Try to Kill it all Away 6/?
anonymous
September 18 2015, 07:02:47 UTC
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She woke up to feel something she hadn’t felt in almost nine months. Sobriety. And pain. Quite a bit of pain.
She was strapped to a bed, drips running all over her body. A med-program slowly fed hydration and nutrients back into her body.
And Shepard, blonde curls tussled and eyes red, gave her a weak smile as she looked at him. Her fingers found his…and she gave him a tiny smile in return.
Recovery was slow, painful, humiliating. A slow cocktail of drugs to wean her off the sand. Mind-meld therapy with an extremely expensive asari shrink to help reconcile the pain and degradation she had subjected herself to.
Cerberus arranged for her to have an apartment on the Citadel. It was good. Comfortable, quiet. Shepard visited as often as he could. Sarah, Abby and Lynn came to visit. She hit the gym and the range, knowing each day of treatment was driving Shepard deeper into debt with Cerberus.
The lines of worry in Shepard’s face every time he came to see her made her hate herself just a little bit more. He had a mission to complete. She was distracting him.
She sobbed her guilt into his shoulder one night after a particularly bad flashback in therapy.
He just smiled. “I know you care, Ash. But I’m doing this for you. I want you to get better.”
She did get better. Slowly. Nearly too slowly. Colour returned to her cheeks, lustre returned to her hair. She re-learned her old skills with renewed determination. And when she heard that Shepard had survived the attack through the Omega-4 Relay, she got down on her knees and gave thanks to God for the first time in three years.
Abby had given her one of her good dresses. She wore it out to dinner with Shepard. They celebrated with a bottle of non-alcoholic champagne in his cabin and made love under the stars.
She could have cried at the simple look of love in his eyes. She felt wanted, valued, adored. The sex was good…but somehow unsatisfying.
When she mentioned it to her shrink the asari smiled comfortingly.
“It’s an expected side effect. Another two or three months of therapy should set it right.”
She never got that last three months. She got two weeks before the Reapers smashed into Earth. Figuring that therapy wouldn’t matter if she was dead, Ashley checked herself out of her apartment and reported to the Normandy. She fought for two weeks as a private citizen, then the Alliance restored her commission.
In week four of the war she broke her sobriety. She hadn’t meant to. They’d won a victory, damnit, and Vega had just the thing to celebrate with. How often did a whole species regain their homeworld?
She got drunk with Shepard and Vega, then she talked them in to a ménage a trois. To be more accurate she noisily made out with Shepard, teased Vega with her bare foot, whispered into Shepard’s ear until he was bursting out of his pants, then let them fuck her in between them.
She didn’t want to admit it, but the old drunken thrill from fucking both of them was almost better than the sex itself.
She promises herself it's a one off thing. But before she knows it they've been soundly thrashed on Thessia and she's convincing Shepard to bring Liara into their bed before the final attack on Cerberus, then again during the night before Earth. And when Shepard is lying in his hospital bed...it is Liara she turns to for comfort.
Shepard is surprisingly acceptive when Liara gives birth to a little brown eyed asari, cheerfully believing little Madeleine is a result of their tryst en route to Earth. For all Ashley knows that could be true, so she keeps her mouth shut.
Try to Kill it all Away 7/7
anonymous
September 18 2015, 07:10:21 UTC
She'd given back in to alcohol and she had surrendered herself to lust, but Ashley was not so weak as to return to the sand. Aversion and compulsion therapy was considered poor practice by asari shrinks, but they would do it anyway if you paid them enough.
The reason it wasn't a preferred method of treatment was mostly due to the occasional lapses in the brain when the addiction would return, the compulsion therapy only kicking in only after the craving was satisfied.
That equated to one sand-trip per six or seven months to keep herself satisfied. Ashley was happy with that. It worked nicely into her new routine.
She struggled against it, she truly did. But despite the scars she could not forget the thrill of meeting an unknown client, the high of having her body worshipped by a complete stranger, someone she could enjoy to the fullest and not have to go home with.
She loved Shepard. And Shepard loved her. But her body needed more than he could give, especially now. Once every six months. That's all she needed to sate her lingering appetites. One drunken, drug fuelled fling every six months.
She told herself that would be all. That she could keep herself to that strict pattern. She could...she had to...and she would come right back to Shepard in the morning.
She woke up to feel something she hadn’t felt in almost nine months. Sobriety. And pain. Quite a bit of pain.
She was strapped to a bed, drips running all over her body. A med-program slowly fed hydration and nutrients back into her body.
And Shepard, blonde curls tussled and eyes red, gave her a weak smile as she looked at him. Her fingers found his…and she gave him a tiny smile in return.
Recovery was slow, painful, humiliating. A slow cocktail of drugs to wean her off the sand. Mind-meld therapy with an extremely expensive asari shrink to help reconcile the pain and degradation she had subjected herself to.
Cerberus arranged for her to have an apartment on the Citadel. It was good. Comfortable, quiet. Shepard visited as often as he could. Sarah, Abby and Lynn came to visit. She hit the gym and the range, knowing each day of treatment was driving Shepard deeper into debt with Cerberus.
The lines of worry in Shepard’s face every time he came to see her made her hate herself just a little bit more. He had a mission to complete. She was distracting him.
She sobbed her guilt into his shoulder one night after a particularly bad flashback in therapy.
He just smiled. “I know you care, Ash. But I’m doing this for you. I want you to get better.”
She did get better. Slowly. Nearly too slowly. Colour returned to her cheeks, lustre returned to her hair. She re-learned her old skills with renewed determination. And when she heard that Shepard had survived the attack through the Omega-4 Relay, she got down on her knees and gave thanks to God for the first time in three years.
Abby had given her one of her good dresses. She wore it out to dinner with Shepard. They celebrated with a bottle of non-alcoholic champagne in his cabin and made love under the stars.
She could have cried at the simple look of love in his eyes. She felt wanted, valued, adored. The sex was good…but somehow unsatisfying.
When she mentioned it to her shrink the asari smiled comfortingly.
“It’s an expected side effect. Another two or three months of therapy should set it right.”
She never got that last three months. She got two weeks before the Reapers smashed into Earth. Figuring that therapy wouldn’t matter if she was dead, Ashley checked herself out of her apartment and reported to the Normandy. She fought for two weeks as a private citizen, then the Alliance restored her commission.
In week four of the war she broke her sobriety. She hadn’t meant to. They’d won a victory, damnit, and Vega had just the thing to celebrate with. How often did a whole species regain their homeworld?
She got drunk with Shepard and Vega, then she talked them in to a ménage a trois. To be more accurate she noisily made out with Shepard, teased Vega with her bare foot, whispered into Shepard’s ear until he was bursting out of his pants, then let them fuck her in between them.
She didn’t want to admit it, but the old drunken thrill from fucking both of them was almost better than the sex itself.
She promises herself it's a one off thing. But before she knows it they've been soundly thrashed on Thessia and she's convincing Shepard to bring Liara into their bed before the final attack on Cerberus, then again during the night before Earth. And when Shepard is lying in his hospital bed...it is Liara she turns to for comfort.
Shepard is surprisingly acceptive when Liara gives birth to a little brown eyed asari, cheerfully believing little Madeleine is a result of their tryst en route to Earth. For all Ashley knows that could be true, so she keeps her mouth shut.
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The reason it wasn't a preferred method of treatment was mostly due to the occasional lapses in the brain when the addiction would return, the compulsion therapy only kicking in only after the craving was satisfied.
That equated to one sand-trip per six or seven months to keep herself satisfied. Ashley was happy with that. It worked nicely into her new routine.
She struggled against it, she truly did. But despite the scars she could not forget the thrill of meeting an unknown client, the high of having her body worshipped by a complete stranger, someone she could enjoy to the fullest and not have to go home with.
She loved Shepard. And Shepard loved her. But her body needed more than he could give, especially now. Once every six months. That's all she needed to sate her lingering appetites. One drunken, drug fuelled fling every six months.
She told herself that would be all. That she could keep herself to that strict pattern. She could...she had to...and she would come right back to Shepard in the morning.
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