Repercussions
(alternatively titled Reaper-cussions, should you be the sort of person who enjoys puns)
A/N: My first fanfic in almost ten years. I am first and foremost striving to get the characters right; please don't hesitate to let me know how I can improve.
Garrus Vakarian had studied his Commanding Officer's mannerisms for long enough to know when she was hiding something from the rest of the crew, and this time was no exception. Shepard oversaw initial repairs to the Normandy SR-2 with the same vigilance and attention to detail he'd expect of a C-Sec officer conducting an investigation, and carried on conversations with the few surviving crewmembers with the charisma and confidence of any great military leader, but her body language betrayed a simmering anxiety.
It was in the way she would lean away from people, folding her arms and building a subconscious barrier between them. It was in the way she sped up ever so slightly whenever her shipboard travels took her past Yeoman Chambers' old terminal, or the empty kitchen where Gardner used to stand. Most of all, it was in the number of times he had watched her rub at or shrug her right shoulder. It was a tic she hadn't had before her death and subsequent resurrection, but ever since they had reunited on Omega he had found it to be a reliable indicator of her mental state. And ever since they had returned through the Omega-4 relay with half of the crew gone, she had been fussing with it almost incessantly.
"We should stop by Illium first. Fix up the ship, restock our supplies... recruit some new faces." The Commander rolled her shoulder stiffly as Joker replied, his response mostly inaudible from where the turian was doing repairs and clean-up in the CIC.
"I'm aware, Joker. This isn't about what EDI is or isn't capable of."
She peered down the hallway behind her, checking for eavesdroppers. Garrus quickly averted his eyes and acted very interested in the debris he was holding.
"The remaining crew needs to see this ship alive again, and that isn't going to happen as long as there are empty chairs and unused terminals all over the place." Shepard's left hand rose to her right shoulder once more as Joker presumably spoke. "Trust me, I'm not crazy about the idea either, but they really need this. Tuchanka and Omega are pretty much out of the question for what I hope are obvious reasons, and right now I think I'd sooner shoot the Council than risk even the possibility of having to deal with them. So as much as I don't relish the idea of dealing with shady contracts, that leaves Illium." Silence, and then a sudden pause in her shoulder massaging as she chuckled. "Exactly, Joker. Exactly."
Garrus resumed his repairs, assuming the conversation to be nearing its end. Sure enough, it wasn't long before he picked up the sound of the Commander's footsteps. He glanced up and tried to catch her attention, but Shepard was too absorbed in making a beeline to the tech lab.
She certainly doesn't lack for work ethic, he mused, absentmindedly rubbing at his own shoulder.
"Damn it all, Vakarian, this isn't good enough!" Shepard declared, slamming her datapad onto the ground and rising from the crate she'd been sitting on.
"I've spent the last fifteen day cycles working on this. I've hardly slept. I've contacted everyone who has ever owed me a favour, and plenty more who didn't. What do you mean, 'it's not good enough'?" the turian demanded, eyes wide and mandibles flaring in agitation.
But the Commander didn't seem to notice; she was too busy burrowing the heel of her hand into the bridge of her nose, her fingers clenched into a fist.
Garrus almost opened his mouth to speak again, then thought better of it. He recognized the peril his hotheaded outburst had put him in even in his state of exhaustion. When facing the Commander's wrath, it was usually best to just shut up and hope she didn't biotically throw you across the room - she and Jack seemed to have that in common. And, he had observed, she never referred to him as 'Vakarian' unless she was at least considering it.
So he simply stood there and let tense silence fill up the main battery like a fog. At length, Shepard removed the hand from her face, her temper apparently curbed for the moment.
"I'm sorry, Garrus. This isn't your fault." She picked up the datapad and stared at it again, her expression painstakingly stoic in nature. "I have an obligation to tell the next of kin of each and every one of these people what happened to their parents... their siblings... their spouses. Cerberus or not, it's the least I can do after -" She cut herself off with a slow shake of her head. "And we can't even find any relevant information on half of these people, because the Illusive Asshole locked EDI out of their database when I made it clear I wasn't going to be his puppet anymore." Shepard punctuated her mention of the Illusive Man with a punch at the wall.
"You did the right thing," Garrus interjected, soberly. Shepard threw one hand into the air in response.
"So everyone keeps telling me," she replied, shrugging her shoulder and bringing a hand up to massage it yet again. Garrus silently noted the gesture. "I suspect most of them mean it, even."
"But you aren't so sure."
She sighed and gave him a weak, almost sheepish smile. "I'm not always as sure of myself as I make myself out to be, Garrus."
"Mmm." The turian rubbed at the rough plating surrounding his face wearily. "I can relate to that. On Omega, there were times where I second-guessed myself. Not... what I was doing. I never for a moment doubted that taking out those bastards was the right thing to do." He leaned against the wall opposite the Commander and bored holes into the floor with his eyes. "But there were definitely days where I felt the pressure that comes with having others under your command, and it was all I could do not to tell them to leave before I made a decision that got them all killed."
Heh. Maybe I should have said something while I still could. Garrus inhaled sharply, but didn't voice the thought.
"Actually, now that you mention it, I've been meaning to ask you something." He saw in her stance that he was no longer speaking to the friend who'd been freely disclosing her inner thoughts a moment before; the woman before him now was unquestionably the indomitable Commander that was all many people ever got to see. "We're no longer under Cerberus' orders, and even if we were, Lawson's dead. Whatever you may think about what happened on Omega, you're a capable leader. You proved that much on the Collector base."
The Commander took a step closer to him and put a firm hand on his upper arm.
"I need a new XO. I don't want to pressure you if you don't think you're up to the task, but I can't think of anyone I trust more to do what needs to be done in a tough situation."
"I... I don't know what to say, Commander," stammered the turian, shocked out of the morose mood he'd so easily slipped into just a moment before. "Are you sure-"
"If you need time to think about it, that's fine," Shepard cut in. "But yes, I'm sure." Her expression softened somewhat as she stepped backwards towards the door. "Get some sleep, Garrus. You obviously need it."
He crossed his arms, feigning defiance. "Is that an order?"
"Do I need to make it one?" Her tone was harsh, but she was smirking as took her first steps out the door.
"Not today, Shepard," he replied, returning her grin as best as his turian features would allow. "Tomorrow, maybe. But not today."
Next Chapter: Jack gets into a fight with another crewmember. Hilarity ensues.