A/N: I did it. I finally gave into my Shakarian urges.
This is set sometime before the attack on the Illusive Man's base.
I haven't written anything in a long time so I'm trying to ease myself back into it. This story has it's things I'm not happy about, but for the most part, for it being well over a year, maybe two, since I have written a story I am pleased with it.
The beginning is suppose to be short and choppy. I felt like that really conveyed the emotion of waking up from a nightmare.
I will come back and edit the things I'm not happy with, but I did to get some distance from the story first.
I would love critiques. I really really want to polish my writing style again. Please tell me if you think I got Garrus and Shepard right!
Finally, enjoy!
The voices. The fog. Running as quickly as she could, but moving at a crawl. Moving past black figures, figures that almost had faces. Faces she could almost recognize. She had to follow. Had to find. She turned the corner. Light. A small bundle of light surrounding the smallest black figure. She had to get to him. Move. Move faster. Everything looks the same. Follow the light. Get to the light. Finally as she approaches him. The figure looks up at her.
No…
The piercing noise fills her ears as recognition washes over her.
Shepard awoke tangled in her covers and drenched in sweat. She sat up and buried her head in her hands.
The boy. The little boy from Earth. The one she couldn't save. The innocent life she watched get blown up as she escaped in the shuttle.
The nightmares were getting worse. She was hearing voices now. It was Ashley's voice this time.
"I'm sorry, Ash," Shepard mutters as she remembers Virmire.
Shepard walked over to her desk. She could only be strong and alone for so long. Taking a deep breath she hit the intercom, "Garrus?"
"You rang?" came back his voice, playful, but with tones of stress.
"I didn't wake you did, I?" Shepard can only imagine what she sounds like.
"No, surprisingly enough you didn't. Want do you need?"
"Are you busy?"
Ten minutes later, Shepard opened her door to Garrus, he looks like he hasn't slept in days. "Come on, let's sit and talk," he suggests as he walks her over to the couch.
"Garrus, you-" Shepard starts, before Garrus stops her.
"The war. It hasn't been easy sleeping. Making those calls on Palaven. My father and sister. People are dying. But you know all of this just as well as I do, I can see it in your face," he replied gently, "What's on your mind?"
Shepard's thoughts race, there are hundreds of thoughts she wants to express and just as many feelings that she doesn't know how to, she doesn't know where to start, but then, "I miss Ash." The words fall out of her mouth before she can stop them.
Garrus sighs, "I know, Shepard. Like I said, 'tough calls.' When you care about people, the decisions become that much harder."
He puts his arm around her and she lets her head fall on his shoulder, "She was a wise-ass, headstrong soldier, but she respected you. She would have followed you into the very center of a Reaper. But she wouldn't be angry at you for your choice."
"I can't sleep anymore. I see them in my sleep. Everyone," she whispered into his arm.
"Well that, I can't help you with, I can't sleep well myself. I plan and strategize in my sleep. Think of all the outcomes. How many people will be lost to this option as opposed to that option. There never seems to be an option where there aren't heavy casualties," he replies heavily.
"You know, on Turian ships, if I was feeling like this, I would challenge my men to a fight. Boost morale, provide a distraction, let them let off some steam," Garrus said as his mind drifted. He began to stroke Shepard's hair with his long fingers.
Shepard remembered a story like this he told her before, about fighting a Recon Scout. Something to do with reach and flexibility, she shook the thought out of her mind.
"I do suppose I could always go down and challenge James," he added, "I heard you gave him a run for his money."
"He wanted to dance," Shepard replied, remembering the sparing match in the shuttle bay.
"Remind me when we go to The Citadel not to ask you to dance," Garrus teased lightly, "Figuratively or literally."
Shepard smiled slightly at the jab. It was a well known fact that she couldn't dance, and it was also a great target for teasing.
"Well I can't be good at everything," she teased back.
"No, and no one is asking for you to be," Garrus replied tenderly.
"They're just asking me to save the galaxy from being destroyed, I'm just one human," Shepard sighed, she felt weak and exhausted, "I can honestly say I have the weight of the galaxy resting on my shoulders."
"But you're not alone, Shepard" Garrus said as his hand found hers, "You have the crew, and your friends, and," his other hand gently turned her face, "This one Turian who can't bear facing the galaxy with you."