the same, and they slip out of his bedroom.
Finding Victoria isn’t hard, even without any lights. She’s in the kitchen, beside the window.
Liam stops just inside the kitchen and holds his hand out against Jaal’s stomach, keeping him from walking forward. Smiling, he tilts his head at Victoria.
She turns, bouncing the small angaran girl a little higher on her hip. Thunder rumbles, shaking the glasses Jaal’s cousins left out on the counter, and the girl squeaks and buries her head in Victoria’s shoulder. Victoria presses a kiss to her forehead and gently sways back and forth.
Liam looks at Jaal and smiles at the way Jaal’s watching her - soft, starry-eyed, it’s an expression that warms the very air around them. He’s sure there’s a similar look on his own face. Something inside of him melts at the sight of Victoria holding a child.
Victoria turns, and a smile grows across her face as she sees the two of them. She walks over to them and whispers something to the girl, who lifts her head despite the thunder.
“Hi Flora,” Jaal says, gently settling his palm on Flora’s back.
She smiles wide, revealing a missing tooth. “Hi Jaal!”
“I got up for a glass of water,” Victoria explains. “Flora found me, wanted a hug.”
Liam doesn’t blame her. He doesn’t love thunderstorms, and this is the strongest, brightest, loudest one he’s ever experienced. Victoria’s hugs have magic properties, he swears.
“It’s loud,” Flora says, resting her head on Victoria’s shoulder again.
Rain pounds on the roof, and Liam leans in to press a kiss to the top of Victoria’s head. There are other, more pressing, concerns at the forefront now to have the future discussion, let alone the kids discussion. But that doesn’t mean he hasn’t thought about it.
“Oh, there you are,” a relieved-looking Finn rushes into the kitchen.
Victoria grins at him. “Found something of yours.” She shifts Flora to her father’s arms.
“Thank you,” he says, taking his daughter.
Flora yawns. “Tori gives good hugs.”
She boops the girl’s nose. “You can have one whenever you want. Sweet dreams.”
Flora sleepily waves at them as Finn carries her back to her bed.
Victoria looks at Liam, and then at Jaal. She tilts her head. “You guys are looking at me funny.”
The storm rages outside as they stand in silence for a moment, staring at her.
“Seriously. What is it?” She pats her head, as if it’s her hair that’s causing them to look at her like she’s the sun.
Jaal cups her cheek and tilts her head up. “You are marvelous,” he whispers, brushing his thumb across her cheekbone before gently kissing her.
Victoria lifts up a little on her bare toes, leaning into the kiss. “Thank you,” she whispers against his lips. She settles her heels back on the floor and pulls away from him to look at Liam.
He smiles at her, his thoughts still half-caught in their potential future.
She crinkles her nose at them both. “You guys are weird,” she says lovingly, taking their hands in hers. “Let’s go back to bed.”
40) things you said when you met my parents - for Tori x Jaal
note: the bit after the jump contains pretty major spoilers for “Ryder Family Secrets”
Victoria is short. Sahuna's known this - Jaalhas sent her photos documenting his journey aboard the Tempest, and thephotos have long heavily featured both Victoria and Liam - but to see it inperson is different. She'd almost call the woman tiny. But Victoria hugsfiercely, intently, without reservation, and Sahuna decides that tiny isthe last word she'd use to describe her son's girlfriend.
She holds on just a little longer than Sahunaexpects, and so Sahuna squeezes just a little bit tighter. She's heard aboutVictoria's family from Jaal - with only two parents, both dead, and her solesibling in a coma, it all sounds so lonely. Victoria takes a shaky breath andSahuna decides right there that whatever happens between her son and thiswoman, Victoria is always welcome in her home.
Victoria pulls away and smiles up at her.Bright green eyes and brilliant orange hair, both unheard of amongst angara,she certainly doesn't look lonely or sad. "It's nice to meetyou," she says. "Jaal's told me a lot about you."
The smile's audible in her voice, and Sahunawonders if that's unique to Victoria, or common to all humans. It’s something she'llhappily have to learn. She returns the smile and gently clasps Victoria'sshoulder. "He's told me much about you," she says. For all thatJaal's written, she feels like she knows Victoria as well as her own childalready, though she's looking forward to learning more. She wants to knoweverything about anyone who can make her son smile like that, who can make sheer joy radiate through his words.
She tilts her head and then looks at Jaal."Weren't there meant to be two of them?"
Jaal nods. "Liam had to meet someone atPelaav. It took longer than anticipated, and he suggested we go withouthim. He'll be here later." He looks down at Victoria, whose cheeks flush alittle pink as she shrugs her shoulders.
"I do a lot of things well,"Victoria tells him. "Nothing is not one of them."
He simply smiles down at her and presses akiss to her forehead. Victoria's eyes close and she lifts slightly up on hertoes, leaning closer to him.
Sahuna's smile grows as she watches the briefexchange. Though she had no doubts to the contrary, she likes Victoria - quitea bit. She'd be happy - proud, even - to welcome her to the family.
***
Ellen picks at the clinically-white sheetsbelow her. The last week has been an utter whirlwind of information, and she'snot entirely sure which piece has been the biggest to wrap her head around:that she's not dead, that her husband is, or that she's in another galaxy.
It's a testament to just how in shock she'sbeen by it all that my daughter is in a committed relationship with two men,one of whom is an alien I've never heard of hardly fazed her at all. Thelast she remembers, Victoria's longest relationships were with textbooks. She's clearly missed quite a bit. Victoria's promised to catch her up on everything, but themore important thing is getting her up to speed on the present.
Harry's cautioned her away from too muchexcitement at once, reminding her that for all the years that have passed whileshe was asleep, she's still only a week recovered from very nearly dead.So she's meeting Tori's boyfriends one at a time. She met Liam yesterday - anice man, kind, an optimist, devoted to making the Initiative work, and clearlyin love with Victoria. Tori was always an upbeat, positive person, but Ellenswears there's a light inside of her daughter that wasn't there before, a lightbecause of Liam, and because of Jaal.
She spies the seven-foot tall angara a splitsecond before she sees Victoria's bright orange hair. She waves them over. Torishowed her pictures, and has told her much about them - and that's an oddity aswell, Ellen's always regretted that they weren't closer and she suspectsthere's a deeper story to Victoria's sudden closeness beyond I died and shemissed me - but not enough to prepare her for the sheer size ofJaal. Both he and Liam are a good head taller than Victoria, but Jaal's broadshoulders and muscular frame seem to dwarf her. He keeps a gentle hand on herlower back as they make their way to her bed.
Ellen doesn't know a thing about angaranfacial expressions or body language, but the way Jaal's looking at her -curious, and definitely a little nervous - brings a smile toher face. She looks over at her daughter.
"Mom, Jaal. Jaal, my mom, Ellen."She gestures to each of them as she makes introductions.
Jaal smiles, and takes a half-step forwardand then hesitates.
Ellen nods at him, and then suddenly Jaal'shugging her. "Oh!" she exclaims quietly, a little surprised, and thenbrings her arms up around him as best she can. His hug is careful, mindful ofthe fact that she's healing, but still strong and fierce. She looks at Victoriaover Jaal's shoulder.
"He does this," she grins.
"It's an honor to meet you, true motherof Victoria," he says, giving her a little light squeeze before pullingback.
Ellen sits up a little straighter against thepillows, and smiles. "You make my kid happy," she says, "thehonor's mine."
There’s a little wobble, an uncertainty, aninstability. It itches at him at night, and the hours he spends alone in thetech lab. Something’s wrong, and he can’t name what; he thinks it’s onlynerves, a new environment, being around aliens.
But then Ryder squeezes Cora’s shoulder asthey stand in the wreckage of a ship, a transponder blinking sadly in Cora’shands, and he realizes what it is.
Jaal hasn’t been touched since he cameon board.
II.
His mother asks, among other things, if theyare kind.
They are. The crew of the Tempest iskind and supportive, they are funny and happy, they are ridiculous and loving.He’s not certain he’s ever felt loved by a team before. Liked and respected,yes, but loved? No.
Jaal tells her this. He tells her of the crew– of Peebee’s enthusiasm and Vetra’s resourcefulness, of Drack’s tenacity andCora’s calm – but especially he tells her of Ryder and Liam, and the pull hefeels toward them. He tells her of the look in Ryder’s eyes just before sherealizes he’s turned and can see her now, a look of genuine care thatmakes his heart flutter. And he tells her of the way Liam always gives him alittle light smack on the back of his shoulder before a fight, and how hesmiles with a stuttery sigh of relief when they meet at the Nomad afterward.
It feels like such a small thing incomparison, and Jaal doesn’t want to dampen her opinion of his friends. Butdespite the friendship, and despite the love, and though he is happy – hestill feels off balance. I have not been hugged – nor given a hug – since wewere last on Aya, he writes. Sadness tugs at him as he reads the words; thehugs he received in the Resistance headquarters were of greeting, and not thekind he’s been craving. Sahuna will know this without him saying so, and hesends his message.
Do they not hug at all? she writes at theend of her lengthy response to his stories. Or are you concerned it wouldnot be welcome?
He thinks about all the times he’s seen Rydergive her crew a hug – Vetra, upon finding peanut butter in the galley; Drack,when they won a third obstacle course; Liam, after he told a story about hismother and suddenly had trouble speaking around his unshed tears. Jaalswallows. It is not the former, and though everything he’s seen of them overthe past two months says otherwise, a part of him still worries that it’s thelatter.
III.
He steps out of medbay, leaving Ryder tospeak with the Moshae. Exaltation is…horrific. He has no other word for it, andacrid bile burns at the back of his throat as images from the facility racethrough his mind.
“You alright, mate?” Liam asks asJaal passes the other man in the research center.
“I…I need some time,” he says. Thesimple answer is no, but it’s far too complex a thing right now. Heneeds to just feel for a while, before he tries to put words to it.
Liam reaches out and, in a mirror of hismovements in the base, rests his hand lightly on Jaal’s shoulder. “If youneed to talk.”
Jaal nods. “When I know what words tosay.”
With a soft smile, Liam slides his hand downJaal’s shoulder, to his arm, to his hand. He squeezes lightly, and then letsgo. “You got it.”
He leaves Liam to his research and enters thecool, quiet sanctuary of the tech lab. Nothing captures his attention, and hisarm nearly tingles with the memory of Liam’s touch – tingles with the need for more.He’s on the verge of walking back out and asking when the quiet doorchime dings.
“Come in,” he says, the hoarsenessof his own voice surprising. He clears his throat.
Ryder steps in far enough that the doorcloses behind her. And then steps closer, until she’s only a foot away fromhim. She’s let her hair down, and she looks up at him through wispy pieces ofbright orange. She blinks, and tilts her head, like she’s unsure of her words.It’s an odd, disconcerting expression on her.
Jaal can’t stand it any longer – between theconstant knot of imbalance in his stomach to the discovery of Exaltation, it’sall just much too much – and he reaches out and draws her to him. He wraps hisarms around her slender frame, nearly engulfing her as he holds her close.Hugging or being hugged, he’s so desperate that it doesn’t matter.
She sighs quietly and leans into him, bringingher own arms up around his waist, holding him as tightly as he’s holding her.
Tears spring to his eyes. Too much time haspassed, and her touch is overwhelming and not enough all at once. He rests hischeek atop her head and tightens his embrace, flattening his palms over herback. Her hair is soft and strange, and smells good. Like flowers and freshrain, like comfort.
“Thank you,” he whispers after along while. He doesn’t move to part from her, but she doesn’t move either.
“Any time,” she says, and there’sso much soft conviction in her voice that he knows she means it.
IV.
Victoria is small and warm and soft in hisarms, and Liam is strong and warm and solid at his back. They’re both longasleep, and Jaal’s as tired – even more so – as he was when they climbed intoher bed and curled around each other an hour ago; they feel so good around him, he hardly wants towaste this feeling by sleeping through it. He presses a kiss to her shoulder,letting his lips linger on her skin, and squeezes Liam’s hand, gently so as notto wake him.
She makes a quiet little noise in her sleepand scoots closer to him, and Liam nuzzles his neck with his cold nose. Jaalsmiles, and lets himself start to drift into sleep.
And the unsteady, wobbly part inside of himfinds its balance.
6 for victoria/liam/jaal if you still want prompts?
#6 - piggyback rides. I may have taken some liberties with Tempest architecture regarding ladder locations. And this got out of hand real fast. Real fast.
***
Ryder’s high-pitched squeal pulls Jaal’sattention away from his tinkering. Curious, he steps out of the tech lab, onlyto nearly collide with Drack and…Ryder? Held on his back as he runs three timesaround the research console, and into the cockpit? Jaal watches, equal partsconfused and fascinated.
With perhaps a tinge of concern. These arethe people he trusts to watch his back in a firefight.
“I’m going to catch you, old man!”Liam cries as he exits the cargo bay, Peebee on his back.
“Doesn’t look like it!” Drackcalls, his heavy footsteps echoing over the glass walkway. The cockpit doorshiss open, and then closed, and open again. Drack comes back out while Liam’sin his second lap of the center console. He’s strolling now, with Ryder grinningwide and triumphantly holding a scrap of green fabric over her head.
Liam groans and releases his hold on Peebee’slegs, letting her step down to the floor. “Damn,” he says.
Drack and Ryder do a slow lap around theroom, high-fiving their crew mates.
“You tried,” Peebee says, ahalf-hearted attempt at consolation. “Dibs on Vetra next time, she’sspeedy.” She twirls a bit and leans against the console, next to Vetra.She winks at the turian.
“Ouch,” Liam says, clasping hishand over his chest. “Harsh.”
She shrugs. “You lost this on the ladders.To Drack.”
“All hail the undefeated champions ofthe Tempest obstacle course!” Ryder shouts at the end of theirvictory lap, raising both arms up in triumph.
“You’ve done this twice,”Lexi says.
Jaal’s new to the Tempest, only beenon board a week and a half, and his fellow crew often need to explain theirtone or sarcasm or jokes. But Lexi’s disapproval is as clear as the waterfallson Aya.
Drack shrugs. “Still won both times,didn’t we?”
Lexi just shakes her head, and mutters to herself underher breath.
Ryder hops down, a wide smile on her face,and drapes the green fabric in a haphazard sash over Drack’s armor. He slingshis thick, armored arm around her shoulders and she stumbles a bit under thesudden weight, but stands straight, grinning.
She catches sight of Jaal watching, and giveshim a little wave.
***
There’s a crown to consider now. Made of a dull metal amalgam with mismatched gemstones (and several pieces of what Jaalthinks might accidentally be bone) around the tips, the crown is hideous.But it is a crown nonetheless, and ever since Suvi and Vetra finally defeatedRyder and Drack several months ago, the crown has passed from team to team. Andit is up for grabs again tomorrow.
Ryder plops back down on the bed, tucks herbare legs under her, and turns on the holoprojector. Kallo’s plans for the newobstacle course flicker into the air. The lights dim, and the windows darken,letting the map glow bright blue.
Three teams of three this time. They’reallowed to switch configurations as often as they want, but one member must beon the back of another at all times. The rest of the rules are the same asalways: no intentional physical contact with other teams, and don’t break theship.
(Other, rather specific rules have surfacedover the past months, for participants and course-makers alike: leave the pyjakalone, walls are not floors, access hatches and crawlspaces are not valid meansof avoiding the laser grid section, the floor is not allowed to actually belava.
Jaal’s favorite is “no use of biotics toadjust local gravity,” which turned, after the very next race, into“no adjusting local gravity by any means at all.”
But by and large, the basic rules areenough.)
“Okay,” Ryder says, pushing herhair out of her eyes. She zooms in on the cargo bay. It’s a mess of ropes andrickety makeshift bridges, with no clear route from the armory up to the secondfloor doorway.
Jaal tries to trace a path with his finger,but winds up in a dead end inside the Nomad within six steps.
“This the configuration he’susing?” Liam asks.
Ryder takes a swig of her beer. “Hopeso.” She squints at the hologram. “I take that back. I hope not.”Her lips twist into a frown and her nose scrunches up.
The Concentration Face, Peebee calls it. Theexpression looks absurd on her, but Jaal’s never seen it fail. Ryder’s eyesshift slightly right, and she tilts her head.
“I have an idea.”
***
Jaal adjusts his arms, settling Ryder moresteadily against his back, and twists his body. The motion is enough to changetheir direction, and his feet hit just above the galley doors, sending themback down the hallway. As they pass the center point, Ryder reaches up and grabsone of the medallions off the underside of the walkway. The door to the cargobay opens, and Vetra and Peebee fly out in a barely-controlled spin. Rydershifts her weight, rolling them out of the way of the other team. She shifts her weight back, straightening them, and Jaal takes them through the door and into the cargo bay for the last challenge.
Despite the gravity change, the boxes andgear forming the walls of the maze have remained mostly in place. They’rethrough the first third of it when the air starts to buzz.
The only warning they get is SAM - Ryder,Jaal; Gil has regained access to the artificial gravity controls - and abrief alarm over the shipwide intercom, and then they fall a foot and a halfonto the deck. Jaal takes the full brunt of it, and grunts.
“You okay?” Ryder asks, and he can hearthe shift in her voice from Obstacle Course Combatant to Doctor. She sits up,straddling his hips, taking her weight off his back and chest.
“Yes,” he says, pressing his palmsto the floor and shifting his weight to bring his knees under him. “Holdon.” She may have switched - however briefly - out of Obstacle Course Combatant,but he has not. He hears Vetra and Peebee arguing about which way to go at thebeginning of the maze.
Ryder hooks her legs on his hips and graspshis shoulders, and he carefully stands to his feet. While he would consider asudden influx of gravity a good excuse for breaking the one player mustalways be giving a piggy-back ride to another rule, he doubts theiropponents would see it as such.
Especially since Ryder took a rather liberal interpretation of the concept of local gravity by disabling it for the entire ship.
The maze only stymies him once - and Ryderstraightens and sits up tall, peering over the top of the obstacles to directhim out of the corner - and then they’re out and at the ladders.
“They should’ve left the gravity off forthis,” Ryder mutters as she flattens herself against Jaal’s back and hebegins to climb.
Jaal allows himself a glance to the side ashe reaches the top. Vetra’s about halfway up the ladder with Peebee; she’sstarting to slow, but not enough to make their lead comfortable. He tightenshis arms around Ryder’s legs and runs.
Through the cargo bay upper balcony - pastDrack and Cora still trying to navigate the ropes obstacle, somehow having moretrouble now that gravity’s back, and Suvi shouting encouragement from the side,though there no chance for them to even come in second now - and to the upperlevel door, where Liam’s waiting. Jaal turns, and Ryder climbs off of him andonto Liam. As soon as he has a solid grip on her legs, Liam takes off at a deadrun down the length of the ship, Gil and Peebee at his heels. The cargo baydoor closes, shutting off Jaal's view of the end of the race.
Not five seconds later, Kallo comes over theintercom. “We have a winner!”
The door opens again, and Jaal steps forwardand leans against the wall, trying to calm his breath. He waits anxiously forthe cockpit door to open, with Vetra doing the same beside him.
The cockpit door whooshes open, and Jaalgrins wide. Liam steps out, Ryder on his shoulders now, the ugly crown perchedcrooked atop her head.
***
Infoboard Message #304Subject: Gravity
Gravity aboard the Tempest is to remain at 1G (9.807 m/s2) at all times. Peebee’s escape pod is the only exception. {Cora}
You’re just mad because you couldn’t figure out a ropes course. {Liam}
I have read the Initiative handbook, and there is no such rule. {Jaal}
[attached: AIHandbookLatestUpdateCH.pdf] {Cora}
If you’re allowed to make up Initiative-wide rules just because you lost a race, then I’m allowed to charge the fiend. {Ryder}
