Kaidan Alenko (
not_a_whiner) wrote in
fandomtownies2013-02-03 02:16 pm
Entry tags:
The Beach, Early Sunday Morning
He'd been right - it had not been a good night. Still wasn't, actually.
Kaidan had spent most of the night in his room, on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. His body felt tired, but his mind was racing; every time he turned to sleep thinking he'd silenced his mind, the thoughts crept back in and put a stranglehold on his brain. He needed sleep - if he stressed himself out and combined that with sleeplessness, he was going to wind up having migraines for most of next week. He knew that.
But it didn't calm his mind.
Eventually, he gave up. It was still dark out, but on the new day's side of the night - just a couple of hours and the sun would come up. He'd already tried doing push-ups, a voice in the back of his mind urging him to finally start picking up the slack, become better, faster, stronger, until he'd slid back into bed thinking I'm tired now, but not sleeping.
Now? Now he was giving up. Getting dressed.
Walking out the front door and jogging down the road. Down a few flights of stairs. A few laps around the inner city. When that didn't help, he took the path downwards to the beach.
It was the sound of the waves crashing on the rocks that finally drove him out of numbness. He remembered that sound, the way the waves did the same thing on Virmire, over and over against the coastline. The water washing up the legs of his armor as he leaned heavily against the bomb, firing rounds at the geth as they kept coming at him.
He sat down on one of those rocks, right next to the patch of sand where just yesterday Ash had, in a streak of poetic inspiration, written lines in the sand. They were all gone now, of course, and he couldn't remember most of it. 'We gave our lives to Normandy', and then something, something.
He released a breath and dropped his face into his hands. He listened to the waves.
[[ open ]]
Kaidan had spent most of the night in his room, on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. His body felt tired, but his mind was racing; every time he turned to sleep thinking he'd silenced his mind, the thoughts crept back in and put a stranglehold on his brain. He needed sleep - if he stressed himself out and combined that with sleeplessness, he was going to wind up having migraines for most of next week. He knew that.
But it didn't calm his mind.
Eventually, he gave up. It was still dark out, but on the new day's side of the night - just a couple of hours and the sun would come up. He'd already tried doing push-ups, a voice in the back of his mind urging him to finally start picking up the slack, become better, faster, stronger, until he'd slid back into bed thinking I'm tired now, but not sleeping.
Now? Now he was giving up. Getting dressed.
Walking out the front door and jogging down the road. Down a few flights of stairs. A few laps around the inner city. When that didn't help, he took the path downwards to the beach.
It was the sound of the waves crashing on the rocks that finally drove him out of numbness. He remembered that sound, the way the waves did the same thing on Virmire, over and over against the coastline. The water washing up the legs of his armor as he leaned heavily against the bomb, firing rounds at the geth as they kept coming at him.
He sat down on one of those rocks, right next to the patch of sand where just yesterday Ash had, in a streak of poetic inspiration, written lines in the sand. They were all gone now, of course, and he couldn't remember most of it. 'We gave our lives to Normandy', and then something, something.
He released a breath and dropped his face into his hands. He listened to the waves.
[[ open ]]

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Eventually her wanderings took her to the beach. It took half a second to realize who was already there, and another half second before Allie was on her way to join him.
She perched on the rock and directed her gaze out to sea, still awed by the waves and the endless horizon even after all her time in Fandom.
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Then he looked back at the surf.
"Hey."
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That, or he was just as stoic a brick wall. One of the two.
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Lips quirked in fond exasperation, she shook her head. "Liar."
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He was just... not terribly predisposed towards talking about his own problems when someone else had their own shit to deal with. "How long has she been...?"
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"Almost seven years." Which fortunately was enough time to accept the fact that someone was dead. Especially when you had to focus on surviving.
"She feels guilty for leaving me alone when I was so young," Allie replied. "And she's not happy that I'm planning on going back. But she understands. At least as much as she could."
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At least one of them had gotten some kind of relief out of this whole situation. He couldn't be unhappy about that.
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"I'm glad you got a chance to meet her." Allie let out a short laugh. "Even that dinner wasn't quite what you planned for Friday night."
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Ashley's insistence that Shepard wasn't dead kept bugging him. Among many other things. But that, he was grateful for.
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He paused. Partly to get his own bearings. Partly to give Allie some time to catch up with all the terminology.
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It wasn't hard to figure out what happened. "So you got sent on the rescue mission."
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"What happened?"
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