Taptaptap….taptap…taptaptap.
It was endless.
Tap. Taptaptap. Taptap.
Drawing near before hurrying away, towards the cafeteria.
Taptaptap.
So quiet, but just loud enough to keep him from sleeping.
Taptaptaptaptap.
Spirits, he had been listening to it for damn near an hour. It didn't relent once in that space of time. Judging by the total lack of any other noise, it seemed nobody but him was remotely bothered by it. Of course, this didn't surprise him – noise, high-pitched noise – was a much greater concern for him than anyone else on this damn ship. They couldn't hear it. He could.
Oh, could he ever hear it.
Taptaptaptaptaptapta—
"You've got to be joking," he hissed at his ceiling. He threw his blankets off of him and onto the floor, then stumbled his way into a standing position: he was used to turian-sized beds, not these goddamn midget beds. Once he corrected his stance, he grabbed a spare shirt and pants in a fluid motion and threw them on so haphazardly that he would have been chewed out for nearly as long as he'd been lying awake listening to that stupid noise on this stupid ship filled with stupid deaf humans who wouldn't hear a legion of elcor raiding their damn Normandy.
He didn't know what the hell it was that was out there, but he was ninety-eight percent certain he was going to kill it. He'd hear rumors of space rats and always doubted their existence, but right now he was more than willing to believe it just so he'd have a semi-decent excuse for firing a weapon while on the ship.
He hated rats.
The metal door blocking his room from the crew member's hall flew open, but due to the hydraulic hinges or whatever the hell they were it denied him the satisfaction of hearing the crash of the door against the metal walls of the vessel. His rifle, the one that always lay next to his bed, was in his hands. Bringing it had been more of a reflex than a conscious effort, but right now he was thankful for that training. If a rat was the reason for his lack of sleep, then it was about to learn why it's never good to keep a turian awake when he's in desperate need of some beauty rest.
As he rounded the first corner to approach the cafeteria, he was slowed by the discovery that the rat pattering sounded an awful lot like footsteps. Rather heavy ones; far too heavy for space rodents. He didn't particularly know what to think about that: these were restricted hours where the crew should either be in their rooms or at their stations.
Not wandering aimlessly around on a stealth ship.
He paused at the corner, his back pressed against the wall with his rifle raised at his side. The situation had evolved into something he wasn't too sure about. Maybe someone was just getting a midnight snack. Maybe they couldn't sleep. Maybe they were trying to diagram the ship so they could sell the schematics off to the highest bidder? Humans may have been new to the galaxy, but they were already known as opportunistic bastards. It would certainly be feasible for an Alliance member to do something like that, right? It could be a what-for against the turians, since they helped design the ship and a lot of humans were against it.
Maybe they were setting goddamn space rats free on the ship? No, schematics seemed more likely, even though the odds of it were slim—
Next thing he knew, a knee was thrust into his stomach, his arm was twisted behind his back, and the back of his hand was nearly rubbing the top of his skull. His prized rifle was somewhere and he didn't really know where but how the hell did he just get unarmed?
Wasn't he supposed to be excellent at hand-to-hand combat or something? "Damn..."
"Garrus? What the hell are you doing out here?" His arm was immediately released and he sighed when he was relieved of the pressure. His opposite hand rose and touched his shoulder, helping to roll out the muscles that had been brutalized moments before.
A sheepish smile, one that he wasn't entirely certain if Shepard would understand, spread. "I, uh…I couldn't sleep."
Her eyes bore into him like the mining laser on Therum as she thrust his rifle back into his hands. "I'm fairly certain you were briefed on the regs of the Normandy. Nobody's supposed to be up at night unless they're going to take a shit or are going to work."
Forgot about the bathroom. That would have worked.
Except the bathroom is in the other direction.
"You're right. I was briefed on that."
And now she's just staring at me waiting for me to explain because she can't really chew out a non-crewmember. There's not much she can do other than yell at me and hope I don't do it again, and she's not one for yelling.
"I put that rule in place for a reason."
Now his free hand moved up to his neck. "Oh."
Still she waited.
"I heard a noise. Sounded like something walking around. Been going on for nearly an hour, so I thought I should check it out." He sighed and leaned against the wall, cradling his gun, trying to ignore the stare-down he was on the receiving end of. "Why are you still awake? You've had a long day fighting Rachni and prank-calling the councilors. I'd have thought you'd be ready for a good night's sleep."
Shepard narrowed her eyes. "Tali," she explained, in the bitterest voice possible.
"She cornered you, too?"
"About Benezia?" Garrus nodded and that made Shepard swear. "I'm going to space her ass for harassing my crew."
"I just think she enjoys making us uncomfortable."
"Damn quarians." Shepard shook her head, then motioned for Garrus to follow her towards one of the tables in the mess hall. He took a seat, and she grabbed a bottle of water and two glasses to share the drink between them. "She caught me right after the briefing and started nagging me to see if I felt bad about Benezia. I mean, sure, I feel bad that Liara's mom got killed, but why the hell should I feel bad about us being the ones who killed her after the wench shot at me?" She drank her water like it was a shot of whiskey and grimaced. "I know Tali's smarter than that, though. She probably is just trying to annoy me." She gave Garrus a tight grin. "Maybe."
Garrus chuckled low and drank from his glass, reflecting on the guilt he had felt earlier. While he felt considerably better knowing that Shepard didn't give a crap, either, there was still something nibbling away at his insides, something that, at first, he couldn't quite put his finger on.
As Shepard went to refill her cup, Garrus sank further into his thoughts. Shepard casually mentioned something about how he should think out loud, but that made Garrus pause all the more. He didn't know how to explain that the main thing bothering him was the fact that Noveria didn't bother him like it should have. He had just helped kill the mother of one of his companions, watched as a group of humans needlessly led themselves to be slaughtered by Shepard for betraying her after she helped him, and dealing with the numerous dead bodies that were shredded by the rachni along each pathway…
Why wasn't this troubling him?
He knew about PTSD, knew about shock, knew about all that from his days in the military…but this just didn't seem to fit. The alarm bells weren't ringing.
He tried to voice his worries to Shepard, tried to tell her all that he was thinking and that the main reason for his concern was that he simply wasn't feeling like Tali jokingly thought he ought to feel. She listened and nodded her head slowly, though her eyes seemed a little distant.
"I know what you mean," she sighed when he was finished. She chewed on the inside of her lip for a moment before leaning forward, closer to Garrus. "I don't know what all you saw while you were in the military, but I can imagine that it wasn't pretty. And even if you didn't then, I know you did in C-Sec by the stories that you've told me." Her hands formed a steeple and she pressed her index fingers against her forehead. "Then compound that with all the missions I've taken you on where you see so many dead, all the husks, all the remains of people that we just couldn't save, and we start to realize that we've seen more in one day than most people in this galaxy have seen in a lifetime – mature krogan and asari aside."
Arms lowered, her hands folded in her lap, her eyes leveled with his. "We've seen a lot of crazy shit. Even on this trip to Peak 15, we've seen some things that are beyond comprehension..." She shook her head. "After a while, you grow numb to the horrors of war and everyday life. You see so much that you just can't care anymore; if you do then you might go crazy from it all. Too many innocent people die, too many meet deaths that they didn't deserve, too many get their asses kicked for trying to be a good person. The galaxy is one mean son-of-a-bitch to the little guys, and people like us see that. And maybe we still feel sorry for those guys deep down, I don't know.
"What I do know, though, is that when I see people like Benezia and those scientists, all messing with things that should have been left alone, and I suddenly don't care about what happens to them. I see the scientists ripped apart on the floor of that research facility and think they deserve it for what they were doing to the Rachni. I see Benezia get shot up and think that's what she deserves for trying to be the hero with Saren despite how her breasts bounced into the situation without any idea of what they were getting into. Good people die for doing nothing at all: that's the way the galaxy works. If the galaxy wants to throw a little justice in there and get rid of the baddies and the idiots in as brutal of a fashion as possible then so be it. I won't complain."
Was she answering his question or trying to explain herself? He wasn't so sure.
She smiled crookedly again, though it was far from reaching her still-distant eyes. The effect that combination had was odd and confusing, the perfect expression for the human woman that stood before him. "Maybe I'm wrong for feeling, or not feeling, the way that I do. Maybe I'm not wrong. All I know is that my job is hard enough as it is and I can't sit here feeling sorry for the idiots of the world who got what was coming for them." Her voice lowered to a level that he wondered if most humans could even hear. "Maybe we're just not that different from each other." She shrugged, then glanced idly around the cafeteria to give Garrus time to consider her words.
And Garrus did consider what she said, long and hard. He recalled the images of the scientists on Noveria, of Benezia dying, and they conjured no emotions within him, neither positive or negative. The memories of the decaying corpses of mercenaries in a cave that reeked with the stench of death, mercenaries that had killed countless lives to get at some stupid treasure, did nothing to his emotions other than pluck at a small chord of satisfaction within him. They had been motivated by selfishness, had they not? Paychecks and plunder? Why waste time pitying fools like that?
His head bowed further in thought as he thought of his time at C-Sec, of all the times when the most innocent of lives were the ones that had been so deeply hurt. The children that had come to him bruised and broken because their father had raised a hard hand against them, the small skeletons that he would find in the ducts, the bodies of the young and old who had died from sicknesses that they had no money to treat because the thugs came and took all they had…those were injustices. Those images made his blue blood boil, made his heart ache, and made him want to fight every bureaucrat that stood in his way of justice.
Their eyes met yet again, his and Shepard's. Nothing was said, but he saw the miniscule nod in his direction. He stood, rifle in his off hand, and reached his other palm out to her and she accepted it. She stood with his help and, for a moment, they faced each other with their hands firmly clasped together.
He didn't know what to say to her, whether he should thank her or salute or do…something. Thankfully he didn't have to wait long, because Shepard shook his hand and asked if there was anything else on his mind.
"No, no, just…thanks. For talking."
"Any time, Garrus. Now, get your ass back to bed."
He walked out the door, but not before taking one last quick glance back at the commander, who had resumed sitting in her seat. Her head was hanging between her shoulders, her hands clasped and resting on the back of her head. Her eyes were closed.
But she looked up, probably noting that the door hadn't yet swished shut, and saw Garrus. "Watch out for space rats on your way back. Adams swears he saw one."
She grinned when he rolled his eyes.