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tarysande · 7 years

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Fic Update: Any Four Walls: Cool Aunt

Heyyy, why not update a story I haven’t updated in more than a year while everyone is off playing new game? *finger guns*

(In all seriousness, sorry for the long delay. I don’t anticipate one NEARLY as long again. This chapter sets up an arc I’ve had in my head for years!)

On AO3

Cool Aunt

After three hours spent as sole caregiver to her brother’s daughters, Solana was beginning to have serious doubts about her own suitability as a parent, which made her current state of impending motherhood all the more terrifying. No going back now. Not even if she was having sudden visions of just how woefully underprepared she was. And she was. In vivid color.

Taking the girls off their parents’ hands for a day had seemed like such a good idea at the time. Step one to reaching coveted cool aunt status. Girls day out. Or in. Something. Fun. Definitely fun.

To be honest, she hadn’t actually thought that far ahead when she made the offer.

Garrus had an itinerary of political obligations as long as his arm, which only made Solana shudder and wonder how she could ensure her own position in the Hierarchy rose no further than it was already. Though Shepard had been perfectly willing to stay and entertain the children, Garrus did not disguise how much he wanted her with him. More than that, Solana knew they were far more effective a team when working together, especially when it came to fighting for things they believed in. Solana wasn’t privy to the details, but whatever it was they were dealing with now left a grim expression on her brother’s face whenever he thought no one was looking. Shepard’s wasn’t much better.

While arguing with one or the other of them was possible, when they presented a unified front, Sol wasn’t sure they’d ever actually failed. Being on kid-duty for a day seemed a small price to pay, if it helped relieve some of the tension lurking beneath her brother’s plates or in the furrowed cant of Shepard’s human brows.

Off they’d gone, and with them Naxus and her father to their respective work, leaving Solana in possession of two sleepy girls and many hours to fill. The sleepiness had worn off after breakfast, replaced by the kind of frenetic activity Solana usually associated with a firefight. Or stims. Or stims during a firefight.

And that was only hour one.

On hour four, tired to her bones and having exhausted all avenues of entertainment via vid-watching or reading or playing in the garden with nothing resembling nap time in sight, Solana bundled the girls into her skycar and took the scenic route into town. This served the dual purpose of helping pass time and avoiding some of the worst areas of Reaper destruction still in the process of being cleaned up. She didn’t need to ask to know Tyrra was uneasy; the girl sat in the back seat with her hands folded, looking anywhere but out the windows. Beside her sister, hip pressed to hip and shoulder to shoulder, Rose kept up a steady stream of conversation requiring no responses. Most of it seemed to be about some vid series Solana had never heard of.

With sinking certainty, Solana realized she was going to have to know these things at some point. Hot vids, and the names of the characters in them. The right toys. Lingo.

How to change a dirty baby. How to feed one. How to stop one from crying.

“Spirits,” she muttered under her breath.

“Are you okay, Auntie Sol?”

“Of course,” she lied, wondering about the stats on new parents who somehow broke their offspring in the first week. Or day. Or hour. She wondered if there was a record. She wondered if she was going to break it.

Machines she could do. Code? Without a doubt. Even the trickiest, most finicky wiring? Not a problem.

Real living creatures were a whole other matter.

There was, after all, a reason why she’d never kept pets.

“It’s just you have a real funny look, like the one Dad gets when he’s gotta go on the vids.”

“He hates the vids,” Tyrra added. Solana didn’t miss the way the girl’s subharmonics seemed to ask if Solana hated them the way Garrus hated public appearances.

With a touch more honesty than she was entirely comfortable with—and how honest were you supposed to be with children about things like this, anyway?—Solana replied, “I wasn’t busy hating anything, I promise.” One hand waved in the general vicinity of the alien lifeform now growing within her. “I’m only a little nervous about this whole having a kid of my own thing.”

“Why?” Rose asked, so guileless Solana could’ve hugged her. “You’ve been doing real good with us, except for when you almost mixed up the breakfast foods and when you almost locked us out of the house and when—”

Tyrra cleared her throat loudly.

“Oh,” said Rose. “Sorry. Yeah. You’re doing good. Definitely.”

She said definitely exactly the way Garrus would have said it. Only Garrus would have smirked. And then Sol would have had to kill him.

“I think you get used to it, anyway,” offered Tyrra, finally looking up from the hands folded in her lap. “Taking care of babies. They don’t do very much. Just eat and sleep and need their diapers changed. Mostly they like it when you hold them and sing to them, and they don’t like loud noises. They like to feel safe.”

Solana’s breath caught when she realized Tyrra was speaking from experience, and that the experience hid the kind of grief no nine-year-old kid should ever have known. Sol was forced to correct for an unintentional swerve. The weave and drop made Rose giggle.

“Well,” Sol said, too brightly, her subharmonics hiding nothing, “I have to admit I don’t have any experience at all. Garrus is the older brother; I think he did all the baby stuff when I was small. That’s what my mom always said when he pissed me off later, anyway: ‘Be nice to your brother, dear heart, he used to change your diapers.’”

“Dad’s pretty good with babies,” Rose agreed, kicking her feet back and forth. Solana noticed she was wearing different colored socks pulled up overtop of her envirosuit, one pink and one bright blue with sparkly stars. “Mom’s soooo bad.”

Tyrra’s mandibles fluttered in amusement. “She really is.”

Solana laughed. “If Shepard—of all people—can set such a low bar, maybe there’s hope I’ll be able to step over it.”

Tyrra glanced out the window and didn’t immediately look away; the smile remained on her face. Solana couldn’t help feeling it was a victory. “I think she doesn’t do well when she can’t talk to them.”

“Sounds about right.” Solana held up a finger. “She’s good with words.” She’s held up the other. “She’s good with guns.” Opening her palm, she shrugged one shoulder. “Something she can neither talk to or shoot at probably causes no end of discomfort. I should remember that.”

Tyrra laughed. Rose leaned forward against her restraints and said, “One time she almost dropped a baby someone wanted her to hold, like, for a picture? It was screaming and wriggling and the mom was all ‘Please, Commander Shepard’ even though Mom’s not a commander anymore but I guess that’s how everyone knows her and the baby was just like, ‘Wahh’ and Mom was getting all flustered until Dad kinda saved her and made a joke about always having her six even against, um, the most hostile hostiles? It was pretty funny. Then the baby puked right in her face. Like, a lot. I think it was on the vids. You should look it up.”

“Oh, I will,” said Solana, grinning. “I absolutely will. Now, girls, I was thinking we might do a little shopping, but we could also—”

When the crash sounded and the skycar began plummeting to the ground, Solana’s first thought was that there’d been some kind of rockfall—her route had taken them close to the mountains to avoid the worst of the valley’s Reaper destruction—but the screech of metal on metal whispered an even more alarming truth. They were under attack. Her fingers danced over the haptic interface, trying to wrestle back control and even out the car’s trajectory. Beneath her talons, her instruments recorded a flash of energy before flickering and dying.

She swallowed her panic because she had to. She had to.

In the shadow of the mountain, the interior of the vehicle was dark without its glowing lights and reassuring screens and readouts.

Rose screamed once, high and terrified. Tyrra remained silent, talons digging hard into the seat.

“It’s okay,” Solana said, breathless. The side of the car bounced hard off the rock face, potently punctuating her lie. She reached for the weapon at her hip, while scrambling for the other in its secret compartment under her interface panel. The first she attempted to hand to Tyrra, but the older girl only stared straight ahead, mandibles pulled tight to her face and eyes so wide Solana knew she was seeing something very different from the inside of a falling car.

—beasts wearing turian faces krogan bodies turian teeth tearing turian eyes and her leg her leg her leg leave me dad leave me just go on without me save yourself they’re turians oh spirits they were turians once—

Rose took the weapon before Solana could stop her. Her face was wet with tears beneath the envirosuit’s mask. With a weary sadness so at odds with her usual ebullience, Rose closed her hands around a grip far too big for her little hands and said, “I know what to do, Auntie Sol. Aim for the eyes. Always point at the eyes and pull and pull and pull and pull and don’t stop.”

Some of the pressure from above eased. The backup generator stuttered to life, providing enough power for Sol to get the safety landing gear mostly extended, though she had to release her restraints and reach for the manual controls to do so, and the damned things still stuck half-in, half-out. When the second crash came, her head hit the side window hard enough to make her see stars.

—turian faces krogan bodies turian keening from a monster’s throat—

The roar in her ears refused to diminish. Clutching at her weapon, she tried to see into the back seat, but her vision remained alternately blurred and dark. Pain arcing down her spine and across her belly stole a low keening note from her throat.

—i won’t leave you you know i won’t leave you—

Metal crunched. A third attack from above was enough to finally push the car into the dirt, and though the landing gear cushioned them somewhat, the lack of power and maneuverability sent Solana against the window again, curling so her back and cowl took most of the damage. She blinked, swiping at the blood in her eyes, gasping around the pain. She’d had worse. She’d lived through worse.

—turian teeth tearing—

“Rose? You okay, dear heart? Tyrra? Tyrra?”

“Yes,” replied Rose promptly. “Is…is it Reapers?”

“The Reapers are gone. I promise.” Solana swallowed hard, tasting yet more blood. Her bad leg felt strange, hollow. Like the phantom limb tingling she’d suffered before her surgery to replace it. Another screaming ripple of pain twisted her gut. “Is Tyrra—”

“She’s in the bad place.”

The driver’s side window imploded in a shower of glass that skittered across Solana’s plates without enough force to cause damage. She wasted neither time nor words, turning her gun in the direction of the sound and shooting. No satisfying sound of injury met her shots.

“Rose, tell me what you see.”

In a whisper, Rose said, “There’s a lot of legs, Auntie Sol. I can’t see their faces. It’s not Reapers. I think it’s—”

Unconsciousness found Solana before Rose finished. She fought it, clawing at the light with everything she had. Not enough. Not enough. Not enough.

—they’re turians oh spirits they were turians once—

#any four walls #shepard vakarian family shenanigans #shakarian #solana vakarian #garrus vakarian #femshep #rose and tyrra #mass effect #my fic #fanfiction #sorry

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