Send me a “👶🏿“ for a childhood memory from my muse.
London, 2162, Liam age 8
“Daddy!” Liam tugged on Anderson’s hand his little Irish accent filling the room. “Where are we going?” The little boy looked up at the man tugging on his hand again.
There was just a rumble from the man along with two words.
His little blue eyes grew wide when he spotted the space port. Grandpa worked here! They were going to see Grandpa! David waved at her father as he climbed down from a ladder with a rag in his hand.
“Grandpa!” Liam let go of David’s hand running towards the older Anderson.
He refuses to let go for a few more moments, the loneliness that had settled over him during Liam’s absence lifting just enough for him to hold tighter. So many moments he had wished for this, wanting nothing more than to have Liam with him, alive and whole, and it was finally happening.
In the end, he had t let go, and his breath left him in a loud sigh of mingled disappointment and relief. His son was alive, and despite all the hurt they had both been through, they were both here. Leaning heavily on his good leg, he waved off the ex-commander’s concern. “I’m fine. Nothing I can’t handle. More importantly, are you?”
He held onto David’ by the elbow sniffing heavily. “I...” He swallowed heavily unsure how to answer the question at first. “I,” He stared at David’s chest for a moment. He bit his bottom lip. “I don’t know.” He finally got out. “No one has asked me that in awhile.”
He held onto his father for dear life. He moved forward again hiding his face in David’s shoulder still not really believing that the man was really here.
Physical therapy had gone well as he had expected in which it was painful and he didn’t want to do it at all. These days that was the norm for Liam. A lot of new things were as well. The waking up to no emails or reports from the fronts pinging at his desk. Or the smell of Kaidan in his bed… it was still new to him even if they had been doing it for almost two years at this point.
Working his way across the compound Liam found himself feeling claustrophobic from all the movement around him. He still wasn’t cleared for duty… field duty that is. He was turned into a desk monkey. At first he thought he would enjoy giving himself something to do letting his mind wander as he did simple tasks, but, it didn’t work out that way.
For the first time in years he felt like he was doing nothing to contribute to this post war world that he helped create. Huffing out a sigh the long legged commander started shuffling his way to the only person he knew that he could ramble to: his father.
By now Shepard could find Anderson’s room with his eyes closed after spending so much time in it. Knocking once he entered the admiral’s room dropping heavily into the seat, that for once did not hold Kahlee, the older man just lifted an eyebrow at is adopted son prompting the blond to speak.
It took a long moment of silence before Liam opened his mouth only to shut it again a second later. He started at Anderson’s arm resting on the bed before he opened his mouth again.
“For as long as I can remember I just wanted to do what was right.”
He remembered saving Wrex on Virmire but only to leave Ashley to die in a ball of flames. Or letting Garrus kill the traitor of his team.
“I guess I’m not quite sure what that is anymore.”
Working with the old burned Alliance black ops group of Cerberus even though they made his skin crawl. Walking around old burned out building waiting for the scream of a Banshee or the roar of a Brute to tear the playing children apart.
“And I thought I could, throw myself back in and follow orders, serve…”
The war had given him purpose… but without it he was just another soldier. An old broken down soldier. One that was a prisoner to war's design. Without war what was his purpose? He was just a soldier. He was good at tearing things apart not rebuilding them.
“It’s just not the same.” He tried to bright it up with a small tug of his lips into a half ass smile and little eyebrow raise knowing Anderson wouldn’t buy it for a second.
When he finally looked up at his father he knew… and so did David. They both were prisoners of war… but of a different kind.
