Hello Readers. This is a fairly complete re-write of my original story "Whispers in the Dark." I renamed it because I've re-written, moved, and changed the majority of the story and felt a fresh, more representative title was in order. Thank you to those that read the previous version and reviewed or followed. I've grown a lot over the past few years and I hope this iteration exemplifies that. Thank you for reading!
=/=
He stared blankly at the pin pricked void viewable through the tiny window. Numbness, then an acute sensation of nausea overwhelmed him. The turian placed a steadying hand on the bulkhead, the faces crowding around him mirrored his expression of horror and disbelief. They had just witnessed the destruction of the Normandy and the death of Commander Shepard. Indestructible, tireless Shepard. Savior of the Citadel, first human spectre, hero to all humanity and many other species as well. And their friend. Joker's voice wailed uncharacteristically over the comm, but his words, repeating the same mantra over and over were unneeded.
The pod turned slowly in its trajectory all eyes still trained on that one spot. There had been no mistaking Shepard's red highlighted N7 space suit as the woman spun head over heels following the last explosion that tore the Normandy apart, suit leaking precious oxygen into the darkness of space. Though so small and far away, they watched her struggle futilely as she entered the planet's atmosphere, her tiny form quickly engulfed in blazing red. Ever brightening as she plummeted downward. All the courage in the galaxy couldn't save her from the simple force of gravity. Large sections of the Normandy began to burn up in their wild decent after her.
Everyone just stared. There were no words from the occupants nor were there doubts. She could not survive that. The soft sound of Tali weeping broke the spellbound group. Garrus put a supportive arm around the fragile quarian as he continued to stare at the spot where Shepard had disappeared. Dr. Chakwas' hands were folded against her chest, a silent tear streamed down her cheek. Liara's small hands gripped the seat harness, intense sadness and denial etched in her features. Garrus was sure the occupants of the other escape pods were in a similar state of shock as they.
"Oh my god, she spaced... oh my god, Shepard... she spaced, I couldn't stop it... oh my god..." Joker's wailing mantra continued.
=/=
It was so quiet. Calm. Peaceful. Black.
Too quiet. Nothing? Was there supposed to be nothing? For what seemed eternity there was nothing. Not even thoughts. Just blissful, empty nothing. But now, somehow, she began to wonder.
Where was she? Who was she? A little girl, with loving parents. On Mindoir. She had friends, everything was perfect. Nothing to worry about beyond what to wear to school. Who was flirting with who lately.
Then... a fight with her parents?
Blood everywhere. Did she...? Her parents on the floor, so much blood.
No. The batarians. The shock, the horror. The numbness. The pistol in her hand. The flow of uncontrolled biotics. The bastards who'd killed her parents in pools of blood at her feet. Selydra. Shepard.
Shepard.
The name caused a twinge of something. Her name was Shepard. It resonated in her mind like the sour twang of a stringed instrument out of tune. That name meant something.
N Special Forces induction. Laughing faces around drinks. Training. Hard work. Dedication. Self-discipline. The thrill of high risk missions. She had thrived among her brothers and sisters. Routine scouting mission. The ground explodes. Blood and body parts rain from the sky. So much blood. And acid. It burns her armor and shoulder. So much pain. Increasing now.
Anderson. The Normandy. The pain. Why won't it stop? The worm's gone. Nihlus. Saren. Spectre induction. The reapers. Kaidan. Liara. Ashley. Oh, Ashley! Virmire. Why couldn't she save them both? Why wasn't she fast enough? Why won't the pain stop? The burning is unbearable. Her whole body's on fire, inside and out.
Sovereign. Ilos. Wrex. The battle for the Citadel. The Normandy! She died! The Normandy explodes around her even as she struggles for breath. Stars spin. Her space suit burns on re-entry, leaking precious oxygen uselessly into the void. Oh, the pain!
Is it over? No more fighting? No more struggle? But why won't the pain stop? Is this punishment for feeling relieved? Relieved. She had been relieved to die. The pain! Make it stop!
MAKE IT STOP!
Shepard's eyes flew open on the operating table, her mouth opened in a scream, though only a ragged gasp came out.
"Miranda, she's waking up!" Wilson said in panic as a patchwork Shepard began struggling against the cold surface. The muscles barely worked but she still tried, quivering hands pulled at the tubes, eyes that stung darted wildly. Miranda barked orders while gently restraining the flailing Commander. Bloodshot blue eyes fell on the woman's uniform, emblazoned with that gold symbol and reflexively Shepard reached for her throat.
This had to be a nightmare! So much pain! The woman held her down easily. What had happened to her?! Why wouldn't her body respond? With tremendous effort she heaved her head up as Wilson hit her with a second dose of sedative.
If her stomach had had anything in it she would have vomited at the vision before her. It was a corpse. A body that didn't belong to her. A sewn together cadaver, glittering with metal pieces and cybernetics. As the darkness closed in again she screamed in the confines of her mind. Hades' Dogs had turned her into a monster!
=/=
Her eyes snapped open. Blinded by searing white light and the terribly uncomfortable feeling of air hitting her irises she blinked rapidly, her eyes burned and promptly filled with tears. Everything felt wrong and uncomfortable. A pained grunt accompanied her raised arm, squinting against the harsh illumination, blinking as she turned her head to the side. Her lungs ached, her eyes felt scalded from disuse and it took several moments for her vision to focus. She was in the same lab as her nightmare. Why did every muscle in her body scream as though she'd been run over by something huge? Where was she? Except for a few un-healed incision type marks she looked normal once again. Much paler, though surprisingly still toned.
Her eyes lingered on the reddish incision type marks trekking spots on the bare skin. That meant the nightmare had been real. Nausea overtook her and she groaned, leaning forward, a hand on her ribs, her hair fell about her in waves.
Everything hurt and she groaned again, one hand dropped to the edge of the table to help her even remain upright, the other pulled the lone meager sheet over her exposed upper body. Whatever had been done to her, someone was going to pay.
The voice on the speaker she immediately recognized as the woman who'd held her down. Miranda she vaguely remembered the man calling her. Without hesitation she waved a hand and overloaded the speaker, silencing her. Now all her concentration centered around one thought: she had to escape.
A few unsteady steps and she regained her balance, remembering how to walk again, padding on bare feet to the lockers. A t-shirt and scrub pants later she was out the door, claiming a pistol off the corpse of a Cerberus guard and cleared the mechs. She appeared to be in a medical or science facility of some sort, so there had to be a way off. All the personnel she encountered were either dead or being gunned down by security mechs, most of them beyond her reach.
It severely creeped her out that every single one seemed to recognize her and scream to her for help before they died.
Pausing in a clear office she activated her omni-tool and did a brief self-scan.
Vitals: slightly elevated. Normal considering the situation.
Chemical composition: slight traces of sedatives. Metabolizing.
Cybernetics: lots of cybernetics. Holy cybernetics. What the hell did they do to her?
Lung capacity: increased.
Heart function: increased.
Muscle/stamina: increased.
Vision: increased.
Tech armor: upgraded.
Biotic implant: upgraded.
Omni-tool: upgraded.
Shepard frowned. The holographic armor shimmered into existence around her bare arms and t shirt. It definitely had been upgraded. And she must look very silly.
Damnit. My kingdom for a damn bra.
Shepard rounded the corner and spotted the Cerberus soldier under cover and heavy fire and was immediately tempted to just shoot him. With a sigh she realized she should find out what was going on before killing anyone. After all it would appear she was alive because of them. Why did they rescue her and not the Alliance?
Jacob did a double take as Shepard came running up, skidding on her knees into cover near him, in nothing but scrub pants, a t-shirt, and tech armor, long dark hair hung in waves about her shoulders. With a grenade launcher strapped to her back. And bare feet. Ignore the jiggling tits, he chided himself. It was definitely the oddest assortment and lack of armor he'd ever seen. Using the mechs as a distraction he traded a few shots before acknowledging her.
"Shepard?! Last I knew you were a work in progress. What're you doing awake?"
She picked off a mech with overload then shot it in the head. Damn. Good aim, he was impressed.
"Miranda someone was yelling at me. Why the hell am I in a Cerberus facility? What the hell happened to me? Why are we being attacked. And where is my crew?"
Jacob ducked with a startled curse as more gunfire pinged on the rail above them, but Shepard didn't even flinch. He stared at her stymied for a moment. There's a reason for her reputation, I guess.
"Look, I know this must all be a shock to you, but if you'll help me clear all these mechs out I promise I'll play twenty questions with you all day. We're low on thermal clips, but I'm a biotic-"
"Pull!" without hesitating he obeyed the barked command, even as he did wondering why he did. Sure he probably would have anyways, but something about the way she'd given the command compelled him beyond simple obedience.
His target in the middle of the mech squad was caught by the biotic field and slowly floated upward. Shepard's fist flashed with dark energy, a warp curved unerringly toward the mech detonating on impact, destroying all the other mechs around it. The shattered mech clattered to the floor as Shepard rose to her feet, looking down at him pointedly. Then he realized her pistol was now pointed at him.
"Whoa, calm down now, Commander. I'm on your side-"
"No, you're not," she shook her head. "You're Cerberus."
"Let me at least explain," he set his pistol down slowly and spread his hands where she could see them. Quickly and concisely he described the Lazarus Project, her resurrection, the Alliance's reaction, and her squads survival with interjected questions from her.
"How long have you worked for Cerberus?" she demanded. This guy did not fit the other Cerberus she'd run into and killed.
"A few years. They're not what you think they are-"
"Yes, they are. My unit was wiped out by their experiment. They murdered Admiral Kohoku. Ambushed and killed his unit in another sick experiment. Slaughtered like mine. They thought breeding rachni was a good idea. That thorian creepers would make good shock troops."
Jacob was shaking his head. "Those were rogue cells. I've never been a part of or seen Cerberus participate in stuff like that." Loath as she was, Shepard was inclined to believe him. This guy seemed more soldier than scientist. Didn't mean he wasn't blind or naive, however.
"Fine," she relented, "I believe you believe Cerberus wasn't involved. But that doesn't mean they weren't. For now I won't shoot you. I have no idea where I am, I'm half naked, I'm starving, and there's mechs shooting at us both. 'My enemy of my enemy is my friend,' so someone once told me." She eyed him. "But don't get too comfortable." Jacob shrugged. It was an improvement from a gun in his face.
"Is there any armor around I could grab?"
He shook his head. "Armory's on the other side of the facility from the shuttles. We'd have to fight through an army of mechs to get there. I'm sure they secured that first anyways."
"Fine. This will have to do for now then."
"I'm going to pick up my pistol. We cool? Or are you still going to shoot me?
"That depends."
"On?"
"You."
=/=
"What the hell, Miranda?!" Jacob exclaimed as Wilson's brain matter splattered the room. "What're you doing?!"
"My job. Wilson was a traitor."
"Your point? I was going to extract who's behind this attack from him. Now I can't do that. A little convenient, wouldn't you say?" Shepard's pistol was level with Miranda's eye socket.
"Wait, Commander, you knew? About Wilson?" Jacob asked incredulously, though Shepard didn't look at him.
"His surprise on the comm at my being alive. I've been alive a while, wouldn't you agree? Just not conscious. Obviously he expected the mechs to have taken me out while I was unconscious. His directions always led us straight into waiting mechs, not patrolling ones. His gunshot wound was self-inflicted. The angle was wrong, it was the wrong size wound for the caliber the mechs use, and his pistol muzzle had blood on it. The people around him were dead, though there were no droid parts around and he was still alive. Two of the people were shot in the back of the head. Two others fell as though surprised by something other than mechs. Would you like me to continue?" Shepard tamped firmly down on the urge to shift uncomfortably as Miranda looked her up and down, as though inspecting her, very aware her thin shirt didn't hide much.
Though if Miranda was project lead she'd probably seen more of me than even I have, right? The thought only succeeded in creeping her out more.
"Keen observations," Miranda's eyes slid up and down her again and Shepard couldn't help the instant dislike for the other woman despite her apparent honest praise just then. She bit back a retort that any fool would have seen his treachery. Jacob obviously hadn't. Jacob was tolerable, she didn't want to burn any bridges yet.
"I did a good job," Miranda said smugly, finishing her appraisal of Shepard's figure, filling Shepard with the creeps. This was too much to process so soon. "How do you feel?"
"Angry."
Miranda gave her a deadpan look.
"My last memory was of spinning stars, burning in atmo, and suffocating. I've been yelled at, shot at, and found out the organization I used to destroy is the one that saved me. How the fuck do you think I feel? I've had enough of this facility to last a lifetime. Can we leave?"
"Two lifetimes, in your case. Come on."
Shepard resisted the overpowering urge to flick her on the face. She couldn't stand people who felt the need to get in the last word.
On the shuttle Miranda launched into the scientific questions, making sure her 'lab rat' had revived with memories intact. Shepard responded in short, sullen, clipped answers, offering nothing extra.
"Commander," Jacob interjected, "you don't seem happy to be alive again-"
"Yea? Well no one asked me for my opinion on the matter. Maybe I liked being dead."
Miranda and Jacob glanced at one another pointedly, neither willing to voice to the brooding woman that it was a physical impossibility to ask someone who's dead anything. Clearly she knew this. Cerberus knew resurrecting her was a gamble. Shepard hated Cerberus. Had made that clear on more than one occasion.
Miranda knew her mind had to be reeling. To die, then suddenly be alive, two years gone, and by an organization you went out of your way to eliminate, no less. The Lazarus lead watched her closely for signs of psychological cracking. Shepard was silent now, staring out the window at the passing stars. She looked pensive, almost sad, though totally placid and even. Probably processing. The scientist in Miranda wished she could hear Shepard's thoughts, how she was coping. The Cerberus in her worried. Shepard displayed a violent dislike of all of them. Again she wished the Illusive Man had let her use that chip.
In Shepard's head she began to methodically take hold of herself. It would take monumental amounts of time for the shock to wear off, but that was no excuse. Her behavior on the facility, though she would make no apologies, was very un-Commander of her. Being alive again was just such a shock, she hardly knew what to do with herself. It was as though all the pent up emotions from the past year (make that three years) had come frothing out, leaving her to try and control them.
In her head she carefully boxed those emotions, feelings, and tucked them away. Shepard was alive again. She wouldn't waste this. But two years. Her mind reeled. Where was everyone? What were they doing? Did they even remember her? Would they even care? Enough of that. Of course they would. Though the worry still nagged at her.
Two years.
It didn't seem possible.
=/=
Garrus 'Archangel' Vakarian rested on the floor under a window with his back against the wall, just thinking. Taloned hands fluttered across the sniper rifle that rested in his lap with the ease of a trained expert. His touches were almost loving, deadly fingers casually checking the weapon over for the umpteenth time.
Relaxing his grip he breathed deeply, closed his eyes, counted to three and in one smooth movement snapped them open, rose to a stable position in the window, popped off five well placed shots; his hands moved in a fluid dance across his weapon, replacing the overheated metal for each shot before he spun back to his casual sitting position. On the bridge five mercenaries fell dead. Ejecting his heat sink he considered his situation.
For quite some time Garrus had run a squad of his own and built a name for themselves on Omega, a seedy space port built into the bottom of a hollowed out asteroid. Omega made its own rules and as long as those rules didn't cross the currently ruling asari, Aria T'loak, then you were left to do business as you saw fit. If you had enough money and power it was law unto its own. The trade post was home to three major mercenary players in the Terminus System: the Blue Suns, the Blood Pack and the Eclipse. Garrus, having had enough of the Citadel and C-Sec's red tape and thousand year old rulebook, decided to carve his own niche taking down wrong doer's on Omega... which pretty much meant everyone. Messing with shipments, harassing and killing their agents, and ruining their deals became a favorite pastime of his eleven member squad team. One day things went horribly wrong resulting in the turian and one other being the last living members of his team. Thus was the reason for his current predicament.
'Archangel' became such a thorn in their side, to include killing the Eclipse leader's brother, that the three mercenary groups overcame immeasurable hatred for one another, banding together against him. Old quarrels were set aside and a tentative peace settled in the home camps of each mercenary faction. Utilizing their collective strengths, in essence pitting one another against him, they finally maneuvered him out of hiding.
Pinned down in a house overlooking a long bridge, doors sealed and the lower tunnels collapsed in. The only route in was the lovely bottle neck he had created using the bridge. He knew in the back of his mind that this was probably his last stand. That given enough time the team he knew was blasting their way through the collapsed tunnels would eventually overrun his position. He had efficiently taken out their gunship with one shot, a fact he was very proud of, mind you. But he knew they'd get it back in working order eventually as well. Which would get him first, the tunnels or the gunship... or both, he didn't know.
Garrus sighed in exasperation and fingered his weapon absently. Two years and he still couldn't forget her. Breathing deeply he spun, popped off another six mercenaries dumb enough to try the bridge again before resuming his former position. Ejecting the heat sink chamber more forcefully than he'd intended, he watched with partially unseeing eyes as it bounced, sizzling away to join the pile of discarded heat sinks he'd acquired. His hands methodically replaced it before coming to rest in his lap again.
Shepard had always... intrigued him. Had Alenko not been the main source of her attention he might have even fancied a deeper attachment to the spectre. Shaking his helmeted head he stared at the wall grimly. No, he was sure she never would have even considered him. A guy could dream though, right? POP. POP. POP. Three more bodies added to his collection on the bridge.
She was a brilliant military mind, an incredible shot, had more guts than any other soldier he'd met, turian or not... more balls too. Brutally ruthless and merciful heart in one being, the woman was an anomaly. The consequences of every action and possible outcome weighed on her heavily, and she filled out her uniform really nicely... for a human that is. Which was saying a lot. Until Shepard he had never even looked at a human with anything more than a passing glance. Asari were considered universally attractive. Though their physiology differed vastly from most of the other species, especially turian and krogan, they were oddly very similar to that of humans. The body type had never appealed to him before, having considered the two races too soft and 'squishy.' Shepard had been anything but squishy.
As he glowered at the wall across from him with more concentration than necessary, he reviewed the considerable amount she had taught him moving carefully away from any physical thoughts. The woman was tireless; she always appeared to have time for all her squad members. Often she would seek each one out individually to talk, even about small stuff like their families or to ask what was bothering them if they seemed down.
The spectre always had the perfect advice for every situation. Quite often he'd overheard her helping another squad member with their personal issues, her never ending font of knowledge and experience baffling him. She was the strength and glue behind the whole team. Without her they had all been lost.
He still remembered the first time she had shown up down in the armory bay. Hell, he remembered the first time he'd laid eyes on her, marching up the stairs in the wake of Executor Pallin, instantly giving him the impression this was a woman who got the job done. Her manner of doing so… differed from his own, but it was a way he'd grown greatly to respect before she'd died. A rueful smile lit his face as he remembered staying up late one night, he'd been a member of her crew only a few days, but their last outing had banged up the Mako pretty bad. One of the hydraulic stabilizers had shorted out and he was having difficulties getting it working again. Soft footfalls had him pausing in curiosity; it was well past the beginning of the normal sleep cycle, most of the ship had gone quiet. Who could possibly be coming down to the armory this late? Reflexively he'd tensed, his hand inched to his sidearm, knowing he was a turian on a human Alliance warship. He'd seen the expressions the Gunnery Chief shot him from her workbench across the way. Then when it was Shepard who'd appeared, sliding under the Mako, extra tools in hand, her jump suit sleeves rolled up, a small smile on her soft human face he was shocked to say the least.
At first he shared his thoughts with her reluctantly, but soon found himself looking forward to the times she would appear, ready to help fix something mechanical as well as his sometimes skewed morals. He liked her, more than he wanted to admit to, but it was there. It had very quickly become a running inside joke between the two of them that she was required to come down after their missions and help fix the significant damage she usually inflicted on the poor Mako. The turian would need to be blind to miss the jealous daggers Kaidan shot his way when Shepard would stop in passing to joke with him or share a comment only the two of them would understand. It wasn't just him though, so he didn't kid himself, Tali was just as close to her if not closer than he was.
As the search for Saren progressed he found it impossible to not become more attached to her. She was almost more like a turian than most turian women.
What he couldn't believe though was how quickly they all dropped her after her death as well as how little they had put into investigating what had happened to the Normandy. Every surviving crew member knew it was not the geth like the council claimed. The Council just wanted all her proclamations ended. No preparation for the Reapers, they wouldn't even acknowledge their existence, claiming the attack on the Citadel was 'an isolated incident.' He shook his head at their stupidity. It was like they were scrambling to undo all the good she'd done. The tide of denial and accusations was more than he or the rest of the alien crew could stand against, so he had disappeared to Omega, an attempt on his part to bring some good back. To honor her memory somehow.
Those had been terrible, depressing, and frustrating days for all of them. Shepard's squad all stood by her memory, screaming their anguish, sorrow and fury at the Council, the Alliance, and everyone who bad-mouthed the woman they'd all come to love, to no avail. Even her funeral had been tarnished by the knowledge that the Council was already burying everything she'd dug up, piece by piece. Sovereign was being called a 'geth warship.' The thing that stuck out in his mind the most was how Kaidan remained conspicuously quiet during the whole ceremony. Whispers of a coming promotion for the Alliance poster boy were already trickling down the line. It sickened him that Kaidan had folded so quickly to their pressure. The wreckage of the Normandy SR1 hadn't yet cooled and he'd already sold her out. Shepard would roll in her grave to know that the man who supposedly loved her had turned on her so quickly.
One by one, defeated by the sheer willpower of a galactic civilization that just wanted to forget, they had left. Tali went back to the floatilla. Liara disappeared into the crowds of Ilium. Wrex returned to Tuchanka. For all intents and purposes Joker had been the last person to see Garrus alive, for he fully expected he would not survive this mission, as exhausted as he was already. But Joker had been the only human on the crew worth stopping to say farewell to other than Chakwas before disappearing to the silence of the stars, to make his way to Omega.
The infuriating part was happening recently though. He thought he had accepted it, coped with her death and moved on, but lately he couldn't seem to get her out of his head. His wayward thoughts made him miss her, re-opening that hole in his life she'd left behind. It had been two years since he'd had someone to confide in and thinking of her only made the situation worse.
Snapping his rifle up, he wiped his thoughts aside, leaving nothing in his mind but his weapon and his targets. POP. POP. He was getting bored.
POP. POP... no it couldn't be.
Focusing through his scope he zoomed in on his new target as she gracefully vaulted over the barrier, immediately rolled behind cover, and took up a stance behind the new wave of mercenaries to come over the wall. Her form was precise as she nailed each mercenary in the back of the head with her high powered pistol, storming from barrier to barrier, now taking and returning fire from both ends of the bridge as she crossed. Shouts of "she's with Archangel" drifted on outraged voices to him bringing a turian style smile to his features. Effortless, graceful, biotic powers licked up her figure like blue fire, squad followed close behind, giving support. There was no doubt. But how?
Laying down opposing fire, he covered her as she traversed the bridge, but was unable to resist the urge. Briefly he switched to concussion rounds and popped her in the shoulder once right by the N7 insignia, enjoying her surprised glance up at him, those beautiful, clear blue eyes about took his breath away, before he switched back to his lethal rounds and real targets.
Falling into a relaxed stance he dispatched the rest of the mercenary resistance dumb enough to show their presence while the object of his thoughts made her way up to him.
"Archangel?" her voice was like music to his ears and an amused smile spread across his features as only a turian can smile, hidden by his helmet and visor. She didn't know it was him! Finishing off his targets he casually stood, making sure he was still behind cover and leaned against a nearby sofa, propping his foot on the furniture ahead of him, his arm draped across his knee. As he slowly reached up and removed his helmet he watched the play of emotion across Shepard's lovely face. Usual caution and a touch of aggression reserved for those she wished to intimidate was replaced by open mouthed amazement then a huge grin.
"Shepard."
"Garrus! What the hell are you doing here?!" with practiced ease she holstered her heavy pistol before she strode over and grabbed him up in a huge hug, one he leaned into with more enthusiasm than was probably appropriate, her familiar smell engulfed him, bringing back the ache.
As she stepped back the changes she'd undergone hit him hard. She seemed stronger, a lot stronger and had a network of odd incision type scars across her cheeks and forehead. The thing that bothered him the most though was the small Cerberus symbol on her companion's uniforms as well as stamped on some of their weapons. To his relief none of Shepard's gear bore the symbol, but still... Shepard and Cerberus?
"You popped me pretty good on my way up here," she said, rolling her shoulder, mock accusation in her voice.
"You were taking your sweet time, I had to get you moving," he chuckled. "Besides, concussion rounds, no harm done."
Shepard raised an eyebrow. "Uh huh," she smiled.
"If I'd wanted to do more than take your shields down, I'd have done it…" his gut tightened as she raised her eyebrow with a smile, crossing her arms across her chest.
"That sounded like a challenge to me," she quipped, a small smile graced her scarred features.
He chuckled. "How about we get me out of here alive and I'll test your shield strength all day," his stomach did a few more flip flops when she grinned and nodded.
With a smile he briefly explained his situation with the mercenaries. Shepard leaned against the back of a sofa, arms crossed over her armored chest, a small smile played across her lips. When he finished she shook her head with an impish grin.
"Archangel, huh?" she questioned and Garrus shrugged a little embarrassedly.
"A name given to me by those I've helped, it kinda stuck," he shrugged again sheepishly before taking cover and double checking his mercenary friend's progress through his scope. He handed his rifle to Shepard, letting her take stock of the wave of mechs clamoring over the barricade. The sudden boom of his rifle discharging caused him to look down at the smaller woman sharply as she handed him his rifle, a pleased grin on her features before informing him they were one less. The woman was wreaking havoc on his equilibrium.
"Indeed," was all he could manage before the team fell into action, eliminating the oncoming targets, easily dropping them all before they made it to the base.
"They've got something up their sleeve, other than their failed infiltration team, I just know it," a sudden explosion beneath them seemed to rock the very foundations of the building.
"What in hells name was that?" Miranda asked as Garrus frowned checking his omni-tool.
"Damnit! I knew they'd make it through those tunnels eventually, but I'd been hoping it wouldn't be so soon. Well, I knew they had to use their collective brains at some point. Shepard, I'm best suited to holding the bridge and taking any out that try to cross, feel like ruining a few mercenaries days?" he was rewarded with a feral grin as she pulled her M-6 Carnifex Hand Cannon and snapped on a heat sink. His chest tightened slightly at her antics, reminding him how keenly he had missed her.
How many countless times before had she pulled his ass out of the fire? Now, two years after her own death it was as though he'd willed her into existence at his greatest time of need. Like his own personal badass guardian angel. Quickly she ordered the man Jacob to stick with Garrus and took the female, Miranda, obviously a powerful biotic, with her. As they disappeared down the back stairs he turned his attention back to the bridge, picking off the new force of mercenaries who decided to tempt fate through the scope of his rifle.
Selydra Shepard motioned for Miranda to follow and took the stairs down three at a time, she dashed to the door behind them, ensuring cover was available as she went. Her mind was swimming with the knowledge that one of her most trusted compatriots was actually 'Archangel,' abruptly she shoved her elation aside for after the mission. Currently she had a turian to protect. Crossing through the room beyond, she caught sight of a blast shield door that was open in the next room. Garrus sounded in over the comm.
"Shepard, there are three blast doors, closing those would cut off any mercenary attempt to enter the base for quite some time," his voice was like music in her ears.
"Got it," storming her way across the room, she took cover at the last second as a Blood Pack krogan and a few vorcha rounded the corner and began laying down fire. Biotic blasts flew by her, crippling and overloading their shields as Shepard popped out from cover and picked them off one by one, making her way slowly to the door. Slamming the button with her fist she was rewarded with a 10 second countdown until the door closed. More krogan and vorcha swarmed down the hallway in an attempt to reach the closing portal, the spectre tripped them up with fire until the door slammed shut with a hiss.
Changing direction they made their way to the second and third doors, each one more difficult to clear the rabble away from, but they managed without injury and many casualties on their enemy's part. Just as the last door hissed shut with a bang she heard Garrus' voice sound statically over the comm.
"Shepard, it looks like they're preparing for another bridge assault, you'd better get up here," the formerly deceased spectre was already in motion, sprinting her way back through the hallways and stairs in time to take cover in the lobby.
"They're sending in the mech," Jacob chuckled, missing the odd look Garrus gave his shoulder.
"You know I have complete confidence in your abilities, Shepard, but why is he laughing about a heavy mech?" Garrus questioned over the comm, rewarded by a feminine chuckle on the other end.
"Oh, I may have... leaned on the console on accident and... you know, inadvertently reprogrammed the targeting parameters for the mech."
Garrus outright laughed. "My sneaky savior!"
Shepard felt an inexplicable warmth spread through her at the familiar term and she shoved it aside to focus on the confused mech and equally confused and upset mercenaries. The heavy mech was, at the current moment, tearing into any organic tissue that moved around it. The leader of the Eclipse had also slunk his way across the bridge and into their makeshift base. Miranda locked the salarian down with her biotics and the two whittled away his shields and barriers, keeping the bitter man confused and off balance until he eventually fell.
"Shepard, you'd better get up here... damnit! I thought I took that damn thing out of commission!" the whine of a gunship engine, heavy gunfire, a grunt from Garrus and the roaring of her own blood pounding in her ears consumed her as she sprinted for all she was worth back through the hallways, the biotic trailing behind, attempting to keep up. She burst into the room overlooking the bridge, a spray of heavy machinegun fire forced her to dive for cover, the ammunition ripped the furniture apart as she flattened herself against the floor, sofa fluff and wood chips fell like rain. Frantic blue eyes finally caught sight of Garrus and her heart sank into her stomach.
"GARRUS!" panic choked her as she crawled her way to his side, omni-tool lit his wounds orange as she briefly scanned him. From the looks of it he'd taken fire and a partial explosion, the blue blood smear on the floor signaled his attempt to drag himself behind cover. Anger welled up within her, ripples of dark energy coursed through her nervous system as she ensured he was secure behind the metal end table.
No. No! She would not lose him so soon after getting him back! She needed Garrus... that thought would need to be examined later. With an angry grunt she unleashed hell on the gunship and the mercenaries offloading into the room.
Rage filled her completely as she stowed her weapon and pulled her armor piercing sidearm; the spectre barraged the weaker spots on the gunship, trading off shooting and blasting it with warp when her heat sink overloaded. Gradually the armor protecting the engines broke down and she picked off the occasional mercenary when she felt Miranda and Jacob needed a hand.
Swarms of Blue Suns mercenaries leapt from the gunship through the shattered windows giving the Cerberus duo plenty to do while Shepard pummeled the gunship with her pistol, snapping on a new heat sink when hers ejected.
With a rage triumphant growl at seeing the armor plating on the gunship damaged, she put her pistol away and began assembling her M-920 Cain, fastening each piece onto the heavy weapon and finally popped a heat sink onto it before she chambered a heavy round. All she had wad three shots. At this point the spectre was practically on top of her unconscious charge, having taken up a halfway-straddling his ribcage defensive stance in an effort to protect him against any falling debris or gunfire.
As she snapped the weapon together, her movement must have jarred the turian and he returned to consciousness for a few moments. The confused agent opened his eyes to a very shapely set of legs spanning his ribcage, the shorter woman just barely capable of clearing his width. His eyes traveled up the length of those legs, past her curvy hips where his eyes continued upward, rolling into the back of his head and he passed out again.
Cain finally ready, she flipped the digital sight open and took aim, the weapon hummed a few moments as it powered up before there was a soft whistle, a thunk, then a huge explosion that rocked the side of the gunship. Listing badly, the airborne vehicle attempted to turn and retreat, but the human woman was faster. Reloading she aimed, warmed up and fired, the shot took the gunship right through the open door as it turned, effectively killing the leader of the Blue Suns as well as reducing the gunship to a descending mass of flaming debris.
Tossing her weapon back on her shoulder harness the concerned human's hands fluttered over Garrus as she kneeled by his side. The turian's bright blue eyes snapped open, his breathing way too gargled to be healthy, his taloned hand tightened on the barrel of his sniper rifle.
"Garrus! Joker!" she yelled into the comm, "have the Normandy brought around and be ready for us! We need to get him to Chakwas immediately!"
Garrus was too heavy for the slight woman alone, so she helped support him with Jacob on the other side, the turian hanging feebly between them, trailing more blue blood than would be considered healthy. Not that losing blood was ever healthy. That and according to the mercs he'd been on alert and pinned down for over a day. Twenty four plus hours with no sleep was a strain on anyone's system, without taking a rocket to the face.
"Come on, Garrus, stick with me," she didn't like how wet his breathing sounded. Chakwas came running up as they half dragged the injured turian onto the crew quarters deck. The doctor's omni-tool flashed as she walked backwards, analyzing his injuries as they hauled him to the med bay.
"Garrus, we've got a whole ton more people we've gotta shoot, you and I. Just because I was forced into a 'dirt-nap' retirement doesn't mean you get to take one too," the blue blood he snorted onto his face and chest plate showed Shepard he was conscious enough to understand her and was listening. She smiled despite herself. They laid him out on the table and Shepard helped Chakwas remove the charred and damaged armor.
Garrus gurgled, obviously trying to say something.
"Quit yer yammering for once and hold still. Chakwas will fix you up in no time," she promised with more conviction than she felt. Garrus had been hit bad. Her stomach tightened at the sight of his pain glossed eyes as they relaxed more under the sedatives Chakwas was pumping him with.
Garrus meant the world to her... if she lost him... she refused to dwell on it. She hovered by his head while Chakwas went to work.
"You'll be fine, Garrus. I need you.. at my back. Things... well let's just say my world makes a lot more sense with you and that sniper rifle there with me. Now, rest up and get fixed. That's an order." She wasn't sure if he could hear her or not as he didn't respond, so she left Chakwas to her work and went to clean up.
The next day found Shepard and Jacob in the debriefing room, the commander looked zoned out as he gave her his report. The sound of the door hissing open interrupted Jacob's debrief and Shepard smiled when she saw who it was.
"Speak of the devil, we were just talking about you," she said, her grin widening as Garrus strode into the room amicably.
"No one will give me a mirror, how bad is it?" he asked, gingerly touching the reconstructed part of his face.
"Hell, Garrus, you were always ugly. Slap some face paint on it and no one will know the difference," Shepard shot back, barely containing her grin as Garrus let out a bark of laughter then a groan, putting his hand back up to his face.
"Oh, don't make me laugh, my face is barely holding together as it is," he complained and she smiled, glad to have her old turian friend back. "Some women like men with scars… granted most of those women are krogan…" he glanced at her pointedly and waited while Jacob took the hint, saluting her and excusing himself. Once the door slid shut he regarded her carefully.
"Frankly I'm more worried about you. Cerberus, Shepard, really? I don't have to remind you…" he trailed off as she nodded, a sigh escaped her as she crossed her arms, turning to lean back on the briefing table. She stared blankly at the wall a moment.
"That's why I'm glad you're here, Garrus," she looked over at him, heartfelt relief in her eyes. "I need someone I can trust at my back if I'm headed into the hell they say I am," she gazed at him.
"You realize this has me headed into hell with you…" the complaintive tone he was attempting failed miserably and she grinned as he chuckled. He couldn't help himself, his eyes lingered a moment too long on the scars on her face and she sighed again.
"I died, Garrus. Cerberus rebuilt me," she shifted uncomfortably, not meeting his eyes. "They've spent the last two years doing just that apparently," she glanced in his direction, still not meeting his eyes.
"Well apparently they're not very good… your scars…" his voice trailed off again and she chuckled humorlessly.
"Dr. Chakwas says those will heal with time. They had no choice but to wake me ahead of schedule. The facility had been compromised and was under attack when I awoke," her voice was disturbingly devoid of emotion.
"The facility was under attack? That's… you know I'd have thought after how you ruthlessly hunted down their facilities that Cerberus would want you dead… not bring you back to life," he crossed his arms, his mandibles clicked indicating his mind was elsewhere.
"No kidding, especially with what I cost them to rebuild. The Normandy too. We both got upgraded apparently," at her lackluster tone he looked at her curiously.
"You don't think they… modified you in any harmful ways… do you?" he asked cautiously.
"I don't think so, Miranda said the Illusive Man told her to bring me back exactly as I was," her tone made it clear what she thought of that.
"Shepard you're… you're not unhappy they brought you back… are you?" the thought that she might prefer to be dead had never occurred to him. The pressure she had been under had been significant after all.
"No, I'm grateful for another chance at life… really I am… it's the strings attached to it that bother me," she glanced up at him, almost a tired smile on her face. Psychologically something had changed. Shepard was much more open and emotionally easier to read… or maybe it was just him.
"Regardless, me and my sniper rifle are fit for duty whenever you need me," he chirped and she covered her face with her hand, looking between her fingers at him, her palm covering her embarrassed smile.
"So you heard that huh?" she asked, feeling her cheeks burn slightly.
"Oh, yea, but I'll go easy on you for once and give you a little embarrassment back: the feeling was mutual. The galaxy sure didn't make sense without you either. I think I got so used to how well we worked together in combat that I forgot how to fight on my own or with other people for a while," he admitted and she smiled a beautiful, genuine smile that truly melted his heart a little, that ever present ache of the past few years replaced by another more pleasant ache. "Anyways," he said quickly, clearing his throat, "I'll be down in the forward battery seeing what I can do with the Normandy's armaments. I'm sure someone messed something up somewhere," she nodded at him and he turned to leave.
"Garrus," she called and he looked back at her from the door, "what's said in the med bay stays in the med bay?" she asked with an impish smile.
He nodded with his own turian style smile and disappeared, leaving her to her thoughts. He definitely needed the solace of the forward battery to sort out his own chaotic thoughts.