Setting: Post-ME3, 2 days after destroy ending, random planet
Plot: Original Character, colonizing planet after disabling crash
Pairing: OC/OC(mentioned), OC/Garrus
Chap. Goal: Currently 10
Rating/Warning: T for language, gore/Extreme spoilers, suggestive themes
Disclaimer: I don't own Mass Effect or any associated characters.
A/N: I know, an OC fic. A MALE OC fic with another male character of all things. But when the inspiration hits, it hits hard. Right between the legs. So there ya go. I'm not gonna edit and fix this up because I doubt many people will ever look at it. ^^
He lay flat on his back, attempting to force more air into lungs. His chest felt like a fuckin' Reaper had sat on it, and for all his effort, he couldn't move his body. White hot spots of light danced across his vision, practically blinding him to his surroundings.
His head, though bombarded with pain signals and urgent demands for oxygen, began grasping for the pieces of memory that would tell him why he felt this way.
We crashed.
That much was clear. Being a member of the Alliance Navy, the hum of the engine and soft whirr of Warp drives beneath his boots were a constant. He heard and felt neither; so he wasn't on the ship anymore.
Actually feels more like I'm under the damn thing...
A memory clicked; there was a ship. Another ship, hit by the shockwave of -
The Crucible!
Fuckin' A - someone fired the Reaper-sweeper! We won!
Exalted cheers and a jubilant atmosphere had filled the bridge, and a weight so unbearably heavy had been lifted off them so suddenly that the giddiness had damn-near made his knees weak. His mind had gone blank with shock and realization - it was almost numbing. Words stopped short in his throat.
And then Lieutenant Sanders' urgent voice had broken through the cheer, "Captain - a ship - impact imminent -"
A violent jerk had sent him across the bridge, wrapping his body around the Command hub. That, at least, explained the sharp pain when he took in a breath - probably shattered a few ribs. Bruised a few vital organs.
The memories after that were less vivid, dulled by pain and the rush of adrenaline. The ear-splitting wail of emergency systems, the red floodlights and suffocating smoke - all broken fragments of memory that he couldn't grasp. There were screams but he couldn't make out who the voices belonged to or what they were saying.
In a single moment of clarity, moments before it all went dark, he had caught a glimpse at the display monitor; he could make out the planet they had keyed in on for an emergency landing. Too green for comfort; but Class "M". Breathable.
Good thing, too, because through the haze of pain, he felt the soft tickle of plant-life against his neck. Somehow, he had survived being ejected from a Starship falling from thousands of meters at ungodly speeds.
Or maybe I'm dying. Feels like I'm dying.
Sensation returned to his arms; achy and stiff, but not broken. He reached out and felt cold metal against his palms. It was just over his chest and he realized it was pinning him against the earth - and accounted for the extreme difficulty in breathing.
He pushed against it and it shifted slightly, but not nearly enough for relief.
The lights in his head began to fade and darkness settled in its place; and for a horrible moment he thought he was going blind, or worse, fading into the obscurity of after-life. But a few shuddering breaths later, he realized he could make-out a pinprick of red, fluttering light a few feet above him.
He was buried beneath rubble.
"Hey -"
His voice cracked around the word and he choked on the dry tissue of his throat; coughing painfully. It was the most pitiful sound he had ever made and again, he wondered how close to death he actually was.
Shit. Gotta breathe.
He shoved against the metal again, this time wiggling his body in an attempt to free himself. Pain thrummed through him in violent waves and there was little success. The energy sucked out of him all at once.
"Anyone - up there?" He croaked, again coughing around the words. He lifted an arm and rapped his knuckles against the metal. The noise echoed in the tight compartments and jutted through his head like a sledge hammer. "Anyone hear me?"
There was no reply, no noise but the slight echo of his weakening breathes.
For fucks sake. Fought and survived against the end of the Universe... just to die in this shithole? No way.
He lifted an arm again and pounded the metal, ignoring the amplified echo in his skull. "Help - someone fuckin' get me out!" He pushed his voice as hard as he could passed the dried nodes of his throat, though with little success. It felt like he was pushing a knife out of his mouth.
Finally, he felt his body deflate, void of energy. His head began to whirl and he closed his eyes against the sudden onslaught of nausea.
It was an ironic death. He could almost have laughed at it - if he could've gotten enough air into his lungs, anyway. The darkness - a different kind - began to set in. It was colder and dizzying but it took the edge off the pain. He didn't struggle against it too hard; if he was going to die anyway, why bother to make it hurt more? It crept slowly, pulling him deeper into it...
"...telling you, it wasn't... know what I heard..." The words cut through the darkness, all but jerking him from it. It was unfamiliar, yet had a rattle that he recognized, like walking over gravel. He couldn't quite place -
"Maybe an animal or something. I'm telling you, there's nobody out here. See the scorch marks? This was where the core breach occurred. No way there's anyone here - not alive, anyway."
He heard the scuff of their boots against metal. They were near.
"No, there was banging and I definitely heard a voice."
It clicked -
A Turian?
That weird voice-rattle they all had. He had only met a few in his career - more, since the war started, but he hadn't served next to any. Even still, the drawl was unmistakable; the other, he thought, was human.
"Hey - Anyone down here?" The Turian's voice carried. "Bang around or something so we can hear you."
Easier said.
He struggled to summon the energy needed to keep his eyes open. His head whirled and throbbed horribly and his body felt like a lead weight. Still, he clenched his teeth and fought to lift an arm.
"C'mon, Garrus. We've got a lot of work to do."
"The work will still be there in another minute. Just hold on." He heard the human huff, but there was a deliberate silence thereafter.
Now or never.
Shoving through the pain and weight and darkness, his fist found the metal again. Weak by all accounts, but hopefully deliberate enough to call attention -
"There!" The Turian's voice. More shuffle, and then, almost directly above him. "Hey - are you done there?"He couldn't see anymore, but his voice was loud and it echoed.
He opened his mouth - and coughed, unable to form words.
"Holy shit -" The Human -
"I told you. Hold on down there. Here, help me lift." Several metallic scrapings, heavy grunts and strained curses later; and intense light pervaded his vision. "There - I think I see him. Gimme a hand -"
"Are you crazy? You can't go down there, it could collapse any second. Wait for the -"
"Look at him, Carlos - he's under those beams. He doesn't have another 20 minutes. Now hold this up - a little more - there, I can get through." A few moments later and a heavy thump resonated somewhere near his head. It caused a violent tremor through the tiny cavern - metal groaned as it slid against each other.
A few moments later and he felt a small pressure against his neck. "Hey there." His voice was soft and reassuring - well, as soothing as a giant reptiles voice could be. "Just hold on. I'm going to try and lift this thing. You might have to push yourself out, though, if you can."
He didn't try to reply - it'd just be broken croaks anyway -
A strained grunt was followed by a sudden release of pressure - and his body reacted without need to think. He sucked in the air like he'd never have another chance - the pain in his abdomen and chest exploded and yet the onslaught of oxygen was almost euphoric. It was like taking a breath of life itself and with it came new energy, a new will to survive and keep breathing it. It boiled in his veins and he felt his body light up like a fucking live-wire -
"I can't lift -" The Turian cut off when he reached out and shoved against the beam, lifting it far enough to free his legs. He kicked out, pushing himself out from under it with everything he had -
It fell to the ground with a heavy thud and when no pain tore through his legs, he realized he was free of it. He choked and sputtered on the newfound air like a sick dog but the sheer relief of it kept him grasping for more and more.
"Hey, hey - take it easy, now, you're alright."He felt hands gripping at his chest plates, gently lifting him. When he tensed and gasped in pain, he stopped. "We can't stay down here - this whole thing is ready to collapse. Marcus - your biotics?"
"Right - one at a time."
"Him first, but be careful. I think he has a few broken ribs. Don't need a punctured lung out here." He was laid out flat on his back, and few moments later, the familiar compass of biotic power lifted him. He was guided with a hand on his back - he screwed his eyes shut against the pervasion of light. He was lowered gently to the ground.
"There ya go - just hold on." Another hand on his chest. "You next, Garrus."
"Yeah - ready."
A few moments later, and the Turian was at his side again. He felt coarse skin against his neck, and the brush of talons drew an uncomfortable shiver through his spine. "He's in pretty bad shape - we need to get him to the Doc. Don't suppose you could biotic carry him there?"
"I'm lucky my biotics can lift your ass out of a hole. I wouldn't even try it."
"Thought so. Alright, the hard way then. Come on, help me put him on my shoulder - gently." The Turian gripped his chest plate again and he felt hands at his waist, lifting him slowly to lie - uncomfortably - across the Turians neckpiece. "C'mon, we'd better hurry."
At some point during the trek back, he had blacked out.
When he opened his eyes again, his head was still spinning - but with a whole different kind of dizziness. The cloud 9, blissfully high state that could only be achieved through a shitload of drugs. Where his stomach felt empty and his thoughts watery and difficult to grasp - there was no pain. An equitable trade.
"My, my, look who's decided to join the living." The figure above him was warped by the medication, but he could make out a head full of gray hair and sharp blue eyes. Her voice was optimistic, though tinged with sarcastic humor. "How do you feel?"
"Preahh dum goo -" His brow screwed together; that didn't sound anything like what he wanted to say. He cleared his throat and tried it again, speaking slow and deliberate, "Pretty damn good."
She chuckled, and he watched through heavy lids and she piddled around him. He tried to focus on something, blinking against the nauseating swirl of colors. Most dominate was red; it shifted and rolled above him in confusing blocks, and he couldn't it. He opened his mouth to ask -
And the moment he did, she pressed a wooden stick into his mouth, pressing his tongue back and apparently shining a light down his throat. He coughed against it - but she was out just as quickly before he could react anymore.
"Sorry, dear - The medical equipment was severely damaged in the crash, I'm afraid. Fortunately for you lot, I was a doctor long before Medi-gel and Unity implants." She rounded his bed and lifted his arm, and he felt a sharp tug as she adjusted something. "A few more days of fluids and bed rest; you'll be holding a rifle again in no time."
A few more days? How long have I been out?
His mind struggles to fill in the missing parts; he had lost days and yet, somehow it felt like he'd just gotten the the war-end news moments ago. Stood by his comrades in the bridge, hearing Admiral Hackett's voice over the comm, confirming that Reapers and abominations everywhere were dropping. That they were saved -
His comrades.
Their faces - Jace, Mel, Benny - Kaylee, who had been standing at his side and gripping his shoulder when they'd gotten the news. She had inhaled softly and covered her mouth. He thought he remembered tears.
"I'm telling you, there's nobody out here. See the scorch marks? This was where the core breach occurred. No way there's anyone here - not alive, anyway."
The air left him as if a wrecking ball had plowed into his gut. Beeps and monitors began wailing around him as his eyes flew around the room, wild and panicked. His crew - his comrades - how many died? How many were alive - where were they?!
He heard the doctor at his side, speaking frantically to him, but he couldn't hear her words for the rush of emotion.
"Where are - my friends? Where's Kay?" His words were slurred and feverish - but he repeated them, whirling around in search of another bed. He needed to see one of them - any of them - "Kay!" He heard himself calling for her, pushing off the bed - only to be forced back down and pressed onto his back. A sudden desperation mixed with frustration overwhelmed him and he lashed out at the hands holding him back, keeping him from finding his friends -
It only brought more hands down on him, more chaos around him and the more it buzzed the harder he fought it, disregarding the growing pain in his abdomen -
A sudden chill spread through his arm, tunneling up his shoulder and expanding throughout his chest. It made his body heavy and slow - and he realized it was an anesthetic moments before he was dragged into a cool, heavy darkness. It dulled all his senses and encompassed his mind, and he was helpless to fight it. Soon after, he was lost in it.