Mortification and fear drive through her like a lance. There is no moment of acknowledgement, no reading of any emotion or question that might have been on his face. She throws herself back behind the crate as if she's fallen off a skyscraper the second she realizes that he's looking at her.

Her shoulder bangs against the corner of the crate and pain blossoms with the dull thud of the sound. It hurts. She grabs her arm and drops to her backside on the floor. It isn't as if she can run. Any running will bring her out in view. Still. Be still. Don't move. Oh, damn it hurts.

She is certain that if they come around the crate to see what the fuss is about she will die. Her heart will stop, explode, her carefully designed notion of her place in this universe as a tool to put one thing right will be gone.

"Problem?" Sound carries in the hanger. That deep reverberation in Garrus' voice reaches her ears despite its relatively soft pitch.

She stops breathing.

"No, I don't think so," it is the Commander who answers. "Can't expect to save the universe without getting a few people coming to gawk, right?"

"Indeed."

Footsteps. Heavy boots lead away. Another question, and more laughter shared.

She starts breathing again, bending her head to touch her knees as she tries to talk some sense into herself. This is silly. This is stupid. It makes no sense.

They shouldn't scare her so badly…

But she doesn't move for several hours.