HIS SHOES: A Mass Effect Fic
Warnings: blood, violence, war
My father was dead. It didn't feel right to put on his uniform, but I knew I had to. It was the only way to survive, and I knew he'd want me to survive. I scrambled to put them on as best as I knew how although the pieces didn't fit right. The chest piece was too tall, too wide, and when I took a step I clattered to the ground as my knees hit the shin guards much below where they would have fit if he'd been wearing them. But he wasn't. Screams filled the compound around me. I hugged the chest plate and leg armor to my chest on the ground in the corner. The air smelled of ozone and smoke. My stomach lurched and threatened to empty its contents all over the floor. Gunfire came in bursts and the walls flickered blue with bionic charges, gripping my insides and twisting them around. I could be like him - fearless - but then why hadn't I moved? With every quick breath I took, tears leaked from the corners of my eyes and I hastily wiped them away with the back of my hand, no doubt leaving smudges of ash and dirt behind. No. I would not cry. Not when there were people who needed me. I looked up from the ground at the alien creature lying dead in the middle of the room. My father's rifle lay where I had dropped it, on the floor several feet away. I did throw up then. Stomach acid burned the back of my throat and my stomach lurched again. I hadn't killed it on purpose. It just...happened. It was going to kill me and I fired. It dropped dead on the spot with a sickening splatter of blood. I looked away again, what would he say if he could see me now? His own son, cowering before the dead. I spit and wiped my mouth again. Taking a deep breath, I pulled myself to my feet still holding onto the armored uniform. A bold, red and white N7 logo emblazoned on each piece. The gun shots echoed, blasting through the compound and the walls shook with the groans of heavy machinery. My throat threatened to close up on me and my chest felt as though a thousand bricks had been placed there. Footsteps at the door. The air in my lungs was gone and my back hit the wall of the corner I'd been hiding in. I could barely reach the rifle but I hooked the strap onto my foot and pulled it toward me. I couldn't feel my hands, but they worked as they did before holding the gun in my arms. The footsteps entered the doorway and stopped. "Spirits..." the voice muttered somewhat low and gravelly. He grunted as he stepped toward the body on the ground. I couldn't stay still any longer. With a yell I rushed out at him firing the gun. It happened too fast and suddenly I was on the ground again, panting. "Easy there, son." He took the rifle from my hands and called out over his shoulder out the door, "I found him! Shepherd's boy. I found 'im". A tall blue turian looked down at me. Suddenly I couldn't hide the tears. They came faster than I could wipe them away. The turian stood there a moment, watching me. I looked away, ashamed. I was weak and now even my savior knew it. Movement caught my eye and I glanced up. His hand was extended toward me. "Come on, kid. We gotta go." I cautiously took his hand and he pulled me to my feet. "You knew my dad?" He didn't answer. He wasn't looking at me. He gazed sadly at the armor I'd been holding and slowly picked up the pieces. He looked down at me still holding onto his hand. "You'll fit into this someday, kid. You will, I guarantee it"
