Reluctant

1. Respect

"Probably no greater honor can come to any man than the respect of his colleagues." – Cary Grant

He is the damn best helmsman in the Alliance fleet, and she is the best ship in the fleet. It is a perfect match. The Normandy is maybe just a prototype frigate, but in Joker's honest opinion, she is damn near perfect. It could use better seats maybe, but it seems a small price to pay for top of the line stealth system, and a drive core of that size. It is amazing, and he is the only pilot worthy of it.

Most of the grunts on board, have little idea of just how outstanding the Normandy actually is, but all seemed to have reservations about having a cripple handling it. He hates how people stare, when he moves around on his stupid crutches, and he makes a conscious effort not to pay them any attention. Captain Anderson has personally requested him, having previously served with him – he is not going to be made to feel inferior because of a case of glassbones.

Instead he rarely leaves his chair on the bridge, and then only at times where most of the crew are asleep. He is the best damn helmsman in the fleet, and he does not need them. He just needs to be alone.

But soon Nihlus the Spectre is dead, and Captain Anderson is taken down by backroom politics – and Commander Shepard is the new Spectre and the de-facto Captain. And she just will not leave him alone. She shows up after every mission and sometimes discusses the facts of the mission or the upcoming missions, as if his opinion matters, or just throws in a compliment on his skill or a general thanks for saving her rear-end from getting burned by molten sulfur. He always answers, and he is always rude. She still shows, and he thinks she is a sucker for punishment – but perhaps so is he.

The first time, she asks about him as a person, he knows she is just as prejudiced as everybody else. He burns with shame and defends his abilities with fervor. He cannot lose this ship, and he does not need his legs for this. It is not fair. But then she looks astounded and surprised and hurt. She hadn't known. He does not apologize, but finds himself avoiding looking her in the eyes, while he answers her questions, which are never rude – unlike himself – and never demeaning. Does it hurt, she asks and he almost lies. He should have lied, it is too personal. He looks at the screen in front of him, and hears himself say; mostly just my pride. She puts her hand on his shoulder, for just the fraction of a second, but then she leaves. They don't talk about it again, but what surprises Joker the most is that nothing has changed. She still allows him to fly, and asks his opinion as if she values his input.

He listens in on most missions and he wonders how she handles everyone. She is never rude, never too quick on the trigger and he sometimes think she forgives and forgets too quickly. It makes him nervous, and when communications drop, too frequently, his heart works overtime and every nerve in his brains seems on fire. But she is competent and handles herself.

When Ashley dies, he remarks but does not judge. Because experience has taught him, that she is competent and warm, and she does not need his pity or his condemning. He does not feel it anyway, and is not sure he can fake it. He will still go where she goes, and have her back even if she does not need it.

When they lock down the Normandy, he is angry. Not just for him, but surprisingly for her. She deserves better than this – she has proved herself better. So he sits stubbornly at his seat at the helm, and stares into the abyss, because he still cannot help her.

When Captain Anderson bails them out, he does his best work and gets them out of there so fast his bones buzz. And finally at Ilos, he understands that his trust is not one-sided, because all he has to do it tell her he can do the impossible, and she believes him. He makes sure her trust does not go unrewarded, and at the battle of the Citadel he, maybe for the first time, forgets his disease and he is finally flying and fighting – and he is winning.

He does not know till later, how close he came to killing her (though he could hardly have done it otherwise and it is not his fault, no matter what Garrus says), and he is momentarily shocked. She still grins when she sees him, and buys him a beer when the crew goes to celebrate. She seems more alive than ever, and is apparently very competent at drunken singing as well, much to the amusement of Councilor Anderson who swings by briefly.

He wishes it could last forever, and the memory burns painfully when the pod closes without her just a few months later, and he realizes she is dead and he killed them both. And it hurts more than his glassbones ever did.