ᴄᴘᴛ. ᴅᴇɪʀᴅʀᴇ ꜰᴀʀʀᴇʟʟ-ꜰʀᴀᴢɪᴇʀ

— There are a lot of things I would have changed, for both your sake and mine."

— I know there is nothing that I can say that justifies it, or that would make up for it either."

Deirdre lifted up the decanter and poured out another glass of liquor for herself, stopping once it was half full.

"If I could redo it all over again, I would. —

— She'd always said she'd never do anything to hurt her children if she could avoid doing so . . .

"I'm sorry that both of you had to deal with it alone. There's not a day that goes by where I regret the choices that I made that day. I've known for a very long time that I let both of you down. —

"It was not a decision that I had any say in making. I could not step away from my role, even if I wanted to walk away, I couldn't."

It did sting to hear the words, she knew it would hurt, but it cut deep to her core. —

"Your company is always welcome, General."

She twisted the cap off of the top of the bottle of liquor, pouring a couple fingers worth of the liquid into both glasses.

"How have you been?"

— "I believed that I needed to keep both of you safe, and keeping you there was my way of doing that. I tried to keep the war from reaching either one of you ."

— "I didn't want to chance the possibility of losing either one of you by having you leave a place I already knew was safe."

"That was why I made the decision to keep the two of you in school instead of being able to make it to the service."

—

— Deirdre's hand made a motion towards the decanter, fingers firmly curling around the glass. Though she didn't try to pour herself another glass, she still felt the temptation.

" I know it's hardly an excuse, but I didn't want to risk losing you or your brother after that."

—

— "I will admit that there are a lot of things that I have done that I am not proud of. At the time, I felt it was necessary to try and stay strong."

"I couldn't afford to let the loss of your father and sister affect me too much, because I had a duty to follow. I needed to be able to fight."

—

— "Alright, fine. I'll be as open and as honest as I can be with it. I owe you that much."

She lifted the glass up once more, finishing off the rest of the amber colored liquor. It left a sweet burn on the way down, the warmth rising in her chest once again.

—

There was a long pause of silence that hung in the air like fog. He was pleading with her, begging her to just open up.

After all the years she'd spent carrying the burden alone, even after the choices she made, he was still trying to reach back out to her.

—

— she was trying to gather her thoughts before responding.

"Gallagher, I know you mean well, but I don't think now is a good time to talk about this."

— A part of her wanted to be angry. A part of her wanted to push him away, order him to leave her be. It was easier that way.

Her lips pulled into a taut line as a heavy sigh of resignation slowly escaped. Deirdre didn't immediately meet her son's gaze, —

The entire mood shifted as soon as the ODST stood in front of her, and for a brief moment, she could feel something inside flare up at the confrontation.

It was something she'd been avoiding for some time, partly out of pride, partly because she wasn't ready to touch it yet.

—

— Deirdre wasn't expecting visitors, especially not at this hour, and though she considered turning them away . . . When she saw who the visitor was, she knew she couldn't say no.

"Come in. The door is open."

The sound of the knocking caught her attention, the Captain adjusting her posture to be sitting more upright in her chair.

She'd lift her glass to her lips, taking a sip of the liquor before placing it back down into the desk, half empty now.

—

— At least with every glass of liquor that she poured, it offered a burning warmth in her chest as it went down. It was better than feeling suffocated under the weight of her regrets.

— and that it didn't matter how hard she fought, it would never bring them back.

Each and every year marked just how long it'd been, since she never said goodbye.

Knowing she would never hear their voices, their laughter, she would never see the faces of those she'd loved so dearly again.

—

— too many memories and emotions she'd been feeling creep up on her, especially as the winter festivities were beginning to rear its head.

It wasn't that she disliked the holidays, but it reminded her of what she'd lost years ago. It was a reminder of what could never be, —

Starter for @hellishluck.bsky.social

It was getting late in the evening, but Deirdre hadn't retired for the evening yet. She sat at her desk, a decanter and a glass on whiskey sitting down beside her.

There was too much that she'd had on her mind, —

"Irish Whiskey, aged around twelve years. It's a new one, I haven't had this one yet, surprisingly enough."

A soft trace of a smile made itself known on her features as she reached for another glass.

"Would you care to join me for a glass or two?"

"Unofficially, she is. She did assume the role herself after all."

Deirdre took another sip from her coffee mug, longer this time. Upon lowering it, she would nod towards the Alpha.

"Whether or not it becomes official is entirely up to my discretion. For your sake, I hope I don't have to."

She'd raise a brow at him in response to his question, lowering the mug as the corners of her mouth pulled into a taut line.

"Do I need to assign you a chaperone in order to ensure there's order on my ship?"

Her eyes narrowed slightly, honing in on Emile like he were a target.

"I've noticed she keeps you from getting into too much trouble. I wouldn't take that for granted."

Deirdre lifted the rim of her mug to her lips, taking a brief sip of black liquid.

"I may be Catholic, but this isn't a confessional, Two-Three-Nine. I believe you and your own are still on leave."

It almost reminded her of catching a misbehaving child, it was charming, really.

"At ease, Spartan."

Though her headache was creeping into the back of her eye sockets, she managed a small semblance of a smile.

"I'm glad to hear it was an eventful evening, as it should be for you all."

Her attention moved towards him as he was passing by, taking note of his demeanor.

"Good morning, Spartan. I trust you had a good evening last night?"

She's awake, and with a headache.

Deirdre is holding onto her coffee mug with a vice grip.

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