Title: Acceptable Loss (Part 1 of 3)
Author: skybound2
Characters: FemShep/Garrus (with FemShep/Thane and FemShep/Kaidan)
Word Count: ~9300 this chapter
Rating: M
Summary: In war - soldiers die. But when its someone you love...well, that's an entirely different story altogether.
Spoilers: Through end game.
Author's Note: Ahhh, mass kinkmeme, where would I be without you? This piece certainly never would have happened, that's for sure! As you might expect, this was written in response to a prompt over at the kinkmeme that requested the following: A Shep that has romanced Kaidan (and possibly lost him on Virmire), and then romanced Thane, only to have him die post-Collector's base. Enter A Garrus BFF who has been secretly in love with our Commander this whole time. Cue comfort sex with bonus' for guilt, pity, and a happy ending. Well - I think I got it all! I'm currently working on revising this whole thing, so the version you guys see here will be much cleaner and more coherent than what was posted there. And looking to be longer as well. 'Cause I can't shut up. Hopefully that's not a bad thing ;-P
Warnings: In case you couldn't tell, this piece contains character deaths (both referenced and directly). I do my best to be respectful of that. As such, this fic does NOT just gloss over the impact Thane's (and Kaidan's) death has on Shepard. There are parts of this story that are, accordingly, a bit dark. There are aspects of how Shepard deals with grief, guilt, and healing in the wake of a loved one's death.
Acceptable Loss
Shepard's not a stranger to losing people. People enter your life one day, and can be shipped out just as easily the next. She'd known that her whole life. Hell, it'd been impossible not to, being shifted from ship to ship with her mother's tour of duty as she'd done her whole childhood.
Then, of course, there was the more permanent reassignment that occurred when a friend or colleague took a stray shot. Or a well aimed one. Death in the line of duty was always on the periphery when you joined with the Alliance. Ugly. Harsh. But expected.
Losses such as these were familiar to Shepard. They were logical. Acceptable. If not always easy to deal with. But she figured if that was the price you paid for caring for people, then so be it.
The first time that her belief in the acceptability of loss had been challenged had occurred on Virmire. Kaidan Alenko. Kind, intelligent Kaidan. With tentative sweetness, and a smile that made her toes curl and her palms sweat. He'd reminded her of simpler times, even when the whole universe seemed to be on the fast-track to hell all around them.
By the time they'd landed on that tropical paradise, the tension between them had brewed to near-boiling. She knew that if they'd been given more time, just a minuscule amount in the grand scheme of things, that tension - that heat - would have lead to a cataclysmic explosion the likes of which had never before been seen.
She'd imagined it almost nightly in her dreams after his death.
Sometimes it was frantic. Rough. Tearing at one another's clothing to get to the skin beneath. Leaving harsh welts shaped like teeth and nails as evidence to their passion across the canvas of each other's skin.
Often, it was soft. Sweet. Long lingering caresses. Those dark-bedroom eyes staring at hers with such intensity, that she'd have to blink them away, lest she'd burst. The slick feel of his skin rubbing against hers, the heavy pads of his fingertips ghosting between her thighs. A slow simmer that would leave her breathless for hours after she awoke.
And she always woke. And they were forever only dreams.
In the days following Virmire, Shepard had walked in a daze. The ship hurdled ever faster on the path to Saren, but she was numb. Frozen. Her mind still on that god-forsaken planet, with the echo of an impossible choice ringing in her ear.
She hadn't known how to deal with a loss that she was the perpetrator of back then. Not really. The Alliance hailed her as a hero after Elysium, but it had really just been dumb luck. Dumb luck that her team had survived, and she'd gotten to walk away unscathed. It hadn't prepared her for the reality of soldiers - friends - dying under her command.
It was a harsh lesson to learn.
It had been Garrus, that damn idealistic turian, that had brought her out of the mental tailspin she'd been in. Shown up at her door when they were en route to Ilos, an awful elcor-hanar vid in hand (the memory of which she had blocked out almost entirely, thankyouverymuch), a bar of carob ("I know it's not that chocolate stuff that you're always going on about Commander, but Williams swore this was a decent substitute. And hell, its gotta be better than most of the slop that we eat, right?"), and an absolutely will-not-take-no-for-an-answer attitude in place.
It was the first time she'd laughed in ages. And all it had taken was an observant friend, some not-quite-chocolate, and a video of a surf-board riding elcor (okay, so maybe she hadn't blocked it out entirely – it had its moments after all) to make it happen.
He'd returned time and time again to her room, and they would make a night of it. Watching awful vids - sometimes at his suggestion, sometimes hers. Talking about nothing at all - just filling up the space between them with as many words as they could manage - until one or both of them would fall asleep sitting in uncomfortable positions in desk chairs, or on the floor. Once or twice she had awoken to find her head pillowed on his thigh, his talons carting through the mess of her hair. Offering her comfort the only way that he could while she slept.
He'd become a dear friend to her by the end of that mission.
The dreams of Kaidan didn't stop of course. Garrus' friendly insertion into her solitude had done wonders, but it hadn't worked miracles. But after that, when the dream's came, she mostly woke with a smile, rather than nausea.
It'd been a hell of an improvement.
~~~\/~~~
The months that followed had been a whirlwind. And while there were losses (choosing to save the council had been difficult, but she was certain it had been the right call), she was able to file them all under acceptable. Expected. Honorable.
Then she'd died.
Surprisingly, she felt very little one way or another about that particular death. If nothing else, her time chasing Saren had taught her that there were worse things in the universe than being spaced.
~~~\/~~~
She'd been killed, resurrected, and sent off after the collectors in only a heart's beat of time. Never mind the missing two years in between. It had all happened so fast that she had been able to do little else but accept it, and soldier on.
Like the consummate soldier that she was, she did it with a success rate of 100%.
Her team had been powerful. Prepared. Loyal. And most importantly – effective. She'd spent countless hours with every member of her squad. Learning about them – their histories, their motives. Building friendships and trust. And despite her resistance. Despite her better judgment, she'd even gone and done the unthinkable.
She'd fallen in love.
In the end though, all of the hard-work, dedication, and even the occasional near-misses and screw-ups had paid off. The Collectors had tumbled like leaves in the wind to the well-oiled machine that was her squad. Unimaginably, they'd even taken down one monstrous looking Reaper with no losses among the team or crew. (It was unfortunate that the colonists hadn't been saved. But, it was not unexpected.) This time, it wasn't just dumb luck that got them all out alive.
Luck had let her down too often in the past for her to trust it with anything so important these days. Older and wiser and all that.
Nothing she had learned, however, none of the experiences she'd had, none of the pain she had suffered, prepared her what came next. Riding high on their success, and mentally preparing for the battle to come, she'd managed to block out the looming reality that was Thane's advancing illness.
He'd made it so easy to do so. And there was nothing to prepare her for watching someone she loved slide inexplicably towards a death that she couldn't prevent. To watch their body fester and fold under an enemy as ethereal as the air itself.
It weighed on her mind how she'd ignored the signs. Made her wonder if they could have extended his time somehow. But he had always been quiet. Preferring to observe rather then interact. She loved how each word he spoke was always carefully measured. Its implications, its intentions clearly laid out. It gave them a weight that careless conversation could never hope to achieve.
And at night – at night he put dreams of the imaginary Kaidan to shame. The reality of him, skin that prickled under the slightest touch. Gentle ridges that flared when her fingers skated over them. The liquidy taste of his kiss – cool, velvet tongue tangled with hers. The heady sensation of his sweat bursting across her lips, and the kaleidoscope of colors it caused to dance before her eyes.
Every moment, every single second, drawn out for maximum impact. Night after night they would curl their bodies together. He would slip between her legs, or she would slide onto his lap. His hands, so alien and yet so utterly familiar, would grip the skin of her hips. Reverently. The control that he had was unsurpassed (at least in Shepard's experience). The way that he would thrust into her languidly for what felt like ages, dangling her over the precipice. Again and again and again. His merged fingers rubbing in concentric circles; pressing against her in masterful strokes – until she'd be near to sobbing for release.
She had never known peace before like she did when she fell asleep in his arms. One leg strewn over his, and her hand pressed to his chest. The strange off-beat sound emanating from within would lull her to slumber, while the stars zoomed by overhead.
~~~\/~~~
While most nights they slept, enjoying one another in silence, some nights he would talk with her; little moments of precious insight. She knew that with him, even the most innocuous of talks had a defined purpose.
"There is a story, Siha. Of a warrior. Long she lives, wandering between worlds, joining in battle after battle. Always winning. But she never settles, or grows old. Although she can bring death to many, she herself is denied this. Static as the stars. An unwhole being. She longs to find the missing part of herself.
"One day, she meets a young man across the field of battle. He is worn, his body broken, his chance of survival minute. But he entrances her all the same. She steals away with him, nursing him back to health. And with him, she finds the soul that she longed for; the other piece of herself. His love for her is true, and unending. And together, they are unstoppable. But he is mortal; and a day comes when he returns to the sea.
"Untold time goes by, and she lives, incomplete. Waiting for his return. But he does not come. The sea does not return that which it takes."
She'd remembered being confused by both the timing and the content of the tale, even if she had enjoyed every moment of its recital in that melodious voice of his. She had always been dense when it came to things like that, even Ashley's poetry had always gone over her head; but in that blissful state post-phenomenal sex she could barely recall her name, let alone understand literary metaphors. "That's depressing, Thane. Maybe something a little more uplifting post-coital from now on."
He'd hummed, whether in agreement or disagreement, she couldn't say. But she'd felt a bit guilty, and slightly curious. So her voice sleepy, and eyes heavy, she'd questioned him on its meaning.
"Forever is a long time, Siha."
That had made her smile, "that's the generally accepted definition, yeah." He'd pressed a kiss to her forehead, and pulled her more tightly to him. Sleep had been calling, so she'd filed away her questions for some other time.
~~~\/~~~
It was not so many days after that when she'd lifted her head from the pillow, and reached out a hand to Thane to nudge him awake, amazed that he'd slept through the obnoxious bed-side alarm (designed to blast like an Earthborn rooster at 0500 every day).
But he hadn't awoken. He lived still – but his breaths were shallow; a rasping, watery sound emanated from his lungs. Even as the irregular beat of his heart stumbled weakly in between.
Panicked, she'd summoned both Chakwas and Mordin, barely having sense enough to throw on a shirt before their arrival. They'd carted Thane down to the med-bay, plugging him into devices that Shepard thought more suitable for medieval torture chambers then a spaceship. His veins were pumped full of more meds than she imagined his blood could hold, but still he slept.
Days had trailed into weeks. Time impossible to chart as she stayed by his bedside as often as she could manage (which was far more than she probably should, though Miranda never once complained - the crew was still working on deciphering the Collector base's information after all, and they had some down time available).
By his side, she'd sat in silence, hand clasped around his. Stroking her thumb down his skin - unsure if he could feel her there. Wishing that she could tell him stories the way he'd always told her, but she was awful at that sort of thing. (Impassioned speeches were more her speed.)
And each day, she'd watched the bright hue of his skin fade to a dull, sickly mockery of the vibrant color it once was.
~~~\/~~~
Garrus would come almost daily as well. He'd sit with Thane when Shepard had duties that had to be attended to - understanding that she didn't want him left alone - but mostly he showed up under the guise of providing her with food. ("You know, Shepard, the mess hall is right outside the window. I'm sure that Gardner would be willing to bring you something, if you would just hit the comm button once in awhile.") Some days it would be an apple or a pear - which he would leave her to eat in peace. Other times, he'd show up just after dinner, a tray in each hand, and join her in her quiet vigil.
Once, he'd shown up late in the night (she had taken to spending most of them on the cot next to Thane's – the bed in her loft felt far too lonely now), with an actual honest-to-goodness chocolate sundae in hand, complete with cracked nuts and fudge topping.
"Where in God's name did you get this, Garrus!" She'd been shocked; awed, and absolutely thrilled at the prospect of eating the thing. He had positively preened at her reaction. Mandibles flared out in a fashion she had long-ago identified as a mix of pride and happiness.
"The last time we docked at the Citadel. I got a lead on a new shop that opened up on the lower levels of Zakera Ward. Specializes in human foodstuffs. I don't know if its any good, but it better be, considering the credits that asari charged me. Gardner helped put it all together though, I can't imagine the travesty that it would have been if I'd attempted it instead."
Her mouth had dropped open, jaw aiming for the floor. "You- I can't believe- that was over three weeks ago, Garrus! Hell, that was before..." And just as quickly as it had started, her good mood had begun to evaporate - her eyes drawn back to the drell laying motionless by her side. The rhythmic beating of the machines attached to him echoed obnoxiously in the sudden silence. A breath of air tore its way through her lungs, and she felt her chin tremble, just the once, as she tried to will Thane's eyes to open.
A light touch upon her forearm brought her attention back to Garrus. Shamefully, she'd nearly forgotten he was there. His hand lingered on her skin, the warmth from the bare talons pulsated through her, helping to ground her to the here and now.
Once he seemed to be certain he had her attention, he slowly retracted the hand, although the palm of it ghosted lightly against her side as it dropped. His voice was subdued, the flanging effect deepened as a result. "I know. I just thought you'd appreciate a nice treat. I remember the way Ash and you always reverted to children when you'd just catch a glimpse of the stuff. Couldn't imagine how you'd react if you actually got to eat some. Thought it might be fun for the infamous Commander Shepard to...drop your hair down? Is that the saying?"
"Heh. Close enough."
"Would have given it to you right away, but things were a bit hectic, and then well..." His shoulders had lifted and fallen in a half shrug as his voice trailed off, the implication of what had happened next clear to them both."I thought maybe you could use it now."
It amazed her how much easier to read he was now, compared to when they'd first met. There was still much she was sure was missed in translation, their two species so divergent from one another as they were, but the look in his cobalt eyes was unmistakable as he awaited her reaction. He was both hopeful, and concerned.
And he had a slowly melting sundae in one hand.
"Oh! Garrus, here! Give me that before it drips all over you." She'd quickly swiped the thing out of his grip, and wiped a finger along his wrist, where a little dollop had fallen. She'd sucked the drop off of her fingertip without any thought. The delicious taste of the concoction had exploded on her taste buds so suddenly, that she'd been helpless to stop her eyes from closing, or from moaning out loud in sheer delight.
When she'd opened them and saw Garrus' slack jawed face, she'd blushed. She could only imagine what he must have thought of her display. "Uh...sorry."
He'd shaken his head once, the med-bay light bouncing off his fringe as he did, "I take it that was a good reaction?"
She'd given him an awkward smile, "Most certainly."
He breathed a sigh in what she assumed was relief, and stood from his chair. "Well then, my work here is done. Enjoy it Shepard, and..." He'd glanced up to Thane's prone figure, eyes lingering for a moment before resting on her once more. "Try and get some sleep."
She'd acquiesced to his request with a nod, and he'd hesitated a moment before reaching out and giving her shoulder a subtle squeeze.
She'd felt oddly bereft when he had gone. The taste of the chocolate not nearly as appetizing with only her unconscious lover to share it with.
~~~\/~~~
Several more days had ticked on by, with no forward progress in Thane's condition. And the pitying glances that Chakwas would grant her daily were grating on her nerves. She felt like nothing was being done to save him! Like everyone was just waiting, allowing his body to wither away like some...like some husk. And she couldn't stomach it any longer. She was damn well not going to sit by for another moment, and hope that Mordin was doing his job in the lab.
Angry. Frustrated. Ready to wreak havoc on anyone that got in her way, she had stormed from the med-bay, not bothering to find someone to sit with Thane, and ridden the damnably slow elevator to Mordin's lab. She'd torn into the salarian. Giving him a verbal lashing built out of desperation and fear. Demanding action. Requiring unreasonable results. She was still ranting in that lab when Thane's body finally gave out.
She'd left him to die all alone. And she would never forgive herself.
~~~\/~~~
Garrus was at a loss. It had been three days since the drell had succumbed to his illness. Three days, and Shepard had yet to show signs of acceptance. She'd returned to the CIC before his body was even cold, read through the vast backlog of unread messages on her terminal, and directed Joker to follow the coordinates to some outer-edge planet where a shipment of eezo had gone missing. Not a word was spoken about what had just taken place. What she had lost.
Three days, and she'd yet to contact Kolyat, or make arrangements for Thane's funeral. The turian had no idea what was typical for a drell when they died, but he knew that remaining in the cold storage area of the Normandy was not an acceptable long-term solution.
Garrus wanted nothing more than to go to her (she had finally returned to her cabin at night). Wanted to talk with her, or sit in silence. Wrap his arms around her, or wait patiently for her to blabber about nothing of importance like they use to do. Wanted to help the ice encasing her melt away. Wanted to simply be near her. The real her. Not this detached facsimile that was haunting the ship.
If she had reacted poorly when Kaidan had died, than this was a thousand times worse. And he had no clue what to do about it. He somehow couldn't imagine that cheesy vids, or sweet-tasting snacks were going to fix things this time.
He figured that he had no choice but to wait it out. Wait for her to ease into her grief on her own terms. And be there when she needed him.
It's all he'd ever wanted to give her after all. Time. His attention. His assistance. Him.
He'd long since accepted the emotions he held for the woman. His commanding officer, and closest friend. They had snuck up on him at first. Tiny, stumbling steps that lead him to the realization that somewhere along the line trust and respect and friendship had evolved into something deeper, more far-reaching and enduring for him.
He'd never been in love before. Life in the military hadn't allowed for long-lasting relationships, and every moment in C-Sec had been an exercise in frustration - there'd been no one there he'd really connected with (the odd short-term companion, notwithstanding). So while he couldn't say for certain that what he felt for Shepard was love, he also couldn't identify it as anything else.
If pressed, and horribly drunk, he may have admitted to a lingering resentment over her relationship with the assassin. He'd been confused, and somewhat hurt initially, when she had confessed to him her growing feelings for the drell. She'd known the man for such a short time, and Garrus couldn't quite grasp how she had fallen for him. He seemed so reserved. So quiet. Nothing like the boisterous extrovert that Shepard was on most days. (He could easily recall at least two separate occasions when it had been necessary to scoop Shepard's intoxicated body off of a bathroom floor, after she'd engaged in drinking games while at the Citadel. He couldn't imagine the drell ever letting his guard down so much.)
And yes, there was the matter of him not being human. It made Garrus wonder why, if Shepard was going to enter into a relationship with someone of another species, why it was the drell. Or, more specifically, why it wasn't him. Why she would forever see him as nothing more than a friend.
But she was happy. So obviously, blissfully happy, that he felt awful for begrudging her that, even for a moment. True, the knowledge of how she was spending her nights was a bitter pill for the turian, but it was better to deal with that, than it had been to deal with her being dead.
Her death and resurrection had brought everything into sharp focus, and he knew that he would follow her anywhere - even to hell and back (they'd managed that a few times already) - no matter her feelings for Thane. It didn't matter to him that she was human. Didn't matter to him that his feelings would forever solidify him as a 'bad turian'. Didn't matter that she would never feel for him what he felt for her.
None of that mattered. What mattered was that she remained in his life, in whatever capacity. And that he was there for her, whenever she needed him.
~~~\/~~~
Of course the recovery of the stolen eezo shipment couldn't have gone smoothly. As soon as the shuttle had touched down on the planet's surface, EDI had blared through their comms and informed them that scans had identified a Blood Pack base nearby.
And by nearby, what she meant was, directly in front of them, with only an over-sized thorn bush in between. (Garrus was highly irritated that the blasted AI hadn't been able to figure that out before they landed, what good was telling them once they were practically nose to nose with the suckers?)
Any other day, and the mission would have been a cut and dry run. Shepard would have directed Garrus to find a sniping spot, and then her and Thane would have skirted the boundaries of the merc base tossing out well-timed warps and overloads. The three would work in unison to take down the heavily armored krogan, and have been back onboard the Kodiak with the eezo in hand before lunch.
But it wasn't any other day. And Thane was dead. Instead, Shepard had brought along Mordin; and nothing was balanced right.
The scientist was brilliant at everything he did, but what he couldn't do was knock out the krogan regenerative abilities with relative ease. He also didn't mesh with Shepard's style particularly well. The three were floundering, overwhelmed by sheer numbers and poor strategy. And Shepard was losing it.
"Damn it, Mordin! Get your ass back here and shock these bastards!"
"On my way. Need to deal with current problem. Three to one odds. Not good."
Garrus had popped off two more shots in quick succession, taking out one of the ugliest krogan's he'd ever seen, before swiveling his rifle to the right, where he'd promptly caught sight of the still ranting Shepard in his scope. Spirits! what is she doing? The woman was launching herself out of cover, spraying the area in front of her wildly with her SMG before diving towards another bit of cover further forward, Making a weaving zig-zag pattern for the door. Was she planning to infiltrate the base through the front door? By herself?
"Shepard - you need to fall back. I won't be able to cover you if you keep pressing forward." He waited, talon itching on the trigger as he tried to get a clear shot off on one of the mercs, but Shepard's head kept getting in the way. "Shepard! Fall back!"
The sound of a crackling comm filled with only labored breathing was his response.
"Damn it!" She wasn't responding. Wasn't paying a lick of attention, and she had no one to get her six from that position. An awful feeling was fermenting in his gut, and before he had time to think it through, he slung the sniper over his shoulder, and vaulted over the wall in front of him.
The fall to the ground was a doable seven meters, but it still rattled his knees when he hit the dirt below. He swung his head upward and to the right, and caught sight of the sun shimmering off Shepard's armor at his three, as she virtually threw herself into the direct line of fire. Her comm was off, but he could hear the battle cry screaming out of her. Her shots were going wild, and damn it all to hell! Her shields had just gone down. But she wasn't stopping, wasn't looking for cover. Wasn't moving to replace what he knew had to be a nearly totaled heat sink. Wasn't doing anything but snarling and holding her finger down on the trigger.
Garrus didn't think, he just went for it. Sprinted full force towards her, and tackled her from the side. They landed with a resounding crack on the ground, behind the facility wall; the local flora scrapping at their sides.
Her furious cry, and the pelting she tried to level on him with her fists, was all he needed to know that she wasn't badly harmed. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Garrus! Get the hell off me! We have a mission!"
His mandibles flared out widely in irritation, and he snagged an arm around her middle, yanking her upright with him, and throwing her over his shoulder. "Not anymore we don't." His body ached from the falls, and from Shepard's angry attacks on his back with her heavily gloved fists (she might have been able to overpower him, if she hadn't already been injured and weak from her idiotic actions). He pressed all of the pain and the anger to the back of his mind, and raced quickly back towards the shuttle. Even managing to snag a confused, but grateful, Mordin along the way.
He knew there would be hell to pay for his actions, but it was worth it if it meant that Shepard lived another day.
~~~\/~~~
He'd allowed her the chance to be seen by Chakwas, allowed her to snarl out harsh words to poor Chambers, and tell Miranda that her "damned debriefing can wait." It gave him a chance to get out of the bloodied armor that he was wearing. He hated wondering the ship in civvies, but the scent of her blood on him was too much to handle, and he didn't have time to clean it from the armor, so the civvies would have to do.
He'd gotten back in time to watch her board the elevator, but let her ride it to her cabin alone, if only to save face in front of her crew. The second she got off that elevator, though, he jumped onboard and rode it to the top level.
His anger at her actions had begun to subside, if only a fraction. Even then, it was only because it was being replaced by a deep-rooted fear. (The latter emotion was far worse.)
He didn't want to think about what she had done down on the planet. How she had disregarded all of her training and tactics, and run head-on into a battle she couldn't win as if that was the point. It made him dizzy just to think about it like that.
She'd answered his chime at her door with extreme efficiency, the look on her face one that would make lesser men squirm. "What do you want, Vakarian?"
He didn't want to have this discussion, but it had to be done. Still he figured it would be best to play the cool-headed counterpart to her boiling rage. He shuffled from one foot to the next, and dropped his hands behind him in a classic subordinate stance. "Can I come in, Commander?" There. Use of her rank, and not her name. A good way to keep this professional.
She snorted, and stepped from the door, waving him in with a wide arcing hand. "I'm surprised you bothered to ask permission, considering your act of blatant insubordination earlier."
He meant to be cool. Collected. He really did. But hearing her call him 'insubordinate' when he saved her life was more than he could handle. He crossed the threshold with a growl, leveling his eyes on her. "My blatant act of insubordination saved your thin hide earlier."
She crossed her arms in front of her chest, and leaned back from him, trying for disinterested and failing miserably. (He had learned to read her like an open book very early on - she'd never been good at keeping her emotions hidden regardless.)
He took a step closer, until she was backed up to the stairs in her room. But she didn't waver. He would have been shocked if she did. "Or maybe you completely missed how your shields had failed. Failed! Shepard. You were one shot away from taking a bullet to the head." There was a deep rumble in his voice, made even more apparent by the frustration threading through his veins. "That visor of yours doesn't protect your skull you know."
She bristled, and huffed, and then did a most surprising thing. She let out a chuckle. A brittle one, without any humor. It was one of the most awful sounds Garrus had ever heard. She turned from him, and took the steps to the lower level. He was helpless but to follow.
"Yeah. I'd noticed."
Anger surged itself within him, and he crossed to her once more. His eye-piece told him that she was but 1.5 meters away. And that her heart-rate was level. She honestly didn't care. "So what? That was your plan? To get riddled with as many krogan slugs as you could?"
She tossed her hands out to her side, open, a seemingly inviting gesture; and then let them drop. "I'd hope to take out a few dozen of them before it got to that point, but basically. Yeah."
His mandibles clacked in irritation, and he took two long strides to her, eliminating the distance between them almost entirely. Of all the ridiculous... "So what? Your just gonna throw your life away - all you've accomplished - all you could still accomplish? And for what? For some misplaced sense of guilt?" She snorted, and crossed her arms defensively in front of her again.
"Newsflash, Shepard. You're not the first person to lose someone they care about. But we don't all seek out death by firing squad." And yes, he was fully aware of the hypocrisy in that statement.
Besides that at least, managed to spike her heart-rate. It was almost gratifying, managing to get a rise out of her after how cold she'd been. A tiny part of him railed at the idea of causing her any kind of pain, but drastic times…
"What the hell do you know about it, Garrus? Yeah, sure. Everyone's lost people. I get that." She poked a finger at her own chest. "I know that I don't have exclusive rights to that claim. Hell, we're soldiers. Comes in the job description, right? But this wasn't some battle, Garrus! He wasn't gunned down...he just died." She sounded so helpless, lost. "You know nothing about how I'm feeling." The emotions were burning hot in her again, so he tried for cool as a counterbalance.
"So why don't you tell me, hmm? What can't I possibly get about this?"
She bounced on the balls of her feet once, like she was planning on getting into his face, but pulled back at the last second. She was talking though, and that was an improvement. "I failed him, Garrus. When I should have - I should have -" She caught a broken sob in her throat, and held onto it. He may have been awed by her resolve to not cry in front of him, if he wasn't so concerned.
He reached out, grabbing both of her arms in his hands. As strong as she was, as wired and muscled as she was, his talons were able to wrap entirely around those limbs. She was so small in comparison to him. He feared if he didn't get through to her now, he would lose his chance, and she'd fall back in that hole she had dug for herself. "What, Shepard? Talk to me. Tell me."
Her lower lip trembled, and her eyes darted away from his. "Why? Why should I bother talking about anything. Its not going to do any good." She heaved a breath, but didn't break his hold on her. He felt rotten and wrong for being thankful for that. But maybe he was getting to her. So caught up in watching the emotions play out on her face, her next words caught him off guard.
Her voice little more than a croak. "Who did you lose? Was it...I mean I know a little about your crew on Omega, and maybe that's what you meant, but the way you said it sounded more..."
He swallowed. "Personal?"
"Yeah."
He lowered his eyes from her for a moment. Hands still clasped on her arms. The heat of her skin searing through his hide. "It was."
"Who...?"
He stiffened. Shit. Not the time. If ever there could have been less the time to have that discussion, it was now. He shook his head once. Hoping she wouldn't catch him in a lie. "Not important. Its in the past." He bent his knees slightly, trying to bring them onto the same level, not wanting to lose her attention now that he seemed to have it. "The point is that you aren't alone in this Shepard. You're acting like you are, but you don't have to be."
"That your professional opinion, Vakarian?"
"Yeah - I've been taking evening lessons from Kelly."
She snorted, an almost laugh escaping her. "Wow. Never knew you had a thing for red-heads."
"Shepard..." He angled his head towards her, and stroked his talons down her arm, from shoulder to elbow, and then back up again. Hoping he wasn't overstepping any boundaries. Jokes were all well and good, but he needed the seriousness of the situation to make itself visible to her. Apparently, it did.
"I wasn't there when he died. Alright? I should have been. But I wasn't..." Her voice cut off with a cough; her vocals rough and moist sounding, and it made him suck in a breath. "I wasn't..."
Oh, fuck it. Fuck it. He couldn't keep it quiet any more. It was stupid, and idiotic, and possibly the worst decision of his life. But he needed to say it, and damn it all, she needed to hear it. "Neither was I."
She blinked up at him. Her eyelids moving rapidly in confusion as she processed his words. She tried for levity, and he should have been grateful, but he really wasn't. Not when her voice wavered as she spoke, betraying her real emotions. "I know you guys got along alright, Garrus, but I had no idea that you felt that way. First Kelly, now Thane..." Her voice trailed off when she spoke his name. Garrus saw her eyes start to lose focus, and he gave her a little shake, to keep her in the here and now. Knowing that he'd lose his nerve if she curled in on herself again.
"That's not who I'm talking about, and you know it." He closed his eyes to avoid her questioning stare, and allowed himself a moment to enjoy the slight give of her flesh against his palms. Certain he'd never feel it again. With courage he didn't feel, he locked eyes with her once more. "You were gone a long time, Shepard. And I spent almost every day wishing I had been on that ship, and not wasting away in C-Sec. Trust me when I tell you that way leads to madness."
He could feel her tremble in his grip when she shook her head. "That's not the same, Garrus. You didn't- you weren't-"
The growl that reverberated out of him was loud. Angry. Unexpected. But he couldn't stop it. "It was exactly the same, Shepard!" He heaved a deep breath, not wanting to yell at her. She had no way of knowing how he felt. "Sure, the specifics were different. And I'm not going to pretend to know what it was like for you, I think that's personal. But the helplessness? The guilt? The empty way you feel afterward - positive that had you been there-" He near choked on his words, her eyes widening with every syllable he spoke. He could almost feel their friendship crumbling to dust around him. "That was the same."
"Garrus-"
"Look, Shepard. I'm not telling you this cause I want anything." He paused a beat, reorganizing his thoughts. "No. Wait. I do want something. I want you to trust me. I haven't always been a hundred percent honest, and maybe that was a mistake. But foolish notions of pride aside, I want you to understand how serious I am." He let his head fall forward a bit, stealing a moment close to her, encouraged that she hadn't started screaming at him - or thrown him out - yet. She actually seemed to be listening. "I nearly fell apart when you died." His voice had dropped to a whisper. It was hard revealing things he'd expected to keep buried.
"For awhile - I wanted the same as you did today. Hell, it was probably more than half the reason I ended up on Omega. But at some point, not sure how or when, I got the idea in my head that you'd be mightily pissed off if I got myself killed over a dead woman. Even if that woman was you."
She shook her head, her eyes wide – a gesture of surprise, as far as he'd been able to decipher at least. "I didn't know."
He raised his head back, and stood straight again to relieve some of the ache in his legs. He was being cruel to his knees today. "I know. Didn't matter. And Shepard..."
She blinked, her eyes looked bird like, they were so round. "Yeah?"
He steeled himself, unsure of what her reaction might be, but knowing that she needed it laid out for her where it could easily be seen. "Thane wouldn't want that either. He put a lot of effort into keeping you around."
This time, the sob did break loose from her. "I know." Her head fell forward, towards his chest.
He knew she was just trying to hide the evidence of her tears, slight though they might be. But he pulled her close regardless. Nestled her head beneath his chin. Glad that he'd had to drop the armor before coming up now. The position would have been impossible if he hadn't.
He could only hope she didn't feel him shaking.
At first her arms laid flaccid at her sides. But after several minutes, she lifted them up to fold around him. The tears that had escaped her seeming without permission, had ceased. Something for which he was immensely grateful.
Tentatively he pressed her closer; stroked a talon along her back. Remembering that she had enjoyed that long ago. There was no reaction at first, but then she surprised him once again.
She moved with a speed that he'd witnessed her use in battle before, but he'd never seen up close. Not like this. One second, she was tucked in his arms, the next, she had pulled herself up onto her toes, hands wrapped around the back of his throat to tug on his fringe until his head was lowered once more, and she pressed her mouth hard against his.
To say he had no idea what to do was an understatement. He stumbled, thrown off-balance by her attack, and nearly tumbled onto the couch. Just catching himself as he hit the arm of the seat with his side, and subsequently landed on the cushion with an 'oomph'.
She didn't let go. Her tongue was tracing the edge of his mouth, uncaring that he didn't have lips like hers, or that his teeth could sever the organ with little effort. She melded her body against his. Pressing, wriggling, tugging him closer until his own body rumbled a response.
He gave in, only for a second. Just one second. Let his hands slide through her hair, gripping the silky strands he'd always loved in a desperate hold. Enjoyed the supple give of her body against his unforgiving one. (He was suddenly thankful that they had fallen to the couch, as he didn't think he could have maintained his body in a fully upright position any longer.)
What harm could it do to allow himself a moment? One he'd always craved, but never believed…
There were so many things he could try and use to justify this, but they would all be hollow lies. There was no justification. He opened his mouth to hers, unsure how to return her gesture, but wanting to try.
Just this once. And then he would pull away. He'd pull away, set things to right, and hope that he didn't lose his best friend in the process.
~~~\/~~~
She'd lied when she'd told him that she didn't know how he felt. Well...maybe lie was the wrong term. She hadn't actually known, but she'd suspected. That wasn't the same thing, was it?
But how could she have known? He'd never confessed, and she saw no reason to force an awkward conversation. Especially when she respected him too much to offer up empty platitudes.
There'd been a few occasions when she'd wondered. Given herself a moment to contemplate what it would be like, but they were fleeting imaginings, with no real intent behind them. She'd been half-in-love with Kaidan when they'd first become close, and she hadn't picked up on his interest then. By the time she had identified the stares that lasted longer than propriety would dictate, or the tightly held mandibles which signaled his embarrassment every time she'd idly flirt, for what they truly were...she had already fallen for Thane. So she'd put it out of her mind, the same way it seemed he had.
It had worked well for both of them. Until now.
Now, there were feelings threatening to surface inside of her that she wasn't ready to deal with. Garrus had said that she wasn't alone. That she didn't have to go through this alone. And that just made it harder. Because Thane had been alone. Right when it counted most. And he deserved more than that.
More than some dim-witted soldier who remembered to update the damn ship's shields, or Jack's biotic implants, but didn't sink any creds into finding a cure for her lover's terminal illness. Then she'd done the greatest disservice, and waltzed away from him right before he'd died. Leaving him in a cold and clinical room, with no one by his side – save Dr. Chakwas, but that hardly counted. Not in Shepard's mind.
There was nothing even remotely acceptable about any of it – no matter how you tried to spin it.
There was panic coiling and churning and threatening to break through her from the inside out. She could feel it. Feel her control slipping. Feel cracks forming in her well-built walls. Garrus was piercing through her defenses, and she was afraid, oh-so-afraid, that he would succeed. And then what would she be? Some broken, brittle woman sobbing for her loss?
What good were tears? They couldn't bring him back. Couldn't heal him. What the hell could they possibly do for her? Still her traitorous ducts were welling with the vile water, threatening to spill. And she couldn't allow that. Couldn't be overtaken by grief.
Because if she was, then she didn't think it would ever stop. She had to do something, anything to make it stop. But her whole mind was taken over by Thane, and as long as he was there, his voice caressing her memories, she'd always be liable to break.
And that wasn't acceptable.
So it was a simple thing really, to launch herself at Garrus. Sex could be so many things. She'd learned that long ago. It could be fun, no-strings attached, with a man you knew for less than a day. It could be stress relief with a fellow soldier after a tough mission. It could be heat to block out the cold, and it could be sweet-nothings amongst cotton sheets. And right then? Right then she needed an anesthetic.
So it was easy.
She forced her mouth upon his, and tasted the slightly metallic tang of his alien skin against her lips. Pushed him, until they'd fallen to the couch, and she was sprawled in his lap. Her insides were reeling, and her heart was screaming, but he was warm. Delicious, mind-numbingly warm. When he finally responded, finally wrapped his arms fully around her and tugged her body into him. Slipped his tongue along hers, she thought she would explode, she was so grateful.
She trailed her mouth down along his jawline, leaving little biting kisses on his mandible, in a trail to his throat. When she sucked hard on the skin there, his hips arched up and he released a deep-voiced moan that went straight to her core. Her own body responding to the suddenly insistent presence pressing up against her stomach. She felt talons digging into the skin along her back, and it was blissful.
The pleasure-pain over-rode all thoughts in her head, until finally, finally she was able to shut out the voices yelling at her from within. Garrus was her friend - her best friend. And he had feelings for her that went beyond those boundaries, and maybe it wasn't fair to him to be doing this, but she needed it.
With all of that drowned out, she reached her hand between the two of them, and stroked along the growing evidence of his arousal. Slipped her hand beneath the waist of his pants, and wrapped her fingers around the heat of him, absently noticing how similar he was to other men. She swallowed his gasp with another kiss.
~~~\/~~~
One moment had turned into two. And then twenty. And with each suckling, nibble she left along his neck - with each squeeze of her hand against him, he felt his resolve cracking.
Never in his deepest, darkest fantasies had he'd imagined anything like this. Nothing he may have encountered on the extranet could prepare him for having this woman crawling on his body as if she couldn't get close enough to him. What was the harm...?
When she started actually working on the fastenings of his trousers, not just working around them, a clarion bell went off in his head, and he forced himself to pull back. Hands at her hips, when all they wanted to do was explore her exquisitely soft skin – so different from anything he had ever know. She had stolen all of the breath from his lungs with her desperate kisses, but he found a scrap of voice somehow. "Shepard - wait."
She grumbled something as she continue to tug at the fastenings, a triumphant crow passing her lips when she got the latch to give free. He snagged her hand before it could delve back inside, and held her wrist firmly in his trembling grip. His whole body was vibrating with tension, berating him for stopping. But he had to. He had to.
She delved back into his throat, licking along the sensitive skin there, letting her hand remain immobile between them, "waiting is over-rated." And then her free-hand found the tender skin at the back of his neck, and he felt his entire body seize up. The need coursing through him like lightning. He released her hand so that he could grab both of her shoulders and pull her back. Panting with the effort it took not to throw her down and tear her clothes off.
The pupils of her eyes had dilated until the iris was nearly gone, and she was gasping for breath just the same as him. The tiny tendrils of will he still possessed were fast unraveling. "Shepard - Jane - wait."
That got her her attention, if the fear that light up her face was any indication. She reached up, and unhooked the front of her uniform. Keeping her eyes on him as she tugged it open and off. Beneath it, she wore a tiny swath of cloth over her chest. He was mesmerized as she reached behind her and unlatched something, releasing the material, and revealing her breasts to his eyes.
He wasn't quite prepared for the throbbing want that shot through him at the sight. Turian women didn't have these, but he was familiar enough with the concept - having seen countless asari during his patrols with C-Sec, and later on Omega - to understand their appeal. He'd never given them much thought, however. So the need he felt at their reveal surprised him a great deal. He suspected it was wound all the more tightly, because it was Shepard.
Then her hand reached for one of his, and lifted it up to her bare breast, and placed it upon her. Her own five-fingered hand remained in place on top of his, and that gesture was almost as intimate as anything else for him. He was shocked out of his visual assessment, and shot his eyes back up to hers.
"I don't want to wait, Garrus. I need this." She closed her eyes, and moved their joint hands together, mewling a little when he traced the darkened flesh at the center of her breast with a carefully drawn talon.
She arched into his hand. "Please?"
His resolve snapped.
~~~\/~~~
It was dizzying. Human flesh against turian hide. Shepard's velveteen tongue, and Garrus' prickly surfaced one. Their clothes were torn off in quick succession. Garrus' hands were no longer idle. Dancing over every part of her that they could reach. Alternating harsh strokes with soft caresses. Trailing tickling talons along her nipples, hips, the bit of bundled nerves between her thighs which seemed to make her cry out in panting sobs. He'd sooth the pain they would draw out with the warm palm of his hand.
Shepard's mouth tasted every inch of him that it could. Nibbles and licks and sucks. Teeth and tongue and lips working in perfect harmony to draw guttural moans and harsh curses from his throat. Each one more desperate and needy than the last.
When her hand finally tugged him between her thighs, with pleas for "now, please, now" falling from her throat, his hips snapped forward, pressing the harshly ridged length of him inside, and they both cried out. Garrus was forced to hold his position for several long seconds, the sensation of her tightly wrapped around him almost too much to bear. He pressed his forehead to hers and took deep, slow breaths Opened eyes taking in her own tightly closed ones as she too calmed her breathing. Shepard's hands trembled along his cowl, until she began arching, and thrusting, and pressing into him until he set a frantic pace. The heels of her feet digging into the back of his thighs, as she cried out. More. Faster. Harder.
When they tumbled from the couch, and Shepard landed on top of him, Garrus thought that was the end of him. Feeling her thrusting down upon him. Those utterly amazing hips circling against him. The grip of her hands and her movements becoming harsher, more erratic, with every passing second. The way she wiggled and ground into him was draining him dry, and he knew that it wouldn't, couldn't, last much longer.
Instinct took over and he flipped her back underneath him, knocking the coffee table out of the way, and rocking his hips into hers. Taking back control.
When he lost it once again, he buried his face against her throat; teeth latching onto the skin there, but careful not to break it. He heard a muffled cry, and felt her body arch up as hands and legs and feet dug into him, pulling him closer.
Once his breathing evened out, he lifted his head. Sense filtering back in slowly through the haze, and fear flooding his systems. What he saw made his stomach plummet.
At some point, either he or Shepard must have bitten her lip, as it was dotted with little beads of her blood. But that wasn't what got him. What got him was her closed eyes.
The closed eyes that were slowly leaking tears.
He reached out at a hand to touch her cheek, and felt his heart tear open when she flinched from him. "Shepard?" There was no way he could mask the worry, or the hurt, in his voice. The situation made even more awful by the fact that they were still rather intimately attached.
Though she didn't open her eyes, she did speak. He almost wished she hadn't. "It's okay, Garrus. I just..." She paused, but didn't look at him. "Just need time."
He swallowed, and nodded, even though she couldn't see him. "Okay." He pulled back, separating himself from her, his body screaming in protest.
As soon as he lifted his body from hers, she wasted little time in reaching for the top of her uniform, tossing it on over her, but not latching it. He had no idea if that was a good sign or not. "I'm just, I'm just going to go take a shower now." Her voice was even, the tone slightly dulled, but the implications in it clear.
She needed time. She was going to take a shower. And he shouldn't be here when she was done.
"Alright."
She nodded, and crossed into her bathroom.
Everything was most certainly not alright.