Just for Being You
He'd given up completely on the idea of her sleeping in her own room. Maybe ever. She even started storing a bedroll beneath his cot instead of carrying everything back and forth from her cabin each night. He very well might have to spend the rest of his life with the great Commander Shepard sleeping on his floor next to his bed. So much for ever getting laid again. Hell, he could barely even find enough time alone to try and work out some of his tension on his own.
But, he admitted, it was kind of nice having her around so much. They'd developed their own nightly rituals of sorts. Most nights, she'd come down around twenty-two hundred hours, already dressed for bed in her N7 tank top and loose, black pants that hung low on her waist, hip bones poking out over the top. He'd caught himself staring more than once as she spread out her bedroll and then did some light stretches, twisting and turning with impressive flexibility before laying down for the night. Then she'd lay there, hands tucked under her head watching him while he finished up his work, making idle conversation. Finally, he'd strip down to his undersuit pants, stepping over her to climb onto his cot and tell EDI to kill the lights. As soon as it was dark, they'd start talking. Really talking. Saying all the things they never spoke about with anyone else, especially with the lights on.
She told him about her childhood before the batarian raiders came and either killed or captured everyone she knew and loved. Her little brother, Michael, had been born with a neurological disorder she called autism, and the batarian slavers didn't even bother with trying to enslave him once they realized he had the disorder. His death pained her even more than her parents' deaths. She said she was always really protective of him, and she still blamed herself for not being able to save him. When he asked, she told him more about autism and how it affected Michael.
She'd asked about his family, so he told her about his parents and Sol; what it was like growing up in his father's shadow. He talked about his mother's diagnosis of Corpalis Syndrome, and how painful it was knowing she was degenerating and he wasn't there to help her. When she asked if he wanted her to take him back to Palaven, he told her no, he'd just be in the way there and with Shepard, he was actually doing something useful with his life. He talked about saving everything he still had from Omega and whatever he got working with Shepard so he could make donations to the Helos Medical Institute. She suggested he talk to Mordin, thinking the salarian might have some ideas or be able to pull a few strings.
They'd talked about his early years in C-Sec, and he asked about Akuze and the Skyllian Blitz. Sometimes they talked about past missions or strategized for the war. They discussed the collectors, and the team she was building to go through the Omega 4 Relay. A few times, they just talked about their people, noting the differences and similarities between humans and turians.
"This floor sucks," she said, pulling him from his musings.
"You realize you could requisition another cot to have brought in here." He hummed, considering the logistics and trying not to think about how easily he just accepted the idea of taking steps to make her presence in the Main Battery more of a permanent one. "There's not a lot of room, so we'd probably have to find someplace to store it during the day. Guess I could flip it upside down and put it on top of mine."
"Or …." She trailed off.
He knew her well enough to realize she was baiting him, setting him up to push her into finishing her thought. "Or?" He rolled over so he could look down at her, letting his arm hang over the edge.
She shrugged but didn't turn her head to look at him. "You could start sleeping in my cabin with me. There's couches up there, but if those aren't comfortable, there's plenty of room for a cot." She scoffed, pulling one of her hands out from under her head to wave in the air. "Hell, the bed's …." She stopped, tucking her hand back under her head and clearing her throat. "I guess I really should just suck it up and let you have your quarters back."
He didn't say anything. He couldn't. He just lay there staring at her, mandibles flared, desperately wanting to know how the rest of her sentence would've gone, but he didn't have the courage to give her the nudge she needed to finish. Spirits, when exactly did he start feeling something for her? He always liked her, admired her even, but more and more, his thoughts about her were shifting to someplace entirely not about being her friend or subordinate. Hell, she wasn't even turian. Not that her species was a particular problem for him, lots of species intermingled, uh, recreationally, but he'd never been with anyone other than a turian, never really even thought about it.
Until now.
She rolled over, putting her back to him and stretched her arm out under her pillow. "I'll sleep upstairs tomorrow night."
The first night without her wasn't so bad. Despite feeling like an idiot and maybe a little bit of an ass, he'd managed to fall asleep without too much trouble. The second night was a little harder, the Normandy's air filtration system nearly completely erased her scent from the Main Battery, especially without her bedroll tucked away beneath his cot. The third night, though … by the third night, he was miserable. He missed her. He thought he wanted his space back, his solitude, but it just left him feeling alone and empty.
She'd told him he could sleep in her cabin, so why didn't he just go up there? To hell with it, he was going. If she didn't want him in there, she wouldn't have made the offer. He stood up and asked EDI to turn on the lights before slipping his undersuit shirt back on. Grabbing his blanket and pillow, he rolled them up and stuck them under his arm before leaving the Main Battery.
He made it all the way to the elevator before he started feeling nervous and doubtful, but he pushed the damn button anyway and stepped inside when the doors opened. Taking a deep breath, he rode the elevator up to the top deck. When the elevator stopped, he lingered there for a moment, working steel into his spine before crossing the few feet between him and her cabin door. He raised his hand to knock, but the door slid open before he made contact. Flaring his mandibles, he glanced inside the dimly lit room, taking in the glowing fish tank to his left.
"Need the light on to find the couch?" Her voice floated up to him from deeper inside.
He chuffed, a smile spreading his mandibles. "I think I can manage."
"Watch for the stairs."
He took a few steps inside, gaze sweeping over the outlines of a desk and the silhouettes of model ships in a display case before focusing on the darker recesses of the room. He could just make out the shape of a bed down below. "I see them."
He made his way down, pausing again at the foot of the stairs to glance around, picking out the shape of a couch to his right. Shepard lay on the bed, curled around a little to watch him, the light of the aquarium just barely catching on the whites of her eyes, making them look a soft blue. He moved to the couch, tossing his pillow down against the arm and sat down.
"I'm glad you're here," she said, and he heard the smile in her voice.
Fluttering his mandibles, he turned, laying back and throwing his feet up on the couch before pulling the blanket down over him. "Yeah … me, too."
He thought she was having another nightmare. He lay there for a minute, listening to her muttering in her sleep, tossing and turning on her bed across the room. "Shepard," he called out to her when she groaned, but she didn't respond. Throwing the covers back, he stood up and crossed the floor to squat down in front of her bed, gently shaking her shoulder. "Shepard."
Her eyes snapped open, locking on to him. "Garrus? What's wrong?"
She seemed instantly alert, sitting up to sweep the room with her gaze. She tossed her blankets off of her and swung her legs around, hand reaching for the pistol on her nightstand, and that's when her scent hit him, slapping him hard in the face. The same musky scent he'd caught on her before a few times, but so much stronger … coming from right between her legs.
Oh.
He cleared his throat, pushing back to his feet, suddenly feeling completely awkward and out of place. "Nothing, sorry." He managed to make his mouth move, the words tumbling from him in a near stutter. "I thought you were having another nightmare." He found himself taking shallow sniffs of the air around her, pulling the scent in and rolling it on the back of his tongue. "Are you, hmmm. Are you okay?"
Spirits.
The soft, almost bittersweet aroma of her embarrassment filled the air, but it wasn't enough to hide the other scent. The scent that the more he thought about, the more he felt an uncomfortable pressure behind his plates. She let out a soft chuckle and stood, patting his shoulder as she walked by, headed for the stairs.
"Yeah, I'm good." She made her way to the top of the stairs, and then, almost too soft for him to hear, she said, "I definitely wouldn't call it a nightmare." A moment later, the bathroom door hissed open, the light flooding the area.
As soon as it closed behind her, he sucked in a deep breath, savoring the scent and groaned, rubbing a hand over his face and crest. "Spirits. What are you doing, Garrus?" He turned, trudging back to the couch and laid down, tugging the blanket back up over him and squeezed his eyes closed, willing himself back to sleep.
Listening to her pretend not to cry, he really regretted not breaking Kaidan's nose. He knew the man's words cut her deep while they were still on Horizon, but she kept her face neutral, held on to that iron-forged will of hers with a deadly grip. Garrus had wanted to take her aside, ask her if she was alright, but he didn't dare. He knew her well enough to know she needed to maintain that professional distance and control, at least while still on duty and around the rest of the crew.
That night, when he came up to her cabin to sleep, he'd found her sitting on the edge of her bed, elbows on her knees, fingers fisted around handfuls of her hair. He sat down next to her, rumbling in his chest, a sound that comforted other turians, but he didn't really know if it helped her at all or not. She'd leaned against him, and he turned, putting his arms around her and pulling her to his chest. That one, at least, he knew humans found comforting, too.
He really should've punched Kaidan, hell, maybe even shot him in the foot for using Garrus' presence as a weapon against Shepard. Kaidan left her not only doubting if she was doing the right thing, working with Cerberus long enough to take down the collectors, but he also left her doubting having Garrus by her side. As if there was anywhere else he'd be once she showed up, alive and kicking ass, on Omega. He never expected it from Kaidan, not with the level of vitriol he dished out at least, especially not with the way the human sniffed around after Shepard on the old Normandy.
Garrus expected her to cry while he held her, but she didn't. She'd just buried her face against him, arms wrapped loosely around his waist, and asked if she'd made the right choice. He tried reassuring her, said everything he could think of to let her know she was doing what she had to in order to help her people, and he supported her one-hundred percent. He wasn't sure if she believed him, though, and after a few minutes, she said she just wanted to go to sleep and forget the day ever happened.
But then, a few minutes after the lights were out and he was settled onto the couch, she started crying. He could tell she didn't want him to know, fought to keep it quiet, but he damn near tasted the salt of her tears in the air and heard the occasional shudder of her breath. It just made him more and more angry at Kaidan. The man had no idea, no idea, how much she already struggled and how hard she fought to keep it all together. And not for her sake, either, but for everyone else. Always for everyone else.
His anger gave him the courage he needed. He wadded his blanket up and shoved it under his arm, stood up, and grabbed his pillow. Making his way to the side of her bed, he met her gaze, and she wiped her eyes but didn't say anything. Sucking in a deep breath, filling his lungs with the sour scent of her anguish, he waved his hand. "Move over."
He expected her to protest, but she didn't. Tugging at the blankets, she scooted over, leaving enough room for him to lay down next to her. Pushing her covers aside, he sat down, adjusting his pillow over the ones already behind him. Laying back, he shook his blanket out over his legs and shifted his arm, reaching for her. She eased in against his side, and he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her in closer. Sniffling, she laid her face against his chest, wriggled around until she found a comfortable spot, and then tucked her arms in against his side.
He let out a soft rumble, running his fingers along the bare skin of her arm. "Forget about Kaidan. He doesn't know what he's talking about, Shepard. No one who really knows you could ever believe, for even a minute, that you're not just doing what you have to do to stop the collectors."
She didn't say anything, but he felt her tears sliding down his keel. Her chest heaved, shoulders shaking, and she sucked in a deep breath, letting it slip back out of her with a shudder. He rumbled again, rubbing her arm in slow, soothing strokes. After a few minutes, her breathing started to settle down, the cool drops against his plates slowing to a stop. He didn't let her go, though, he just kept rubbing her arm.
She sighed, shifting one of her arms to settle her hand down on his cowl, fingers curling in over the edge, pulling a soft purr from him. "Thank you, Garrus. For being here for me, and just … just for being you."
