Work Text:
Dividing us there lies no sea,
nor mountain barrier:
only a handful of spreading grass
is our growing frontier.
The news of their mom being terminally sick was like being struck by lightning.
Sure, it was no real surprise that anyone who studied biotics, had health problems. But the illness that struck Ellen Ryder had been absurdly strong and deadly, with nothing that could slow the illness down, or cure it.
Sara knew it. She checked. And re-checked. And then checked it out again, only for the same results to come up every time.
Scott took to denial, at least at first. If he didn’t acknowledge it, it just wouldn’t be real, yes?
Their dad, however… Dad took to bargaining. He refused to accept the news, just like them, but in his mind, there was nothing he couldn’t overcome, if only he spent enough time on finding the solution.
Mom took it the best of them. There were times when Sara could see traces of fear in the way her smile faded just a little bit, when her eyes got unfocused just like that, how she stumbled over the words with a small hitch, mostly unnoticeable, but she knew it was there.
She noticed how dad’s lips tightened every time it happened.
Scott kept his post at Arcturus Station, and she kept on jumping all over the galaxy, looking over Prothean Ruins, hoping for a sliver of hope on those scarce relics the archeologists she was protecting could tell her about. The whole Mars Archives were bound to be full of so much knowledge, if only they could decipher it quicker, connect the dots and come up with a breakthrough.
And then it came. Alec Ryder, their dad, was dishonorably discharged over an illegal Ai research, ruining both her and Scott’s careers in one fell swoop. Nothing all of them had done could hold against the weight of dad’s research, and when Sara had nothing to do for several weeks already, she couldn’t help but think about a certain Marine she once met, one Ashley Williams, granddaughter of General Williams, who once told her that having a certain family connections means you already finished before you even started.
And mom was getting worse. That was obviously the only remotely positive thing in the whole affair - they got to spend time with mom, the little she had left.
The wind sweeps over mountain tops,
and a bird can cross the sea:
but that little grass holds our searching hands
apart eternally.
They said their farewells, Sara and Scott leaving their dad to say his last goodbyes, before they broke down.
Their mom was dead, and for them, it felt as if the whole galaxy could crumble around them, and it still would be preferable to the feelings of emptiness where their hearts were supposed to be.
When dad came to them with the offer of having them join him in the Andromeda Initiative, neither of them hesitated. In the Alliance, they were personae non grata. In the Initiative, they could have a future, and SAM, the AI their father developed, could actually be useful.
Of course, that was before they woke up over six hundred years in the future, dad dying while saving Sara’s life, and making her a new human Pathfinder; SAM being a steady presence in her mind, when she felt alone - dad being dead, and Scott being in a coma.
Slowly, dad’s memories locked in SAM came forth during their struggle for survival, and for the first time in so long, Sara felt hope.
Months later, they finally had a home in Andromeda, and a steady group of friends by their side. And she and Scott stood in the cryo bay, her heart so full it felt like bursting any given time.
“So, what exactly am I looking at?”
A single cryo pod. Elizabeth Reilly. But not a real name, an alias, made up by dad, one of the last things on his plan before they left the Milky Way.
Sarah smiled.
“Scott, it’s… mom .”