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fandomweekly2017-02-12 11:50 am
toffeecat) wrote in fandomweekly2017-02-12 11:50 am
Entry tags:
[#032] Spaced (Mass Effect)
Theme Prompt: #032 - Phobia
Title: Spaced
Fandom: Mass Effect
Rating/Warnings: G / None; small spoilers for the beginning of Mass Effect 2
Bonus: No.
Word Count: 776
Summary: But that had been before she got spaced.
She had been spaced before. She had died before. Shouldn't that make her less scared? Shepard shuddered, her feet glued to the ground. Apparently not. Quite the opposite; her legs were trembling at the sole thought of venturing back out there.
Which was ridiculous, of course. She had saved the galaxy before, had averted certain on more occasions than she cared to count. And she had been outside before, be it during rookie camp or to secure a space station as a spectre. None had proved to be a bigger challenge than those missions with gravity, artificial or not.
But that had been before she got spaced.
Why did the Broker have to hide within a broken space station, of all places? They should have bribed and blackmailed enough credits out of their clients to afford their own system by now!
It was one thing that the wrecked parts that floated silently around them brought back unpleasant memories, and that was putting it mildly. She could easily imagine this place exploding into the ruin it was now. Just as the Normandy had.
Shepard swallowed dryly, trying to keep the nausea at bay. This wasn't her ship. She shot a glance over her shoulder; not that she expected to see the SR2 through the space debris, but she knew she was behind her, and Joker wouldn't lose another ship. The faint hope she had harboured despite herself, that the thought of the Normandy would calm her was quenched, though. She still dreaded to leave the relative safety her current position offered.
But she did; it was what she had always done. Every step she made she tested anew if her boots kept sticking to the surface. Her hand twitched towards the holster of her gun. It wouldn't save her, if someone tossed her into the wide openness that was the Milky Way, but that someone wouldn't live to tell the tale. And that thought was comforting, as macabre as it was.
At least her crew didn't comment on her hesitation. Garrus and Liara were too kind to tease her about her sudden caution, at least now; maybe, because they could imagine her reason for it. Both had told her about her own funeral.
Though she wasn't opposed to chatter at all. It was too quiet. With only her own, shallow breath, it was all too familiar... Just shortly after, she had noticed the leak in her oxygen tank and she-
Forcefully, she pushed the thoughts away. She was Commander Shepard! Well, less Commander than she used to be, and definitely less Shepard, after Cerberus had been done with her, but still. This wreckage wouldn't keep her from finding the Broker, and neither would her trauma.
She inhaled, gaze fixated on the air lock that was still too far away. Just one step after the other, she told herself like a mantra. One step after the other, and she would make it. One step-
Into nothingness.
Her heart skipped a beat as she squeakingly shifted her weight onto the leg without footing; at any other time she would've been mortified but neither squeaking nor panicking helped her as she slowly lost her balance. Groping for a knot of cables to steady herself, her arms swung around her through the vacuum as she missed it by an inch. It only served to throw her off even further.
She drifted to the side, having lost contact to the ground completely; her ragged breath fogged the lower half of her visor.
The galaxy was as beautiful as it was deadly; she had learnt that the hard way. And she was about to learn it for good. Cerberus would not resurrect her a second time.
"Whoa there, Shepard."
Talons closed around her arms, as Garrus' subharmonics-laced voice came in clear over her comm. She wasn't alone. Not this time. Seemingly without effort, he pulled her back onto the hull. But only when she felt ground under her boots again her tension relaxed slightly.
He clapped her back. She saw the worry in his eyes as he checked on her. "You okay?"
She nodded. Her attempt at a half-smile didn't seem to convince him, though. He had known her thoughts. Obviously. Because he had the same, just for the brief moment she had given in to microgravity. He had believed her dead for two years. The raw fear of loss she had seen flicker in his eyes for only a split second almost broke her heart.
Still, his concern quickly turned into a mischievous gleam.
"Did you just squeak?"
Shepard huffed indignantly. "Shut up, Garrus."
He would never let her live it down.
Title: Spaced
Fandom: Mass Effect
Rating/Warnings: G / None; small spoilers for the beginning of Mass Effect 2
Bonus: No.
Word Count: 776
Summary: But that had been before she got spaced.
She had been spaced before. She had died before. Shouldn't that make her less scared? Shepard shuddered, her feet glued to the ground. Apparently not. Quite the opposite; her legs were trembling at the sole thought of venturing back out there.
Which was ridiculous, of course. She had saved the galaxy before, had averted certain on more occasions than she cared to count. And she had been outside before, be it during rookie camp or to secure a space station as a spectre. None had proved to be a bigger challenge than those missions with gravity, artificial or not.
But that had been before she got spaced.
Why did the Broker have to hide within a broken space station, of all places? They should have bribed and blackmailed enough credits out of their clients to afford their own system by now!
It was one thing that the wrecked parts that floated silently around them brought back unpleasant memories, and that was putting it mildly. She could easily imagine this place exploding into the ruin it was now. Just as the Normandy had.
Shepard swallowed dryly, trying to keep the nausea at bay. This wasn't her ship. She shot a glance over her shoulder; not that she expected to see the SR2 through the space debris, but she knew she was behind her, and Joker wouldn't lose another ship. The faint hope she had harboured despite herself, that the thought of the Normandy would calm her was quenched, though. She still dreaded to leave the relative safety her current position offered.
But she did; it was what she had always done. Every step she made she tested anew if her boots kept sticking to the surface. Her hand twitched towards the holster of her gun. It wouldn't save her, if someone tossed her into the wide openness that was the Milky Way, but that someone wouldn't live to tell the tale. And that thought was comforting, as macabre as it was.
At least her crew didn't comment on her hesitation. Garrus and Liara were too kind to tease her about her sudden caution, at least now; maybe, because they could imagine her reason for it. Both had told her about her own funeral.
Though she wasn't opposed to chatter at all. It was too quiet. With only her own, shallow breath, it was all too familiar... Just shortly after, she had noticed the leak in her oxygen tank and she-
Forcefully, she pushed the thoughts away. She was Commander Shepard! Well, less Commander than she used to be, and definitely less Shepard, after Cerberus had been done with her, but still. This wreckage wouldn't keep her from finding the Broker, and neither would her trauma.
She inhaled, gaze fixated on the air lock that was still too far away. Just one step after the other, she told herself like a mantra. One step after the other, and she would make it. One step-
Into nothingness.
Her heart skipped a beat as she squeakingly shifted her weight onto the leg without footing; at any other time she would've been mortified but neither squeaking nor panicking helped her as she slowly lost her balance. Groping for a knot of cables to steady herself, her arms swung around her through the vacuum as she missed it by an inch. It only served to throw her off even further.
She drifted to the side, having lost contact to the ground completely; her ragged breath fogged the lower half of her visor.
The galaxy was as beautiful as it was deadly; she had learnt that the hard way. And she was about to learn it for good. Cerberus would not resurrect her a second time.
"Whoa there, Shepard."
Talons closed around her arms, as Garrus' subharmonics-laced voice came in clear over her comm. She wasn't alone. Not this time. Seemingly without effort, he pulled her back onto the hull. But only when she felt ground under her boots again her tension relaxed slightly.
He clapped her back. She saw the worry in his eyes as he checked on her. "You okay?"
She nodded. Her attempt at a half-smile didn't seem to convince him, though. He had known her thoughts. Obviously. Because he had the same, just for the brief moment she had given in to microgravity. He had believed her dead for two years. The raw fear of loss she had seen flicker in his eyes for only a split second almost broke her heart.
Still, his concern quickly turned into a mischievous gleam.
"Did you just squeak?"
Shepard huffed indignantly. "Shut up, Garrus."
He would never let her live it down.
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