Mari: Mother or Mom
Pari: Father or Dad
Torin: A male turian of the age of majority.
"They're all jerks! I'm never going back to school."
Admiral Jane Shepard looked up from her computer at her eldest son's declaration, the front door slamming to punctuate David's words. She sighed, the anger and hurt rolling through his dual-toned voice breaking her heart a little. Holding out an arm, she beckoned him over. "Come here, you."
He flung his backpack onto the couch and stalked over, his mandibles flicking with obvious distress. Even though he allowed her to draw him into a hug, he held himself rigid. Whatever the issue was, she saw that it wouldn't be cured by a simple cuddle.
Shepard pulled away. After pressing a kiss against his temple, she nudged him toward the seat next to hers. When he sat facing her, she laid a hand on his knee. "What happened?"
His brow plates scrunched down above his nose. "They all make fun of me." He kicked his ankle against the chair. "I hate them. They're all stupid and mean."
Shepard pressed her lips into a thin, empathetic smile. "Yeah, people sure are sometimes. But we just have to remember that their meanness isn't actually about us. When someone makes fun of something about us, it's because they're actually worried it's true about them."
David rolled his eyes. "They don't make fun of Miri. Everybody thinks she's so beautiful." He held out his arms. "Look at me. I'm a freak."
Shepard reached out and pressed her hand against his cheek. "Oh, my beautiful boy, of course you're not a freak." She smiled. "You're a miracle. One of the most precious creations to ever come into this tired old galaxy."
He grumbled and pulled away. "You have to say that, you're my mari." He got up and stomped over to the fridge. "I'm a levo turian with five talons and a waist that's too thick." After a few moments of sorting through, he slammed the door shut. "Fringe is too short, face is too human, but too turian." He turned a furious glare at her. "Why?"
"Why?" She shrugged. "Why what, sweetheart?"
He looked down to stare at his feet. "Why didn't you just let ELSI get rid of me before I was born?"
A tiny cry of pain escaped before Shepard could squash it. She blinked back the tears that rolled down her cheeks despite her effort to control them. "David Shepard-Vakarian … ." She sighed, then swiped at her face and held out her arms. "Come here."
He shook his head, not looking up. "No … Mari … ."
"Come here," she repeated, letting each word land, hard and solid.
Letting out a gallow's sigh, he sulked over, his boots squeaking little protests as he dragged his talons across the tile floor. When he reached her side, and she wrapped her arm around him, a low rumble rolled from his second larynx as he let her draw him in.
Shepard let the silence settle thick and heavy over them, just holding him tight as she considered her words. "I fought very hard for you," she said at last, "and no fight I've ever been in has given me anything as amazing and wonderful as you." She sat him on her thigh and reached up to brush his chin with her knuckle. "Yes, you look different from everyone else, and people are stupid and insecure, so they're going to try to make themselves feel better about their freakishness by picking on you. But that's what they're doing, David. It's all about them and their insecurities."
She wrapped both arms around him and kissed his cheek. "I fought for you. Your dad fought for you. Now, you have to decide how hard you're willing to fight for yourself. Are you going to listen to those scared people and let them tell you who and what to be? Are you going to become like them … get angry and scared, then turn that on someone else who's different?" She smiled when he pulled away and turned to stare at her, obviously surprised and disgusted by that idea. Giving him a wink that asked for his forbearance, she continued, "Or, are you going to be strong? Are you going to believe in that beautiful, talented body and accept it for what it is and can do? Are you going to make the most of the amazing mind inside that skull?"
She rested her head against his shoulder as she felt him relax a little. "You are in a unique position, my love. You know what it's like to be different, to be treated badly because of it." She straightened and leaned around to look into his eyes. "Are you the only one who gets picked on?"
He shook his head. "There's a batarian girl and a couple of others."
"Are they good kids? Smart and kind?" She tickled his side. "Like someone else I know?"
He let out a reluctant chuckle as he wriggled, then chuffed. "Mari, cut it out. You're such a child."
Shepard nodded. "Yeah, but I still think you're one of the most beautiful people I've ever known."
Again with the chuff. "Boys can't be beautiful."
Shepard sighed and shook her head. "Of course they can. Your pari amazes me with how beautiful he is almost every time I look at him. Beauty isn't about being male or female, it's not about what someone looks like, either. It's about what you see … who you see … when you look at them."
"What do you see when you look at me, Mari?" His voice softened and curled with subvocals.
She took her son's hand. "I see a young man who's strong and so amazingly intelligent that it boggles my mind. I see the little boy who used to bring me flowers when I'd had a bad day so that I'd feel better. I see a son who can kick his pari's butt in hand to hand, but still lets him win." She grinned when his head jerked around at that, then nodded. "Didn't think I knew, did you?"
She chuckled, but then it drifted into something softer. "I see a brother who will sit and play music with his big sister for hours because it's the only way she can talk to him." Leaning in, she kissed his cheek. "I see the handsome fellow who will one day catch a pair of eager eyes watching him, and know that the person behind them thinks he's the most beautiful thing they've ever seen. And I see the torin who'll one day hold his children on his lap and tell them how beautiful they are to him."
Her breath whistled a little as it squeezed past the hard lump in her throat. She counted all of her children as miracles, each one unique and astonishing in their own way, but David … . So much had gone wrong—they'd had to fight so hard to bring him into the world—that the revelation of him never ceased to stop her in her tracks. Blinking away the tiny sea pooled along her lower eyelids, clinging to her lashes, she looked into his eyes. The beauty of his spirit shone like the sun. "I see someone so absolutely amazing that I thank God every single minute that He brought him into my life. If He hadn't, I would have spent my entire life with a hole inside my heart that only he could fill."
David turned and wrapped his arms around her neck. "It still doesn't count. You're my mari. You have to think all that stuff." He let out a sigh so deep and long that it sounded as though it originated in his toes.
Shepard nodded. "Yeah, but it's still all true." She rocked him a little, like she had when he was small. "I think you'll make the best possible decision when it comes to dealing with those bullies, and I don't think it'll involve spending the rest of your life in the house."
"Perra'rok, the batarian girl, is nice," he said, "and the other kids are really mean to her." A sharp nod followed his words, and he straightened. "I could sit with her tomorrow, stick up for her. Maybe if I do, some others might too."
Shepard squeezed him tight, pride and love warming her from the inside. "That sounds like a much better plan than quitting school. And you know, no matter what, your pari and I are here for you. Whatever you need, you just come let us know, especially if you don't feel safe." She pulled away and took him by the shoulders. "Got that? It's never okay for someone to treat you badly, and really never okay for them to try to hurt you. If they do, you need to come to us."
His shoulders popped in a small, almost comical shrug. "You can't be there every second, and if I tell on them, it'll just get worse."
She had to give him that. "In the end, it does come down to your strength," she admitted. "How much faith you have in yourself. Your grandpa always told me that the words of fools were easy to ignore, but it sure doesn't feel like that some of the time." She released him, gently pushing him back onto his own chair so that she could meet his gaze. "If someone told you that Mercy had no worth because she looks a little different or because she can't talk or walk like the rest of us, would you believe it?"
Sudden tears gleamed in his eyes as he shook his head. "Of course not. Mercy's amazing. If anyone said anything like that about Mercy, I'd kick their butts." The tears vanished, and his mandibles fluttered. "That's not fair," he muttered, kicking one ankle off the chair leg.
Shepard grinned. "Maybe not, but there you go. In the end, if you let other people set your worth, you're going to spend the rest of your life unhappy. All you need to do is look into a mirror to know you're a miracle, David. You are the galaxy's most perfect, impossible person." She took his hands. "I know it's not easy being different and outside the popular group. Trust me, I spent a lot of years fighting that battle. But I know you've got it in you to ignore the noisy minority."
The keyboard in the other room played the short series of notes that Mercy used for David's name. Shepard nodded toward the arch. "Your sister's calling. Why don't you go talk to her about all this and see what she thinks?"
David stared into her eyes for a long moment, then nodded and stood. "Thanks, Mari." He nuzzled her cheek, then turned and picked up his backpack.
Watching him stride into the living room, Shepard let out a long breath and whispered, "Always, my beautiful boy. Always."