Author: Seerysly
Flu
Garrus was panicking. "Panic" wasn't a word that was a part of his vocalulary, either. So when his hands started to shake and his heart started pounding, he wasn't sure what exactly what was wrong. It wasn't everyday that he found Shepard lying facedown on the bathroom floor in her cabin, her cheek pressed against the freezing tile. It was even rarer for her to shake something like that off as nothing. He'd known Shepard as long as any of the crew and when it came to her health, she was in and out of the med bay, requesting physicals, checkups, and even having Dr. Chakwas look at her teeth. So when he knocked on her bathroom door and all she replied with was a groan, his hands started to shake. When he pulled her up off the floor, insisting she go to the med bay and she just waved him away, his heart started to pound. Garrus was panicking.
"It's just a cold," she muttered, her voice nasally and muffled, though there was nothing covering her mouth. She sniffed loudly and waved his hands off her, clutching unsteadily to the bathroom sink. Garrus didn't know what she meant by "cold". Upon placing a hand on her skin, she had actually felt hot. Turian hot, not the luke warm feel of her skin that he was so accustomed to. She was practically radiating heat.
"Shepard, I'm no expert, but I think your sick," he said dubiously, placing a steadying hand on her elbow as she pushed away from the sink, wobbling slightly. She waved him away again.
"I know I'm sick. I have a cold," she said. Again with the "cold". How could she be feeling cold when her skin felt as though it were about to burst into flame. He sighed.
"Let's get you to Dr. Chakwas," he said. Shepard shook her head jerkily, brushing past him and grabbing the doorframe for support.
"It's just a cold, Garrus," she replied, emphasizing each word. "I'm fine."
"No Shepard, you're burning up, not cold," he said, catching her arm again as she rocked unsteadily. She laughed, a nasal, slurred sound so unlike her usual jingling chuckle.
"A cold, Garrus. Not cold," she explained vaguely. He stared at her in disbelief. She gave an exaggerated sigh of frustration. "You know, like a cough and some sniffles?" That still didn't clear anything up in his mind. Turians almost never got sick. They're immune systems were harder to puncture reinforced steel. He knew next to nothing about human diseases, just that humans got sick a lot. Yet he knew he wasn't going to get anywhere with her, not while she was in this semi-asleep condition, so he didn't push for details.
"Oh, right," he said understandingly. She smiled vaguely. One hand still on her arm, he pulled her toward her bed. "Well at least lay down for a bit," he said, pulling back the covers on her bed. She shuddered as her mouth stretched wide in a huge yawn and nodded. With no help, she scrambled onto her mattress and pulled the covers up over her shoulder. Curling up in a ball, she was asleep in minutes.
Garrus stood by her bedside, running over what had happened in his brain. A "cold" was some sort of human sickness, he decided. Obviously it wasn't too dangerous if Shepard wasn't concerned. Yet his hands were still shaking. He watched her sleep, her shoulders rising and falling slowly. Gently, he bent down and placed a hand on her forehead. Again, she was burning up. He sighed and turned to the door. It was so unlike Shepard to brush off a virus of any kind, and even stranger for her to behave like a child. He pressed the button for the crew deck on the elevator. It gave a little shudder before shooting downwards. He made up his mind; he was going to see Dr. Chakwas.
"She says she has a cold?"
"Yes, but she's burning up."
Dr. Chakwas shook her head, a smile on her lips.
"A cold happens when human sinuses or respiratory system become inflamed. It's usually caused by nothing more than some kind of irritant rather than an actual virus. But if her temperature feels hot, she most likely has the flu," she explained. Garrus blinked blankly at her. She smiled again. "The influenza is nothing serious, especially for a young adult. Bring her down here and I'll give her some medication."
Garrus shook his head. "I tried to get her down here. She refused."
"Sounds like our commander. The minute she really is sick, the gains that tenacious independence," she shook her head again. "I'll give you the medication to take up to her then."
Dr. Chakwas stood and strode over to her supply cabinet. Carefully, she picked up a small pill bottle and tossed it across the room to him. He caught it easily.
"Good catch," she smiled. "Have her take two of those. They're a low dosage fever reducer, so she'll need to take two more in about four hours."
"Thank you, doctor," Garrus said and turned to leave.
"Oh, Garrus. Just a warning," she called after him. He stopped walking and turned back to her. "Those will only reduce her fever. It won't prevent vomiting."
Garrus swallowed hard. "Vomiting?" he asked hesitantly. Dr. Chakwas returned to her seat and swiveled around to her computer.
"It's best to let the infection work itself out of her system. She'll be up and about in two or three days. If she still refuses to come down to see me, make sure she stays hydrated, but don't push the food."
Garrus clutched the pill bottle in his hand. "Right," he said. He wasn't panicking any longer, Dr. Chakwas had quelled that feeling. Now he was feeling especially nervous. He walked slowly around the mess, dawdling slightly before stepping onto the elevator. He pressed the button to Shepard's cabin, wondering what the doctor had meant by "vomiting".
Shepard was exactly where she had been when he'd left, curled up under her sheets. But now she was shivering. Violent shudders wracked her body. She was cold now, Garrus realized. He placed a hand on her cheek. She was clammy with sweat, but still her temperature was rising. He didn't know what to do. Should he grab more blankets for her? That would keep her from shivering, but probably cause her to get even hotter. Or should he just leave her like she was, cold but not trapping the heat in? It took him a moment to remember the pill bottle still gripped in his hand. Slowly, he lowered himself down on the edge of her bed, reached out and gave her a slight shake on the shoulder. Normally, she would have jolted awake, but she instead uncurled herself laboriously, stretching out her arms and legs almost painfully. With a groan, she opened her eyes.
"Hey," she murmured, attempting to stretch, but giving up. Her muscles shook with exhaustion.
"Hey. How're you feeling?" he asked, brushing strands of hair off of her clammy forehead. She smiled slightly.
"M'okay," she mumbled. With effort, she struggled to sit. Garrus placed a hand at her back, helping her sit. She continued to give him that vague smile. Suddenly, what little color remained in her cheeks drained to be replaced with a green tint. Her pupils dilated, and with more agility and grace than she'd exhibited in the past hour, she was on her feet, running at a full sprint to the bathroom. The bathroom door slammed shut behind her. Garrus remained frozen by her bed, completely taken aback. What had he done?
From inside the bathroom, Shepard made a pained heaving noise, followed by a splattering noise. She continued heaving and Garrus found that same panic growing in his chest. He crossed the room to the closed door and tapped on it with his knuckles. The only reply was a sickening coughing.
"Shepard? Are you all right?" he asked nervously, sliding the door open. She was hunched over the toilet bowl, her hair stuck to her face, her cheek on the toilet seat. She was breathing heavily, her eyes fluttering open.
"I'm good," she breathed. She reached up and felt around for the toilet lever and flushed, not even moving. The turian shuffled his feet awkwardly. "Want to get me some water?" she croaked, pulling herself to her feet. She wobbled slightly before falling forward into Garrus's arms. He caught her a little less than gracefully, his arms wrapping around her. Carefully, he walked her back to her bed. She collapsed on her mattress on her back, swinging an arm over her eyes. Garrus turned and picked up a glass from the coffee table. He walked back to the bathroom, filled the glass and returned. Placing the glass carefully on the bedside table, he poured two little white pills into his hand. Then, he lifted her arm from her face. She glared grumpily at him.
"Dr. Chakwas gave me these. You get two," he said, holding them out to her. She snatched them, popped them into her mouth, then took a swig of water. She laid back against her pillows with a sigh. Her eyes fluttered closed. He lowered himself on her bedside.
"Garrus?" she asked softly, her fingers feeling around for his. He grasped her hand in his own, softly stroking the back of her hand with his thumb.
"Yes, Shepard?" he replied, just as quietly. Her skin was covered with a thin sheen of sweat. He gazed at her face, her eyelids fluttering between half open and closed. As he waited for her answer, a devious smile crossed her face so swiftly, he was sure it had been a trick of the light.
"I'm sick," she stated.
"I know," he said, confused. He wasn't sure where this was going, but he wasn't sure he liked it. Leave it to Shepard to make her misery his. Not that he wasn't willing to accept it, but he had come to expect it.
"So will you get me some soup?" she asked.
"Of course," he replied, standing. He placed a hand on her forehead again. Whatever those pill were, they were working quickly. She was already cooler than she had been. With a last glance at her, he left the room, headed for the mess.
Two days. Two whole days of running back in forth from one end of the ship to the other. He was tired and in bad humor, but there was no way he was going to ignore Shepard. She was still sick, though her fever had subsided, she was still nauseous, or so she said. Sometimes he felt that she was making it up so he would get her something else that she felt she needed. Not that he really blamed her. Shepard needed time to enjoy herself, even if it was making him a little crazy.
He was carrying his third batch of chicken soup - he still wasn't sure what a chicken was - in four hours towards the elevator to deliver it to Shepard when the comm overhead crackled. He slowed slightly, wondering what announcement was so important that it warranted the members on the crew deck to hear. It was Joker whose voice came through overhead.
"Garrus, you there?" he asked, his tone hinting that Garrus was about to become the butt of Joker's amusement. "EDI says you've been to the commander's cabin five times now. Is the commander really still sick, or are turians just really fast?" he snickered. Garrus closed his eyes, willing himself not to take the bait. Joker was silent for all of three seconds. "So turians are quick then?" he teased. Garrus couldn't contain his rebuttal any longer.
"Say what you will about my sex life, Joker. At least I'm not banging a robot," he replied, glaring at the small speaker above him.
"Oh ouch. But in all seriousness, I need to ask you a question," Joker replied, though his voice still had that annoying edge to it. Garrus sighed.
"Go ahead."
"I knew that the commander can talk anyone into anything, but how did she talk you into becoming her bitch?" he chortled. Garrus made a sound that was halfway between a growl and groan. He slammed the bowl of soup on the table and made beeline for the elevator. He jammed his finger on the button for the CIC.
If Joker thought brittle bones were bad, he had a whole other thing coming. Garrus was looking forward to seeing how Joker enjoyed dust for bones instead.
A/N: I caught a cold and my first thought was what would happen if…? and then this fic happened. Just a quick little drabble, hopefully it was cute and funny. I'm setting this up as a collection, so not everything will be exclusively Shakarian, but it will be more like a collection of "what ifs" and "this is how I imagined it". Thanks for reading!
