Oh, hey! Thank you so much for taking the time to read this! I hope you enjoy reading this story as I have enjoyed writing it!
But first, before you start reading, I would like to mention that I have given Shepard her default look as of ME3 in this tale. That is all.
Disclaimer: Mass Effect and its characters belong to EA and Bioware. This is purely fanmade, no profits are gained from this story.
CHAPTER ONE: I Am Sold
"Have you got a minute?" She had asked from behind him.
He stopped to turn and face her, "For you, Shepard, of course," Was his simple response.
He'd abandoned the console he had been typing against and turned his blue eyes to her, watching her move to take a seat on the cargo bin against the steel wall beside him. It was still so surreal to watch her, especially after spending the last two years believing she was dead. How could he be so sure that at this moment, he hadn't been gunned down on Omega and that his body wasn't rotting away in a pool of blue turian blood? He could still recall a rocket punching him in the face. Maybe that N7 insignia he had seen engraved onto one of the mercenary's armor had just been a hallucination? He had somehow ended up in the same heaven with Shepard. An ending he wouldn't have minded at all.
She hadn't said anything, wasn't really looking at him either, but he kept his eyes on her. His blue eyes followed her movement as she slouched over, elbows resting on her knees, her fingers intertwined with each other. There was a long period of silence between the two of them, the battery quietly purring against the stillness that settled over them. He silently questioned her, trying his best to read her body language and when that failed him, he finally opted to asking, "Shepard, is everything all right?"
He'd watched as her shoulders slumped, her head falling into a bow as she sighed, resembling much like a balloon being deflated. She hadn't given him a response. From his point of view, the commander looked defeated, tired. It was something he wasn't expecting from her, and it definitely caught him off guard. What was a turian to do? What was anyone to do when their commander came to them like this? He had hummed then, as if acknowledging that she just wanted to be near something-someone-familiar. And he didn't blame her, couldn't. He'd known what Cerberus had done to her, for her. An enemy they both aimed bullets at two years ago was now her ally, and the only people who believed her. She had been revived, brought back to life. Garrus had no objections and would pay Cerberus to do it again if it came down to it. Shepard didn't deserve to die like that.
That woman had been killed, brought back to life only to serve the people who she had just been previously fighting. And forced to wear their colors, their uniform. It was an insult. As if they were saying, 'Your own allies didn't even bother to look for your body, declared you dead and dismissed everything you just died for. Here's your old ship back, your life back, you just have to obey us now.' But she still wore that red stripe on her armor. A symbol of who she once was, who she hoped to still be. And that was something Cerberus could never take away from her. It meant too much.
"Do that again," she whispered suddenly, her quiet voice barely audible above the vibrations of the battery, but it rang like a bell to his ears.
"Shepard?" He voiced his concern, "Are you-"
"Please."
Please, she had whimpered, and it was a sound he definitely wouldn't have associated with her until then. It was such a broken sound, and he went from Officer Vakarian to Garrus Vakarian, the only remaining factor of a life she once lived. Garrus was at her side, crouching before her defeated form. Concern beginning to bubble in his chest when he caught that her eyes were closed, that her fingers were clenching tightly together, arms stiff as a board. He coughed off to the side, an attempt to gain her attention before he answered with, "Do what again, Shepard?"
"The noise. The hum. Please." She still hadn't turned up to look at him, but the cracking in her voice demanded that he did as asked. And not because she was his commander, but because she was his friend.
It... was an odd request, even he had to admit that, and it took him a minute to fully process it. But instead of questioning her, he had done what was asked of him. He had hummed once again, the noise itself sounding forced and awkward even to his ears. Was she making fun of him?
"You sound like a cat," she responded after a few short moments of silence, weak mirth in her voice, "It's relaxing to hear... reminds me of Earth." The woman took a deep breath, craning her neck to look up at the ceiling.
"Shepard," it was all he had to say, his question 'are you ok?' repeated in his tone.
Then she finally looked at him, her green eyes searching his blue. He still couldn't read her body language. Her eyes moved all over his face, lingering on his bandage that helped hide his facial scars. There was something that flickered behind her emerald orbs then. Her facial expression wasn't empty, it was full of ...something. Something he couldn't recognize. She scoffed softly, "Have you ever felt..." The words died on her tongue, and she looked away.
She was certainly acting weird. What was wrong?
Again silence had found its way around them. Garrus, at a loss of what to do. Shepard, unresponsive to his concern for her. But then she moved her head, placing her hands on the edge of the crate she sat upon, "Sorry, that was out of line." She scooted away from him and moved to stand. He followed her movement, standing up with her to show that she had his full attention. But her emerald orbs drifted to the floor, and the turian had even followed her downcast view, trying to see whatever it was that she saw there but couldn't. Then, as he stared at the random spot on the floor, she had taken a step away from him and toward the door, "Garrus," she said softly, "You're about the only thing that's keeping me... here." And just like that, she was gone.
Garrus hadn't slept that night. He remembered the restlessness her words had brought him then. It was the first time he saw his commander as a woman. In that shortly lived moment, that woman who had sighed defeated wasn't Commander Shepard. She was just Shepard. And it was he that she had sought out that night. Expecting what? Her walls were down, unguarded. She was truly vulnerable. No gun in her hand, no barrier up, no armor. Just a woman. A woman who was searching for comfort. It was comfort she was searching for that night, wasn't she? Why else go to him? Why else show that side of her to anyone?
And he even remembered how she acted as if nothing happened the following morning. Their next encounter she had been Commander Shepard again. The fearless leader taking on the collectors, building a team out of the most dangerous people in the universe. And she was their leader, what did that say about her? She was strong, impenetrable, determined. The complete opposite of what he saw in the room of the main battery. That mask she wore impressed the whole galaxy. She was unbeatable. Unbreakable. What would everyone think if they saw her broken like that? Lose faith? Enough people doubted her already, she didn't need those who actually believed her words to turn against the Normandy and its pursuit.
But it was too late for him, he had already seen what was beneath that demeanor. And if it weren't for that night, he wouldn't have known there was another side to her. He would have been one of billions who were deceived by that demeanor. Hypnotized by her strength that he had overlooked her weaknesses. Believed she didn't have any. Who was she when she was alone in her cabin? That moment of weakness he saw in her that night, was that her every night? Alone? Did she cry? What did she do? She had given him a glimpse, and now he had craved for more. He wanted to truly know Shepard, the woman who wore dog tags and laced up combat boots as well as the woman who came to him that night and whispered 'please' to him. He was her friend, after all. I'll be here if you need me, it's what he had always told her. Had she needed him that night?
And he wondered how to approach her, if he even should. He should, shouldn't he? After all, it was his business now. She made it his. But if she wasn't acknowledging the incident, would he be pushing boundaries by bringing it up? It had been three days since that night she had fallen in front of him. There were so many questions with no answers lingering in his head. During the mission with Sidonis, she had saved his soul from being eclipsed by the darkness that had swallowed him back on Omega. Had opened his eyes again, showed him that he had somehow blurred the lines between justice and revenge. She had said something to him that was... Well, it made a crack in his hardened shell. It woke him up. Kept him from pulling that trigger.
This isn't you, either.
He was blinded by revenge at the time, the words hadn't hit him until now. And a very noticeable frown took shape on his mouth. At the time of this realization, he was eating in the mess hall with Zaeed. The mercenary was talking about something Garrus had previously taken interest in until her words penetrated his train of thought. Anything Massani said after those four words echoed in his head had gone unheard.
Zaeed noticed the change in Garrus, he lifted an eyebrow before he tried to gain the turian's attention, "God damn, Garrus," He started, his raspy voice encased within whatever accent it was that he had, "You look like you forgot to take your damn tampon out."
"Tampon?" Garrus questioned suddenly, confusion obvious in his voice as he turned his attention from his fork to the mismatched pair of eyes that belonged to the fellow sniper. What was a tampon? Whatever it was, there were more important issues pressing for his attention. The turian shook his head, not caring for whatever Zaeed had to say after that. He looked around. Where was Shepard? Alone? Standing above six foot, the turian stood, "I gotta go," he muttered, grabbing his plate and placed it into the sink before he embarked on a journey to search for the missing commander.
He had asked Kasumi if she had seen the woman in question, the little thief knew just about everything that happened on the ship so he might as well start with her. That damn cloaking device she had obtained was definitely handy, even if it did make him paranoid and second guess every corner he passed by. But she had shook her head at his inquiries, saying something about seeing the commander last talking with Joker. He headed to the elevator then, and it pinged an arrival to the current floor just as he rounded the corner. He planned to board the cabin to take it up to the CIC, but his plans changed once he saw who was inside. And before she could step off, he had stalked her like prey and entered the cabin. She had almost bumped into him as he stepped in front of her, Shepard furrowed her brow at him. Garrus pressed the button that demanded the doors to close before she could protest, "Garrus, what are you-"
"That wasn't you either," he muttered to her sternly.
His blue eyes pierced her to the floor. He was unwavering in his stance, obviously wanting a response from her. But she couldn't bring herself to face it just yet, "What are you-"
"The night you came to me, Shepard. Begged me." He cut her off, leaning closer to her. It was an act unbecoming of a subordinate as he trapped her there, hands gripping onto the railing on either side of her to prevent any evasion she might try, but he didn't care. At this moment, titles were tossed onto the floor, irrelevant to what he needed to speak to her about. He was speaking to her as a friend. A very concerned friend.
She remained silent for awhile, shock obvious in her eyes. Shepard wasn't expecting him to be so aggressive toward her. Not to his commanding officer. She tried to side step him, but bumped into his arm. The touch of him had been unexpected, and she huffed her annoyance, but not because the feel was unpleasant. She stood as tall as she could, defiance in the squaring of her shoulders, "I did not beg," the woman defended as her arms crossed over her chest.
"You whimpered," he countered her, his voice straining as if he was trying not to raise his voice against her stubbornness. She could lead a team to face a barrage of bullets, but couldn't find the strength in her to face her feelings.
She sighed heavily, letting her head drop as her left hand went to rub her temples, forfeiting her plan to escape his interrogation with a frustrated growl, "Look. I was... I had been drinking with Dr. Chakwas."
"You were drunk?" He asked, un-moving.
She shook her head.
"Then what, Shepard?"
No answer.
"Shepard," He warned, his eyes narrowing at her.
The elevator pinged once again, someone on the outside was trying to get on and the mechanical doors began to open but the turian was quick to press the button again. She grew annoyed with his persistence, "I don't know," she said finally, trying to place authority in her voice without being loud enough for whoever it was waiting out there to hear.
Another heavy sigh fell from her lips, "What do you want me to say, Garrus? I wasn't drunk, but I wouldn't have done what I did if I hadn't been drinking with Dr. Chakwas."
That was still the commander talking, and his apparent frown darkened, "That's it, huh?" He asked, as if offended.
Again the elevator pinged, but he pressed the 'close door' button again, this time jamming his thumb harder against the command as his frustration with her grew.
"...What I said..." She said softly, her head lifting to meet his eyes, her hand falling away from her face, "It was the truth. I just... I just wish I hadn't said them out loud."
There. That was what he was looking for. His blue eyes watched her for a moment, as if trying to judge her sincerity. He must have been satisfied with whatever it was that he saw because he went and pressed a button on the console, ordering the elevator to descend. He moved from standing in front of her to beside her, looking at the elevator door. Well, now what? He hadn't thought much past this point. But he was a solider, and the only thing he knew how to do when thought escaped him, when time was too short for strategy, was to charge forward and pray that his instincts were trustworthy.
When the elevator pinged and the doors opened, Shepard could tell they were on the engineering deck of the Normandy. This deck served mostly for the engine of the ship, but there were a few spare personal quarters for those who were bothered when surrounded by too many people. Garrus being one of them. Her eyes questioned the turian, but he simply walked off the elevator and invited her to follow him with an inclination of his head. And she did just that. She let him lead her to his personal quarters, the one furthest away from the traffic of the deck.
He opened the door for her and she entered the room quietly, probably the only spot on the ship that she hadn't been before. It was empty, and white. Hardly any personal possessions aside from the obvious weapons and armor that were neatly piled away in a corner. There was nothing to personalize the area. It was all bare and empty. She remembered him having more possessions last time he was aboard, but refrained from asking him.
"...I wanted to talk," he started, scratching the back of his head, "Just, uh, not in public."
Shepard stood there awkwardly in his room, obviously unsure of what to do with herself in this situation. But her shoulders relaxed and she fell back to the one thing she knew like the back of her hand, "Is there something bothering you, Garrus?" Ah, there it was. Commander Shepard.
"Shepard," he started, "I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you."
And she knew exactly what he meant. The damn turian was referring to what she had said to him last that night, "I never wanted you to see that." Again, he watched as her emerald eyes drifted to the floor. He didn't know much about human body language, but he could tell she was feeling guilty. Ashamed? He wanted to know.
"To see what? " He asked.
"That... part of me." She clarified, her voice losing its strength for those four words to spill out before she was able to gather herself again. She cleared her throat, finally looking up to meet his eyes, "It's... unbecoming of anyone with my rank to show weakness in front of subordinates. It brings doubt." The authority was back in her tone, in her posture as her back straightened. As if she was trying to convince herself.
"Subordinate? Really, Shepard?" They'd been through too much for her to be calling him that so casually. He may not have been there when the Normandy was destroyed, when she died, but he was still a part of the crew. He had been there to help defeat Sovereign.
Her eyes faltered from his, slowly lowering to watch the floor, "We have been through a lot, haven't we?"
"Look, Shepard... you're the only friend I have left. Seeing you like that... It didn't make me doubt you. It made me worry for you." All his chips were on the table with that. He spoke exactly what he was thinking. No humor, no jokes. Just truth.
"I'm a big girl, Vakarian, I can handle myself." She fell back onto humor because that was the only thing she knew how to sculpt with him.
"Don't think I don't see you, Shepard." He warned, leaning against the frame of his door. You were killed. You died. You went from being a loyal Alliance solider, to working with Cerberus, a known enemy of the Council and the Alliance. I know you're not OK. Dare he say that to her? She already knew it, why rub it in her face? He sighed, "I meant it when I said I'll be here if you need me." He'd rather not force her to talk about something she wasn't ready to. Wanted to, rather.
She smiled at that, "I know, Garrus. That's why I was there."
And again silence had enveloped them. He wasn't sure if her answer had satisfied him or not, but whether or not it did, the bottom line had been drawn. She knew he would always be there - here - and that was good enough for him. He cleared his throat awkwardly, offering his bed for her to sit down on as he took his place on the chair beside it. Having a conversation with her while they stood seemed too formal for him. He caught the tiniest hint of a smirk on those lips of hers, and it made him wonder why it was there. Was she laughing at him? He shook his head, his mandibles pinching closer to his mouth to hide the embarrassed smile that he couldn't hide. Well, at least she took his offer and sat down on the edge of his bed.
He heard her grunt, pressing her hand into his mattress and a frown took her lips, "Your's is softer than mine." She muttered, almost jealous.
"You're, uhh... More than welcome to take it." He answered a bit too quickly for it to sound as smooth as he had hoped it would. He hadn't really been using it much these past couple of nights anyways.
She laughed, "I might just do that."
There was the silence once again. However, it had become a comfortable one this time. He assumed it was anyways, at least a bit relaxing if not comforting. Why else would she sink further onto his bed, leaning back on her arms? He realized then that he very much enjoyed being around her like this, when her guard was down. She was... almost cute? No, no, no... cute and Shepard weren't words that even sounded right being used in the same sentence. Whatever it was, he found it charming. She looked aloof, sitting there with her legs crossed, her green eyes looking up at the ceiling. So vulnerable. He felt an overwhelming wave of trust hit his chest, his mandibles flexing with pride in himself. Pride that he had someone who trusted him so explicitly. And not just anyone, but Commander Shepard of all people.
"Garrus," Her voice was diffused from its usual sharp edges to a sound of contentment.
He brought his eyes to her, now noticing that she had caught him staring. He looked away sharply, embarrassed.
"Garrus," She repeated, trying to gain his attention.
He looked at her again, his blue meeting her green. Watching her, he saw her eyes once again find their way to his bandage. Again, there was a flicker of emotion behind those bright eyes. But unlike the last time, he was able to read it this time as fear. Guilt, maybe. Whatever it was, it wasn't good.
"Does it still hurt?" She asked, finally giving her thoughts a voice. She sat upward, her fingers fidgeting nervously with each other.
"Nah," He answered, sitting back against the chair. He moved his hand up to the bandage, his fingers playing with the edges of the material, "It stopped hurting a few days after."
"I'm glad I got to you in time," She blurted. Sounding as if she was forcing herself to say the words now or they'll never be spoken again.
"That makes two of us, Shepard." He answered honestly.
She shook her head, straightening her back and looked him directly in his eyes. "I mean it, Garrus. I-I don't know what I would have done if I arrived too late. I can't... fathom the idea of seeing your... your corpse." She swallowed hard as those last two words slipped past her lips.
He parted his mouth to say something, but she was quick to cut him off. There were tears in her eyes, not yet falling and probably only because she was willing them not to.
"I've lost everyone." She admitted, dropping her gaze and hanging her head. And there was a faint whisper from her that sounded much like the word 'again' before a sob finally broke free from her lungs.
His eyes widen then, he remembered the stories he had heard from Kaiden about Shepard's time in Akuze. She'd been the lone survivor then. Had lost every single one of her teammates, watched them all die as she fought for her life. Who had she lost then? A lover? Best friend? Family? And it had almost happened again on the Normandy. Only almost everyone else had survived the attack, and she had been the one to die. You're about the only thing that's keeping me... here. The sentence echoed in his head, finally grasping the full meaning of her words. He was frozen, completely stupefied by the unexpected confession. How had this thought eluded him for so long? His mandibles flared with anger in himself, it was so selfish of him not to notice it beforehand. He heard her calling his name once more through the haze of his thoughts and his attention didn't falter away from her. He moved to the bed, sitting next to the woman who had started crying on his bed.
And she latched onto him the instant the weight of the bed shifted next to her. Her fingernails scraping against the armor around his arms, her forehead pressing against his chest. She cried.
What he knew of comforting humans was very limited. Sure his human co-workers back in C-sec often complained about their significant others, coming up with plans together on ways to cheer up the spouses so they could sleep in the bedroom again. But Garrus never took notes and usually turned the other way when those conversations popped up. He only knew how to comfort turians, and even then he didn't know how to do it properly. But he had to do something.
He slouched over to lower his head and very softly licked her cheek as gently as he could, testing his boundaries like a cautious puppy would. He waited for a reaction afterwards. A possible recoil, a cry of disgust. But she only turned her head to give him better access. It was an odd reaction to witness in a human, accepting his behavior even though he knew her species weren't the type to lick each other. And since she didn't reject him, he repeated the action, but this time with more confidence. He lapped at the salty tears that dampened her cheeks.
And when she didn't recoil from that either, he lifted a hand to cup her chin, gently guiding her attention to him so she faced him. And she allowed him to lead her. When their eyes met, the pain he saw buried beneath the green hues crushed his soul. His mandibles twitched with concern, flattening against his mouth. He watched as she pinched her bottom lip between her teeth to conceal the sobs and he lowered his head once more. His tongue lapped up the tears. The taste so alien but not at all displeasing. His hands went from holding her chin to cupping either side of her face as he dried up anything that dared to taint her face. And he didn't stop until her cheeks were dry. Until her sobs had been oppressed. When he pulled away to look at her, what he saw in her eyes had his stomach turning upside down.
She whispered his name brokenly, her hands lifting to place themselves on top of his, which were currently holding her head tenderly.
There were still some tears clinging to her bottom lashes but she looked absolutely beautiful. And in that moment, he was just a man and she was just a woman. He saw past the physical features that made their species so different; human, turian... it didn't matter. She had blossomed into something beautiful and it scared the living hell out of him.