You were always the reluctant hero. No matter what kind of challenge, you always prevailed, but there was always a price you paid. For with every life you took, you felt the weighted pain of their deaths upon your shoulders. It was something I never could imagine feeling. I had always felt that I was never responsible for the deaths of my targets, but you… you sympathized with every death, every poor soul that had been lost to the vial filth of the world… it was something I could never hope to understand.
It was obvious to anyone who knew you well enough that the roll you took was forced upon you...it was a roll that you would gladly give up if you could. But duty became your cage, trapping you in a life of death, violence, and despair… and never once would a complaint fall from your lips. So for years, you carried this heavy cage with you, performing terrible deed after deed, with only the word of someone you never met to trust that it was the right choice, with only the thought of the lives you’d save to keep you going. That was how it always was, so long as there was a single life to save, you’d fight, despite how much you hated it.
You’ve always hated death, since the first day I’ve meet you, that much was clear… and who could blame you. Your home… your friends and family… slaughtered by batarian slavers, then forced to kill yourself in the Blitz…killing thousands of batarians just to stay alive… now this. The geth, Collectors, the Reapers… this wasn’t the life you wanted. All you wanted was to live a life far away from this kind of horror.
But despite all that, you still fight with all your body and soul, fighting to assure that no one else would have to see,.to experience all the pain, suffering, and death you’ve been forced to be a part of. Despite of all the pain you’d have to go through, despite all the horrible things you’d have to see. Despite all the people that would have to die, and that you’d have to kill, in the name of peace.
But you’re still only human; you still cried when Liara’s mother Benezia died until your (e/c) eyes turned red and puffy, you still stare up at Ashley’s name on the memorial wall, apologies for abandoning her falling from your lips when you think you’re all alone, you still have nightmares that shake you to the core like everyone else. But you still march on, you still try to live a happy life… you can still fall in love, even with a person like me.
Those times we shared, those were the times when I felt as if you could truly be at peace, as I held your slender, sleeping form in my arms, running my fingers through your soft (h/l) (h/c) hair, watching your content sleeping face. I wished that we could just stay like that for the rest of our lives… for your sake and for mine.
You were the one reluctant hero out of millions of others who wouldn’t bat an eye at the sight of death. You are the one that people draw their strength and courage from, the one that stands above all the rest.
But now, you’re free; you never have to kill again, to worry again, to suffer again. So I shall walk on, continuing the legacy you had left behind. And despite the memories of you, what our lives would be like after this was all over, are painful, they’ll give me strenght to fight on… To be a reluctant hero like you.