Standard Disclaimers: I do not own Mass Effect 1 or 2 or any of its characters
Memories that Don't Fade
His hands were spattered with blood and vomit. The edge of his jacket was soaking in it but he'd been quick enough to keep her from choking or throwing up all over herself in the spasming.
He hadn't caught her before she fell but he'd at least done that much.
"We need to get her out of here," Garrus voice was like a slap, hard and fast. Authority hardened by fear. Fear and anger. They hadn't drawn a crowd yet but there were spectators enough. Eager to watch. Eager to take advantage. The driving beat of the club music was unrelenting. Like a heartbeat racing too fast. Like a metronome gone mad. Yes. Leave.
"Shepard," Thane Krios began, speaking to the woman as he moved to hoist her limp form into his arms. Like a rag doll. Like Kolyat carried up to bed. He stood easily enough, not yet registering the burden that her armor might eventually be come. He just repeated her name. "Shepard."
Garrus had drawn his rifle the moment she had fallen, glaring at the rest of the club as if they were all responsible. Twitching. Ready to fire. No one was suicidal tonight. No one got in the battle-scarred turian's way as he took point in getting them out. Getting them to a door. The alley.
Trembling. Trembling running up her arms and now her whole body was shaking. Thane could see a sliver of white beneath her eye-lids; eyes rolled up in the back of her head. The lighting wasn't blue. Red was the flush of life, at least, but blue wouldn't have been. The slack parting of her lips, that crescent of white… she already looked too much like she was gone.
The assassin's throat inflated, flaring up in agitation but his voice remained low, "Garrus. Med pack. Now."
"We should get back to the ship!"
Thane was already kneeling, laying her down. Reluctantly, for he didn't want to. The ground was cold. He didn't want to let her go, didn't want to give her up to it. Better if she remained… no. She was convulsing again. He compromised; supporting her as her stomach rebelled, bringing up more blood and bile.
Garrus freed one hand, using the other to keep his gun trained on the vagrants that shared the alley with them. At any other time, he wouldn't have given them a second thought. But Shepard was down and he'd kill the whole damn station before he'd let anyone get near enough to finish the job.
He wouldn't fail her.
He threw the Med Pack at Thane who caught it.
Thane didn't fumble. He knew something of human anatomy. It helped when he was called to kill them. He knew something of poison. He'd been very well instructed. It had been so long ago, however, and it never had been his preferred method…
"Shepard," he began again and it was much easier to find a vein, even working around armor, than it was to find what he wanted to say. He wanted to say something, he had to say something, but for now it was just, "Shepard."
"…just collapsed. No wounds that I can see. She's throwing up blood, shaking…" Garrus' voice was tight, clipped.
The accented instructions that came back through the comm. were just as quick, but calming. Chakwas. "There's a bottle of something called Threnadrine in a standard Medical Kit. Give her that, plus Lybuteral. Green pack. I'll be there as soon as I can."
Thane nodded. He'd already given the Threnadine. He reached for the neatly marked second pack, leaning to do so. His jacket remained anchored in place. Shepard had her hand wrapped in it, knuckles white, fabric pulled in spasmodic little jerks. "I'm still here," he reassured her, unconscious though she remained, "I'm not going anywhere."
"And if you can get some Asari Triton Tonic, get it!" the doctor added. "Make her drink it."
Garrus was ordering one of the humans, standing well and clear, to go back into the club. Get the Tonic. Bring it back still sealed. Now.
Heels dancing against metal. The last flares of a nervous system dying?
No.
No.
"No," Thane's voice was hard. He shifted, pulling her back up against him. He brushed hair away from her face, meaning to be gentle, but his fingers were unsteady and it wasn't gentleness he was feeling. It was anger, a cold rush that hollowed him out and left him wanting to break something. "Arashu, goddess of protection…" the prayer died there. He did not wish to entreat. He wished to demand.
No.
Don't.
Don't let this happen.
And, buried in there, a tiny voice howling, "Not again."
"Sihas shouldn't die like this…" he hadn't told her about that whim. Naming her that in his mind. It was still just a small thing. A thread. Too small to share yet. Sihas shouldn't but sometimes they did. Sometimes they died with holes blown in their chests, having just managed to hide their sons away before the enemies of their husbands came for them.
Solipsism or this moment. It was the same. Muscle's tightened and he found it difficult to breathe around it. "Siha," it was a gasp, "Shepard," he ran a thumb along her cheek, "Please…"
"Here," the human was offering the tonic to Garrus with a mixture of what seemed to be genuine concern for the fallen woman and real fear that the turian might hurt him.
"Thane, move her head. Like that, right."
She didn't drink initially and the tonic just flowed over her lips. Then, something kicked in and she swallowed, spluttered. She struggled, weakly at first. She'd have the mellow spice scent of the sticky drink in her hair now as well for the amount they spilled. Her eyes were moving behind her lids again.
"Do… do you want me to go get another?" the human called tentatively.
"…drownin' me…" Shepard protested and her hand smacked out blindly. It caught Garrus' arm, a slap that thunked as she drew in an unsteady breath. A deep unsteady breath.
Thane's hands balled up into fists. He said nothing, the flutters of his throat the only motion as he watched her open up her eyes.
When Shepard, moments later, pulled herself from his arms he didn't protest. When she stubbornly insisted that she be allowed to get to her feet, he simply echoed her and stood as well. She was confused, finding her focus only as the human told her about Forvan, the bartender who seemed to make it a habit of poisoning, killing humans.
It might have been the fact that, apparently, Forvan had already racked up a considerable death toll that made the Commander's eyes go flat and cold. It might have even been the unpleasant realization that she had been moments away from dying, dying on a station because of some idiot's blind prejudice.
It was Garrus that told her that she should wait to confront the man. Chakwas rushing up only moments later who seconded it, and then pulled rank to order it. Shepard relented, turning to head back to the ship with the Doctor on one side, Garrus on the other. Guarded. Protected.
Thane walked behind her to make sure of it.
To keep her in sight the entire time.
Later, when she felt better, when the doctor could verify that all danger was past…
…when he could study the lines of her face, the shade of the eyes that were not hidden from him and the pallor of her skin, healthy…
...when he could no longer smell, feel, and see her dying in front of him, helpless to do anything but watch…
Then he would tell her about Irikah.
Then he would tell her about the name siha. What it meant in general.
What it meant to him.
But only then.
... it had to be later.
Author's Notes:
I made up the med names from what sounded right. If those are names of actual meds that do things (my memory could be bringing them up) holler at me! The timing on this is after the mission to save Kolyat, after Samara's mission (and incidentally my story Protective Instincts) but before the infamous 'Siha' talk
Oh – and I mention it only because it is the first time I've written anything (the ENTIRETY of it) to a single song wrapped on loop on my iPod. That was Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers: Evenstar