A/N: Hello, thank you for taking a moment and viewing this. It's been years since I've written fanfiction, so I'm a bit nervous with this. Be prepared, this piece of work will be very full of gay and an origonal character. Either way, Shepard is pretty much an original character so nearly any ME fanfiction has one anyway... Please enjoy!
"Why do you always insist on drinking all the time?" Strangely enough, there was a motherly style to the way the phrase was delivered. Condescending. All his life, that. Couldn't he be left alone? Nothing was easy.
"It burns when it goes down, that's why." The young man muttered, signaling the Asari bartender to deliver the goods once again. The atmosphere of the bar was slowly dulling away, and it couldn't be done quicker. Especially with the new found annoyance at his side. Seriously, the blue chick was starting to get on his nerves. There used to be a time when he called her a friend. Used to be a time where things weren't so, what the hell do you call it? Who knew anymore. Things were different now. A lot different. The keyword on the matter was used. For now, it was non-existent.
"Quin..." Somehow, before the liquid was able to reach his chapped lips, the slender blue fingers were grasping the glass. Damn her.
"What the fuck do you want Liara?" Finally, the red head turned to look at her. Or it, whatever. He was always confused on to what to truly call an Asari, concerning their gender. Either way, they still had tits.
Frowning, her fingers clung to the alcoholic beverage tighter. As if the male would be able to get it back anyway, she was the stronger bioitc in a fight. "Omega, by the of all places in the galaxies. Omega?" She seemed to be avoiding the subject, leaning against the bar to come in closer.
"You can be forgotten here." It was a mutter that was produced from the male's lips. "Forget easier here."
"But this place..." Liara had started, only to be cut off by sharp grey eyes.
"I know how to take care of myself now." Cautiously, fingers grazed against a still slowly fading scar that went around his neck in a band.
"Yet, you don't look good." Shaking her little tentacle head, she placed the glass out of reach from the slender human male who often attempted to out drink Krogan, and obviously failed. "You're still a friend to me Quin."
"I think it ended when he died." Quin knew his place. Against all the elite the illustrious Commander Shepard placed himself along with, Quin wasn't it. He wasn't any scientist, or Alliance military brute. Or any kind of combat or technical expert. Just someone who should have been nameless to a handsome human Spectre. It was stupid to think someone better had come into a life like his.
Liara sighed, as if she wanted to say something. Gazing at her, she was looking away now. Off into the dancing crowd, without really looking at anyone. He could tell that there was something on the edge of saying, that wouldn't be said. It was in the body language. That's when he noticed something different about her. It had been so long since he'd last seen his formerly good friend. Her posture was different, if somewhat sad. No longer did she look so insecure and awkward. Did Liara grow up? Shockingly, she sighed once more and stole away the drink the man had ordered in one toss back of her head. Gawking at her, she only grinned in response. "God damned woman!" Cracking a slight smile, Quin fought against the urge to start laughing. "Nothing good about 'ya. Always stealing a man's belongings." Shaking his head, the male sighed himself and ran fingers through loose strands of his long red hair.
"I've missed you Quin, it's been too long." Frowning, she turned back to the human male, giving him a stern look. "Come to Illium with me. I've... This is work that I need to get done, and I'd like a friend by my side." It was almost as if the old Liara was still clinging on slightly to this form. Her eyes bright and trusting,Quin only stared at her. What good could he do? She was most likely getting back on track with her life. Studying Protheans again, eager on the newer stuff that was discovered with Shepard. He knew jack shit about it. How could he help her, or was it she just wanted him around? Whatever, it was stupid. Really stupid. It also seemed like she wasn't telling him everything. Hoping he'd say yes, and she'd tell him. He knew she would, Liara had told him everything. About her attraction to the Commander. He never had the heart to tell her the man obviously never saw her as more than a friend. He didn't have to, for the sweet girl put her own foot in her mouth anyway. Shepard had felt so bad about it, though it wasn't like he was going to start something with her out of pity. She eventually noticed how Shepard had gone sweet on him. Now that, was just bizarre.
"Liara... no." Quinton sighed, his palm rubbing against his forehead. Eyes focused onto her now clenched blue fist against the bar, vibrating from the tension. Was she angry at Quin? He wasn't sure, all he wanted was another drink, Liara stole it. He wanted the tension away from his shoulders, forget the life he had before. "I'm laying low for a while." A part of Quin didn't want to disappoint Liara, she was too sweet for that.
"I know you haven't reported for duty in months." Her comment was casual, sending a shiver down the red head's spine. He wanted to forget that, it was pitiful. Quinton was granted leave for a little while, to deal with the events that had happened that lead to Commander Shepard's death. There was a date he was supposed to report back to be stationed somewhere else, never showed up. Wasn't even on the same planet anymore. Quinton didn't want to ask Liara how or why she knew that, same with the question of how she even found him sitting in the corner of the bar at Afterlife. Liara was supposed to be this socially awkward Asari who became a little too obsessed with someone who came in contact with a Prothean beacon.
"Yeah, so?" Quinton tried to get the bartender's attention.
"You're in trouble." Liara offered simply.
"Not yet." Quinton muttered before he sighed heavily. "Look, Liara... just.."
"Leave? Is that what you want me to do?" Liara sounded cold, as if something snapped a little bit in her. Quin could tell there was this untold story, a weight to her shoulders. Something she'd tell him if he came along, something she had wanted to share with the Alliance deserter. Liara was aggravated Quinton was resiting her, she wanted a friend back. Quin couldn't offer that. He could mend a broken bone easily but emotions were tougher. A different degree.
"I-" He knew that if she took him by the arm to bring him out of this shit hole, he'd just go along. Not say anything on the long ride in the ship happened, just accept it. A part of him wanted it.
"Alright, if that's what you want you get it Quinton." Liara stood, her blue eyes colder. Her shoulders were held high, Quinton just blinked. "You act as if the lost of... him only impacts you. As if you were the only one he talked to. Sure, you may have warmed his bed from time to time but did you truly understand what he was going through?" No, Quinton didn't. A lump formed in his throat. There were small arguments, small little things. Neither understood each other at first, Quinton didn't know how to help Shepard interpret anything that was burned into his mind. It pained him then. "Everyone knew a different part of the Commander, and while you got a more private part, don't think you're the only one suffering." Quinton wanted to believe that she was saying this because she was still a little spiteful of him. It was never spoken but there was a hesitancy to her around Quin once the awkwardness passed back then. Quin knew a part of her would always love the Commander. Didn't enjoy that the Shepard's eyes were on someone else then.
"You are still a dear friend Quinton, and I wish for the best for you." Liara sighed in defeat, and Quin felt her arm come around his shoulders slowly in an awkward embrace. "Don't give up hope." Her voice was soft, Quin closed his eyes. It was already gone. The weight of her arm vanished, as well as the Asari. Quin wasn't sure if he was happy or sad, just content to be alone again.
The loss of Gavin Shepard was a hard one. Quinton had been around a lot of deaths, serving in the Alliance as a nurse for seven years. As an assistant to Dr. Chakwas aboard the Normandy, that is where Quinton saw the most action though. The most pain. There were others who were lost when that strange ship gunned down the Normandy. It wasn't just the Commander, but his brilliance out shined many. That was a problem, as many crew members were part of the team Gavin had held. Without them, no matter how small their job was the ship wouldn't have had run as smoothly.
The Galaxy was doomed without him, and Quin was determined to be drunk when the Reapers came.
There's always this sort of strange place you can get yourself into. That place between reality and fiction. The place a person goes to when reality isn't something that is worth facing. In his mind, he really wasn't anywhere. Quinton knew never to really expect much good at all in his life, just knew to at least try to not let it get any worse. Obviously, he was failing miserably.
"Fuck!" Fingers were pulling at Quinton's dark red dreads, it was sort of unpleasant. There wasn't that sort of sexual gratification in the way they were being pulled. It was more violent, feral.
Things were a little different now. A few years ago, if someone told Quinton he'd be letting a Batarian fuck him (willingly) for a small packet of Red Sand, he'd say they were out of their mind. Then perhaps offer to check them for a concussion, or any other ailment. It wasn't like it was the first time, yet that was something the man had wanted to put behind him. Yet, here was was. Sunk even lower than he was before he had joined the Alliance as a medical nurse.
"Shut. The. Fuck. Up. Human." Every word was emphasized with a grunt from the Batarian, the alien began to thrust harder as well. Quinton bit down on his lip, knuckles going white clinging to the sheets. His eyes were already closed, he wished for a different way to close out his senses. His body was quivering, and not in the good way. It hurt, so goddamned much. He was glad this guy didn't want any sort of cooperation on his end. It wasn't going to happen, and he was begging in his head for it to be over.
It was all worth it, right? The red head bit down harder onto his bottom lip, small whimpers breaking out from his throat. This was all for a fix, all for some drug to fill him up with. What was he going to do for the next time he needed more? There wasn't time to think ahead. Quin didn't want to think ahead. That was for optimists. Sooner or later, the Batarian did finish up, quite messily. Quinton's chest was pounding, as his hair was let go and he was able to flop down onto the bed. He took a few deep breaths before sitting up, opening his eyes and looked over to the other inhabitant of the room. The Batarian was quickly getting to work on putting on his mercenary armor. Quinton wasn't so hasty as his alien friend, yet he at least had his pants on after a few moments.
When a small packet of red sand was thrown in his general direction, Quin gasped and fumbled as he attempted to catch it. His neck hurt, his everything hurt. He wanted to go to the shitty apartment he called home and just sleep. "Where's the rest." The statement brought the young man out of his train of thought. Looking over at the mercenary Quinton blinked. Not sure if he heard the Batarian fiddling with a small knife just right.
"Wh-what?" Immediately he placed the packet of Red Sand into his pocket, as if it would protect it.
"The rest of what you owe me. You know, credits?" Smirking, the alien blinked his four eyes and stared down the human.
"But I just..." Quin didn't want to finish that statement. His grey eyes flickered over to the door, wondering if he could jump over the messy bed if he really needed to.
"Oh, you think that covers the amount Red Sand costs?" Quinton was starting to get scared now, he's always been scared of Batarians. Four beady eyes burning into his skin, obey. Trembling fingers reacted in a nervous habit, rough skin at the neck. Ugly. "That was nothing human, it only chipped off a few credits."
"I know how much it costs!" Quinton clenched his teeth, his chest heaving as his breath quickened. "And I believe that was good enough as an exchange."
"Maybe you're too confident in your skills." The merc chuckled, and Quinton decided right then that trying to run was the best idea. He didn't have much money. There wasn't much else he could do. He just let this Batarian screw him! He fucking hated himself. Quin wasn't that fast either, as his arm was grabbed and twisted behind his back. As he cried out, his back was flush to the Batarian. His arm painfully stretched behind him, and the knife held to his throat, there wasn't much the human could do. The man did have biotic skills, yet it was a strain to even try. It was minimal, even if the red sand heightened it. Quinton wasn't high, he was crashed. "Come on now, you weren't going to run, were you?" The knife slid from his neck down to his chest. The point poked into the skin of his chest, most likely drawing blood. A whine passed Quinton's lips, body shaking. "You've got to pay."
"I already did." Quinton risked, swallowing hard. Within a few moments, Quin's hair was yanked and the knife pressed harder. He didn't know what to do, this was out of his range. Even back while he was in the Alliance, basic training was years ago. During his time, he served on various ships as assistant and mostly just got to right sprained ankles. His best job was aboard the Normandy. The ship was gone.
There was a quick jerk from the Batarian and the knife slit a shallow gash across the man's chest and he was thrown forward. Luckily Quinton landed on the bed, but the cut stung. Quickly he turned so he was facing the Batarian. He was trying to get away while the other was in his sights. There was a gun or two in the room, he wasn't sure what he could do once those were pulled on him. The door was still across the room.
Quin didn't want to die. Not yet. Not so soon.
It was when the man blinked that it happened. One moment the Batarian was staring maliciously at him with it's four eyes. The next his head was blown off as the door opened. Quinton cried out in shock, both relieved and frightened at this potential new threat. Now the objective was to get away from the door as his blood trickled down his chest. It was probably more mercs, this guy probably pissed off the wrong person. Quinton didn't want to piss them off either. A small group entered the room, their weapons raised and they looked around the room. Once their sights were on him, they raised their weapons against him, Quinton immediately panicked, raising his arms. "Don't shoot! I'm..." He didn't know what to say. What was he in this situation? He was in a room, just finishing off some sort of fucked up deal with a Batarian merc. Obviously he was trading sexual favors for drugs, failing, though he wasn't a prostitute. "Don't shoot." Quin's hands were shaking, staring at the various helmeted figures.
"Stand down." Quin's eyes fell on a very obvious Turian figure. The other gunmen were hesitant to follow this order, and Quin was glad they did. After a few moments, the Turian that spoke took off his helmet and Quinton almost fell down in shock.
"Garrus!" This was so embarrassing. Now he was truly in rock bottom, and not willing to get out just yet. "Oh fuck, Garrus." Quinton lowered his arms, shaking his head and refusing to look at the other. He was a reminder of the past, an old friend.
"Quinton." The Turian simply said, looking over the human. "What are you doing?" It was a tone of disapproval, and he walked over and picked up the shirt that the turian presumed to be Quin's off the floor. Garrus moved over and pressed the shirt to the wound on the red head's chest, staring down at him. Quinton didn't answer, looking away. "What are you doing?" Garrus asked once more, mandibles flaring.
"I don't know, I really don't know." Quin looked up at the taller figure, wondering what Garrus was doing here as well. There were too many questions, and Quin was so tired. After a few moments, Quin couldn't look at Garrus anymore and his eyes were everywhere but, ears burning in shame. All of this for a quick high. A part of Quinton wanted to turn back the clock, press into that blade the batarian held to his flesh so he wouldn't have to face this. The feeling of shame, but this wasn't even rock bottom for him.
The first time Quinton saw a turian, he was intimidated. They were such a strange creature, so inhuman. There was never really a time when he came into contact with one who was friendly with him just to be friendly. Garrus wasn't a close friend, though Quin knew he could count on the turian. It was strange that Garrus was here on this shit hole. Quin wanted to ask and at the same time just run out and away from this situation. "Never would have guessed." Garrus sighed, he turned away from Quinton and to the other helmeted figures lingering near the door.
One was inspecting the batarian who was now growing cold on the floor. "Drugs." A female voice drifted from the figure kneeling near the body. Quin squirmed and decided to pull the now bloody shirt over his figure. The cut was still bleeding but it would probably stop sooner or later. Garrus turned quickly to look at the only human in the room now, mandibles flaring once more. Quin locked eyes with him for a moment or two before looking away again. Gnawing on the skin of his bottom lip, Quinton had to make a choice.
"Quinton, you need to give me some answers." Garrus' voice was firm, and he was making his way over to Quin once more. With a pounding heart Quinton moved quickly, shoving Garrus out of the way as lightly as he could. Voices sounded in alert, as the other figures didn't know who Quin was. As soon as he was out of the door a gun was shot. Stumbling for a moment, Quin's heart leaped into his throat. For a moment the male thought he was was hit, but it was only nerves. Garrus' voice was loud and intelligible yet no other shots were made.
The past was slowly creeping up, it wasn't pleasant at all.