Dedicated to all of those brave souls who gave up their lives for others, to those who fought back the fear and found themselves in their last moments, and dedicated to those left behind. To the friends and family that must struggle to find normalcy after death. While names and faces fade with time, the undying spirit of courage will forever persevere.

Never give into despair, for there will always be light just around the corner.

The Darkened and Quiet Corners of the Mind

The room was dark and quiet. It had been that way since she had come to call it her own space, to use it to continue her research, and possibly aid her new crew in their search.

But the silence was so heavy, so total, she suspected it had been dim and hushed long before she came aboard. So far, these traits of the room had served her well, cutting her off from the rest of crew and maintaining a level of comfort she knew she wouldn't find anywhere else on the ship.

This day was different.

Doctor Liara T'Soni sat motionless in her chair, her elbows placed on either side of the module in front of her, and her chin resting on her intertwined fingers. Though her bright blue eyes faced forward at the orange screen, they did not move.

A dull blankness set over her irises. Her pupils, so often like a black hole to any information, reflected the darkened colors of the room.

The only indications of life in her eyes were the edges of water that had settled themselves stubbornly on her under eyelids.

At last Liara pulled in a deep shuddering breath, and then let it out shakily. The uneven breath was enough to shake loose a tear from her eye. It crept slowly down her face then dropped softly onto her lap.

She closed her eyes shut, screwing up her smooth face

More tears fell from her eyes, and she ducked her head down to press her forehead against her still-crossed fingers, sucking in several ragged more breaths as she did so.

It hadn't been so bad at first. She had stepped out of the Normandy, and followed behind a determined Shepard, thinking that they'd fight some geth and move on, but the words of the dark-skinned human had changed her perception of the situation.

Hope and dread had flared in her chest at the same instant; she was there, on that cold, less-than-civilized planet. Her mother, Matriarch Benezia, was on Novaria. A thousand questions and hopes rushed through her mind, all of them intent on trying to understand why Benezia had joined Saren, and maybe even convincing her to come away from his destructive ideologies. Then hope was replaced with sudden fear: if her mother didn't turn from Saren, if she refused to relent… Liara remembered feeling her insides clench, remembered the sudden stabbing realization. If her mother did not leave Saren, could she willingly point her pistol at the woman who had given her life? Could she unleash her biotics upon the very person that helped teach her to use them?

The first pressing matter, however, was whether Shepard trusted her enough to make the choice when the time came. Head bowed, hands tight against her side, Liara locked her eyes with the Commander, and haltingly asked if she wanted a word about the Matriarch. She had expected the worst, for Shepard to question her loyalty or to return her to the Normandy, saying that she couldn't risk the mission by having the daughter of their target on the team. Instead the Commander shook her head, and said the words that sealed Liara T'Soni's trust and loyalty for as long as the Commander required it.

"I trust you Liara, I know you won't let me down."

All of the questions proved irrelevant in the end. The difficult battle with the asari Commandos, and the geth had culminated in a final showdown with Benezia. Her first words had stung Liara, lasing down though her skin and burning into her soul, they being the words of someone totally lost to darkness, but then her mother had gathered herself up and fixed the three of them, Shepard, Liara, and Tali, with a pleading look. Words of pain spilled from her mother's mouth. It was all she could do not to not to rush to Benezia's side, to give comfort to her pained mother.

At the very last of her life, the Matriarch managed one last good deed, one last rebellion against her captor, by handing over the information they needed. And as her final act as shattered part of the great woman she used to be, Benezia declared her undying pride in her daughter.

Then Saren reclaimed her mind and she turned on them again. This time, Liara found it was somehow easier to turn her weapon on her mother; it was as though the abrupt switch between the pleading broken woman, and the one who used her powerful biotics against them with little restraint, had somehow shown that the mother she remembered, was too deeply buried and too badly broken to ever return.

This had been the truth, for once Benezia had lost the last of her strength, and even as Shepard tried to hold her to life, she told them that she could never be herself again,: that Saren would forever hold her as long as she drew breath. So she sank to the ground, promising Liara that they'd meet again, somewhere…

"Goodnight, Little wing…"

The fate of the Rachni seemed small and insignificant to Liara, even though she argued for the release of the creature.

Liara could not stand to see another creature die heedlessly, couldn't watch another great mother slip forever into oblivion.

The rest of the time on Noveria was lost in a blur to her memory, tiny droplets of time that had been frozen in silence and pain. And yet, she shed had no tears, betrayed no pain. Even after Shepard had come to her with concerned eyes and gentle words, she had said she was fine, that Benezia had made her own choices and had accepted her fate graciously.

Liara told Shepard that she would remember how her mother was before Saren had taken her, remember the woman she really was. Those words had been true at the time, but something had changed just in the last half hour, something, she didn't know what, had broken, and grief had taken its hold on her.

A gnawing empty feeling had worked itself up from her stomach, until she had been engulfed by the shadowy agony.

Perhaps the frozen cold of the planet had numbed her, to the actions she had taken, to the pain of losing her mother; but now, back on the Normandy, the ice that had clawed into the core of her soul, had thawed away, revealing her raw and ravaged heart.

So she sat still, her eyes burning, icy trails of tears, slowly traveling down her face. Her insides felt as though they had curled into a tight knot, twisting and turning with the ache of loss.

Her mother was gone.

There were so many unanswered questions, so many unspoken words, so much time lost… She had simply taken it for granted that she and Benezia might one day reunite, and return to being the mother and daughter they should have been all along.

She drew in another shaking breath, as more tears fell down her face.

Something Shepard had once said to Tali suddenly came rushing back to her.

"We never appreciate what we have, until it's gone."

Liara finally relented her rigid posture, letting her forearms cross themselves on the desk, resting her forehead on them.

All the energy, and all the will, to hold back her emotions had finally drained away. In the dark, silent stillness of the storage room, the young asari wept.

She did not know how long she sat there, lithe body racked with sobs, fists tight, but it felt like an eternity.

With only her own mind and memory for company, the empty pain rolled over her in waves, and each passing moment served only to remind her that she was now completely alone in the galaxy.

Whispers from the Medical Bay slithered through the thin blue door, but they were muffled beyond recognition. Even over her own weeping however, she could guess that Shepard and Chakwas were sharing words. She clenched her eyes painfully shut, willing the tears to stop, or at least to slow. Pulling her lips together, she fought back the deep sobs that struggled to the surface. If Shepard was in the Medical bay it was likely that she would come into the storage bay to check up on her.

Forcing herself up straight, Liara used the back of her hand to wipe away the tear trails. Though she knew her eyes were still darken blue with flushed blood.

She had told Shepard that she was fine, that her pain would not get in the way of the mission, and she intended to keep her word.

She struggled to focus her gaze back on the screen, tried to intake the information that she had collected from the stray Prothean data disk, even as the murmured voices from the room next door ceased.

The door behind her opened with a swish, and she threw a glance back, if just to show the Spectre that she was fine. Though Liara did not meet the eyes of the tall human, knowing that the Commander would be able to tell she had been crying.

There was a moment of taut silence. Normally, whenever Shepard came into the storage room, Liara would rise from her chair and face her. Liara knew that not greeting the commander was a sign that something was amiss, but she felt, perhaps, she could tell the commander that she was concentrating on the data disk, and didn't want to be disturbed.

"Liara…" The concern in Shepard's voice could not be ignored.

Liara fought down the wave of pain that threatened in her throat, and swallowed hard. The effort to keep from breaking back down into tears made a shiver pass through her body, one that she knew had been see seen by the ever observant Spectre.

A long minute of silence passed, and for the first time in her one-hundred and six years, Liara hated it, hated the quiet and the tension it caused between them.

"Liara…" Shepard said again, and the asari had the feeling that the Spectre was trying to find the right words to say.

She tried to unstick her throat enough to give Shepard some kind of excuse, or reassurance, but she knew that she couldn't loosen her vocal cords enough to speak without giving away her current state. So she merely twisted her head slightly, looking back at Shepard.

She was met with the strong stare of a pair of concerned blue-green eyes, set in a face with a strong jaw, sharp chin and full lips.

Shepard's expression changed to sadness, perhaps, Liara mused, she could read the pain in her eyes. The human tilted her head to indicate her sympathy. Liara quickly looked away; she should have known that Shepard was too highly attuned to the feelings of others not to notice her pain.

Knowing that it was now pointless to hold her voice, she said in a whisper. "Shepard, did you need something?" She knew she sounded inconsiderate. She wished she cared enough to apologize for her behavior, but damned if she was too tired, in far to too much pain to really care about anything.

Shepard did not answer, and for a brief painful moment, Liara felt that the Spectre would reprimand her, or worse yet, turn and leave, walk out without saying anything. Leave her to the cold and silence once more, let her sink further into the black abyss.

But suddenly, unexpectedly, Liara felt the lightest of touches on her shoulders. She felt warmth spread down from the pale cream hands seeping down into her arms and slowly creeping into her aching fingers. The gentle touch of Shepard's hands unbalanced her carefully held emotions, and all at once, there was a soaring feeling in her heart, even as a harsh sob tore from her throat. Her stiff posture weakened again.

As if in response to her pain, Shepard moved her hands further down her arms.

Liara had seen her hands deliver almost god-like destruction upon any who dared cross the Spectre, watched as Geth were torn to pieces by the blazing guns she handled without pause, had sensed the tenderness as they carefully applied medigel to painful wounds. She had never realized how intimate the bare hands could feel, how tender and… loving, Shepard's touch could be.

Shepard gently crossed her arms above Liara's breasts even as Liara felt warm breath against her neck. Shepard's forehead pressed gently against Liara's temple, her short, bright blonde hair lightly caressing Liara's cheek and crest. Another tight sob came from Liara's mouth, and she brought up her hands to grasp desperately at Shepard's arms.

She clung onto the Commander.

The simple act of being held became a lifeline.

She still felt as if she was drowning in an ocean of black despair, but at least she no longer felt like she was sinking.

Shepard shifted slightly, moving her head away from Liara's. The asari found herself wanting the soft texture of human hair against her skin, but then she felt lips press tenderly against her temple.

Shepard's full lips were reminiscent of the lightest touch of rose petals that had brushed her face when she was a much younger maiden. Lying on her back in her mother's garden, the sunlight and shadows dancing across her body as the breeze sifted the plants and loosened the petals that fell upon her face, then Benezia's voice calling her back inside...

Shepard kissed her forehead once, twice more, then kissed her cheek, before laying her head once more against Liara's.

"Don't hold back," Shepard whispered. Her voice sounded somehow different, older, wiser.

Liara suddenly had the deeply rooted feeling that she was being spoken to by a Matriarch.

How strange and wonderful humans were: in one moment as powerful, in control and intimidating as a commando, the next, as playful and curious as a young maiden, and, as it was now, like a Matriarch that had seen much in her thousand years of life.

"Don't rein in the pain, or it will overtake your every action,." Shepard's hold on her shoulders tightened., "Don't let the universe become dark to your eyes, Liara. You have too bright and beautiful a soul to let slide into never-ending despair."

Liara's throat constricted painfully and more sobs spilled from her mouth.

"If you hold in the pain, if you don't let the tears go…" Shepard trailed off, and even through her own pain, Liara felt that Shepard was opening up a very sensitive part of herself

"It will become all of what you feel--all of what you see. It will eventually overwhelm you."

Until you can no longer take the pain and the loneliness brought on by your own silence, until you break.," Shepard took in a long steadying breath, then said quietly. "or until something breaks you…"

Liara knew now that Shepard was speaking of Mindoir, of the lost loss of her family and friends, and of her home. Also of the fighting on Elysium:, of the battle that had pulled her away from being the only bloodstained survivor of a brutal human massacre, and into the life and spotlight of a hero, someone whom others aspired to be. Still, Liara held back her tears as much as possible. Despite what Shepard had said, she still felt that she was being weak.

"It's okay Liara,." Shepard seemed to be able to sense what she was feeling, for her voice was strong and caring once again. "I'd never think any less of you, or anyone else, for grieving for what they have lost, no matter the circumstances." Shepard tiled her head just enough for their eyes to meet,

"I still cry for my family sometimes."

Shepard's openness and honesty—especially given that Liara by many measures was still a stranger, and a non-human stranger at that—was more than the emotionally overcharged asari could handle.

She collapsed in Shepard's embrace, tears now slipping freely down her cheeks. Shepard tightened her hold to keep Liara steady even as she leaned her own head against Liara's shoulder, whispering gentle comforts in her ear.

Time lost all meaning, for the longer she cried, the harder she sobbed, and the more tears she shed, the more the darkness inside her chest eased away. The whole while, Shepard held her in a tight embrace, her breath warm against Liara's neck, and her very presence a brightly lit beacon in dark waters.

Liara wasn't quite sure how or when it happened, but somehow she found herself standing, and in Shepard's arms. The tears were still falling from her eyes, but the warmth that spread from Shepard's body and into her own eased the tight pain in her chest. Her cheek lay against the Commander's shoulder, and her arms were wrapped loosely around the taller woman's hips.

Shepard held Liara close, her head settling itself against Liara's, the silken strands of gold caressing the velvet folds of Liara's crest.

Shepard's slow, even breathing was a stable tempo against her own patchy sobs, the steady beating of her heart smoothly flowing warmth into Liara's own breast. The asari was dimly aware that Shepard was slowly guiding the pair of them to the small cot in the corner of the storage room. The human gently pulled her arms loose from Liara's back and sat down on the edge of the cot, her sharp face turned up towards Liara, her brilliant aquamarine eyes filled with sympathy, kindness, and affection. Upon her lips was a small, sad smile. For a moment, Liara just stood over the human, relishing in the support and care that was pouring off Shepard in waves;, then Shepard's hands reached out for her own, their palms pressing together, their fingers intertwining. Liara found herself wishing that her uniform did not cover her hands, wishing that she could feel Shepard's softly callused hands against her own. Warm cream hands against her own pale blue skin.

Gently, Shepard pulled on Liara's arms, guiding her down so that they sat side-by-side on the cot. Their shoulders pressed together for a quick moment before Shepard slid her arms around Liara's back and grasped gently at her elbow, pulling her close so that Liara was leaning on the toned, yet somehow supple, chest of the human. She let out a long choked sigh as she relaxed her light frame against the steadfast form of Shepard's body, resting one hand against the human's thigh and the other snaking around the Spectre's back and settling against her hip. Shepard's reached up her hands and tenderly laid them against the asari's head, the pad of her thumb stroking slow circles against Liara's temple, her cheek laying against the top of the velvet crest.

Liara crying had slowed somewhat, her harsh sobs turning into gasping breaths that were choked within her tight throat.

She closed her eyes again, and her tears slipped down and landed quietly on Shepard's grey-blue fatigues, each spot darkening in hue and standing out in sharp contrast with the silver and black clips of the uniform.

Her pain was still gnawing at her heart, she doubted very much that it would ever go away, and she knew that it shouldn't, but she did not have to let her sorrow rule her days. Her mother was gone, at least physically, but so long as she remembered who Benezia was, and the ideals she held dear, then some part of her would always exist through Liara. Grief was nothing shameful, and if the actions of Shepard were any indication, she wasn't alone in the galaxy, and she didn't have to bear her pain in shadow.

The ache in her heart had eased away somewhat, and the tight knot in her stomach was slowly unwinding itself. The headache that had started to grip her brain was soothed by Shepard's thumb before it could get a hold, and her breathing was beginning to slow.

It was only then that Liara noticed how heavy her eyelids were, and even though she had not taken a step outside the storage room, how tired and worn her muscles felt. Her breathing became slow and steady.

Shepard moved her cheek away from Liara's crest and the hand resting against the blue skinned temple slid down to lay on the asari's shoulder.

The two of them slowly, dazedly, untangled themselves from each other until they sat side by side, both sets of eyes staring at the other.

Shepard still gazed at the asari with sympathy, though there was another emotion that Liara had never really seen in the blue-green eyes:, hesitation, perhaps, or shyness…

"Feeling better?" Shepard said in a whisper, tilting her head slightly downward, strands of pale wheat colored hair sliding over her gaunt cheeks like water over rocks.

Liara swallowed. Her throat wasn't as tight as it had been just a short while ago, but it was still painfully raw. She drew in a slow breath. "Yes." She breathed out hoarsely, locking her eyes with Shepard's.

They seemed to be more open than they had ever been before, as though a steel curtain had been lifted revealing a bright core that pulsed with warmth.

"Good," Shepard's lips turned up at the corners, and she reached up with the back of her hand to caress Liara's temple, her long fingers sliding down the smooth curve of the asari's cheek

Liara let out another long breath of air, and, closing her eyes, leaned her head into Shepard's warm hand. "Shepard," she breathed out, her tired eyes still shut tight. "I am sorry, I gave you my word, and I have broken it."

Though she couldn't see Shepard through her closed eyes, she felt the taller woman shake her head.

Shepard's voice was the same light tone that she used whenever she was giving comfort, like when she had calmed the ex-batarian slave, Talitha. "The only thing I heard you promise was that you wouldn't let your grief get in the way of the mission

A small note of humor slipped into Shepard's tone. "Currently, the Normandy is traveling at FTL speeds towards the Citadel, and before I came in, you were sitting alone in the dark,"

Liara opened her eyes to stare blearily at Shepard, The Commander's lips held a sympathetic smile, the pale rose color of said lips almost glimmering in the dim light. "Your grief has interfered with nothing, and it is better for you to let the tears fall, lest they choke your heart."

Oddly enough, now that the moment of darkly pained memories had passed, Liara felt the tiniest spark of amusement flicker through her heart, fleeting as a shadow on a full-mooned night. "How is it Shepard," she began, her voice hoarse from her raw throat. "that at times I swear, I am speaking to a Matriarch many centuries my senior, and yet you are decades younger than I?"

Shepard's smile became somewhat rueful. "I've been around the block a couple of times, especially when it comes to misery, and loss."

Liara didn't really know how to respond to that. She trailed her bright eyes to the corner of the storage bay.

She felt strangely… empty. As if every other emotion had drained away with the sadness, leaving her exhausted and aching all over.

Lost in the blank places of her mind, she registered vaguely that the silence between Shepard and herself had grown somewhat awkward. The gentle caress of Shepard's hand had grown stiff, almost automatic, as the human, Liara guessed, tried to decide whether or not to continue the motions.

A few moments passed; then the soft hand was gone. Liara found herself missing the slight touch, the subtle body heat that eased the tension in her temple, though she was grateful of Shepard's continued presence beside her on the cot.

Liara closed her heavy eyes and sighed again, leaning down to rub her aching temples with her fingertips. "I hurt everywhere…" she muttered.

Shepard gave a morbid chuckle.

"That happens when you push your body to emotional exhaustion, and then push some more."

The numb clawing feeling slipped up from the pit of her stomach again, tangling at her heart in another wave of sorrow; wearily she pushed it back down again, leaning her head more heavily in her warm palms. She was so worn, another bout of sobbing would make her physically ill..

Shepard placed her hand back upon Liara's shoulder, her grip firm and reassuring. "Hey, we won't dock for another few hours; I think it'd be a good idea if you tried to get some rest."

Liara raised her head. to stare blearily up at the blonde, She blinked slowly a couple of times.

"Yes," she sighed, then more strongly. "Yes, if I am to be any use, I should follow your advice."

Shepard's grin lifted further, though the concern of her eyes never dissipated, and she gave Liara's shoulder a slight squeeze. "Then I'll leave you alone." Her hand fell, and she pushed herself up off the cot, brushing the wrinkles out of her blue fatigues as she rose.

Later, the asari would look back and still be uncertain what sparked her actions then, nor would she ever correctly guess where the last morsel of strength came from, but suddenly her right hand reached up and gripped onto Shepard's forearm with gentle desperation.

"No, please… don't…" Her action had been automatic, and now that she held onto her commander's arm, she had no idea what exactly she should say.

Shepard looked initially surprised at Liara's reaction; then as the tired asari slowly let her hand fall, her eyes downcast and forlorn, the Spectre's sympathetic expression returned.

"I… I do not wish to be left alone," Liara said quietly. "Would you…" She swallowed, and built up her courage enough to look Shepard in the eyes. "Could I ask you to stay with me? Just for a while longer…."

Shepard hooked her foot around the nearest storage crate, pulled it close to the cot, and flopped herself down upon it. Elbows on her knees, hands clasped together, and eyes on the asari maiden, the Spectre was the epitome of calm.

"Shepard…" Liara let out a long shuddering breath of relief. "Thank you."

The blonde nodded slightly. "I won't leave anyone who needs my help, and right now, that person is you."

Liara gave a strained smile, then laid herself down on the rumpled cot., She rested her head upon the rough pillow, grateful for the release of tension in her muscles.

Before long, she felt herself slowly sliding out of consciousness, the empty clawing feeling in her gut being slowly overruled by the foggy numbness of sleep.

But there was one last sentence that she needed to speak before drifting away.

"Shepard, thank you, for not leaving me alone." Her voice was barely above a murmur, but in the quietly confined space, Shepard heard every word.

Liara's even, slow breaths were then the only sound to be heard. The lithe frame of the alien beauty stretched out along the narrow cot, her youthfully round face peaceful in the dim light.

Shepard remained in her seat for a moment longer, eyes silently following each curve and line in the sleeping form. Then she leaned forward and carefully set her palm back against the smooth blue cheek.

"So long as you are on my ship, Liara T'soni, you will never be alone."

A little self-conscious, she leaned forward and kissed the sleeping asari on the top of the forehead, a feather light touch that conveyed a magnitude of affection.

Getting up, the commander walked to the end of the room, but turned at the doorway, and said.

"Sweet dreams, little wing."

The door whispered open, then hissed shut again. In the cot, Liara's lilac lips curved into a warm smile, just before she drifted into a deeper slumber.

Author's Notes: First off, I want to give a great big thank to my beta reader Atiaran for raking this short over the coals. In doing so, she burned off all the flabby useless bits, and made it into something much better. Much gratitude to her!

There are a couple of fanfics were Liara is just the weepiest person that has ever existed, she seemed to cry at the slightest things, even though she never actually mourns her mother in the game. I perceive Liara as being a very strong soul, very steadfast in her beliefs, and, although she can be naïve, she is very wise despite her 'youth'. Even so, I felt it was a little odd/cold that she was so unfazed after Noveria, and I wanted to explore a darker side of Liara that seemed more realistic.

A song that I feel works well with this fic is called 'Bring on the Wonder' by Susan Enan, I'd recommend typing in the title and artist name at youtube, and you will find several videos that use the song, either that or 'Mad World', from the Donnie Darko soundtrack.

Fatigues is the word for informal military uniforms worn every day and in battle, as distinct from formal uniforms, which I felt would describe the weird blue outfit you wear inside the Normandy.

Like it? Hate it? Loved it? Please tell me, all feedback is good feedback.