Chapter Summary
In which Saren continues to avoid sleeping, thinking about the past, or facing his depression in favor of working himself to the bone instead.
Chapter Notes
Lexicon:
Torin/Tarin: Adult Male/Female Turian (Credit: MizDirected)
Kava: Turian equivalent to Coffee (Credit: Chromaticism)
See the end of the chapter for more notes
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
The steam from Saren's third cup of kava had faded away, the drink going unconsumed in his distraction. It was two hours into the night cycle and the Spectre was still sitting up in the kitchen, never having pretended to sleep at all. The data pad in front of him blurred into illegibility as a jaw popping yawn took hold.
"Maybe you should consider trying to sleep." He jumped at the sudden voice that broke the room's quiet. Vakarian. He scrubbed a palm over his face and replied without turning around from the small table to face the door way.
"I will do so on my own time. Perhaps you should take your own advice." He could hear the scrape of bare talons along the floor as footing changed, accompanied by a light thunk. Likely the C-Sec Officer had leaned back against the door frame, legs crossed. A position of causal leaning the torin seemed to take often.
"I napped a fair bit today, after the incident with Hidoran station, so... I'm just fine. You however, barely sleep as it is." Saren's proverbial hackles rose at the... demeaning chastisement. He swung his head around to pin the sniper with half a glare.
"My sleeping habits are none of your concern, Vakarian." Garrus just shrugged, his silver-grey crest blades catching the light as he tossed his head in a dismissive gesture.
"Maybe, maybe not. It doesn't change the fact that something's bothering you. You've been keyed up since I first saw you this morning. You want to talk about it?" Did he- want to- talk about it?!
'Who does this carbon-copy C-Sec flunky think he is?'
From half asleep at the wheel to angry and ready to fight in twenty five seconds or less. Keyed up did not begin to describe it. Saren lifted his legs and spun on the wide bench of the mess hall's table, planting his feet heavily upon coming fully around. He distantly lamented that his lack of boots kept the sound from being as intimidating as it should have been. He brought his full glare to bear on the other occupant, perfectly still and silent.
Face neutral, with mandibles loosely tucked in and a deceptively placid gaze, Garrus approached slowly and leaned over, reaching down to rest his hands on Saren's cloth covered shoulders. His hands were warm against chilled plates. Less afraid of the Spectre's ire then he really should be.
'Hiding it? Perhaps.'
"Listen. You don't have to talk about it, it wasn't an attempt at coercion. It was an offer. A friendly one. If you don't want to, that's fine, but I offered to hear what's on your mind because I care that you're okay, and today? 'Okay' is not the word I would use. I understand you're a private person, and I'm not trying to encroach where that's unwelcome, but if there is anything I can do to help you relax, I hope you know you can ask. I respect you more than... anyone else in the galaxy. If I can help you out somehow? I want to."
Saren's mounting anger dissipated in the face of Garrus' heart-felt concern. He wasn't pushing like Nihlus did, but made it obvious that he wanted to be helpful if he could. Vakarian claimed to... respect him more than...
He grabbed for the remaining tatters of his temper and growled softly, subvocals saying 'give me some space'. The sniper moved away to the cupboards and began to making up some sort of drink.
Silence reigned in the kitchen, the only sounds to be heard were those of the ship's systems and the quiet hum of the chilling unit. Saren turned back around gingerly, resting an elbow on the table and his chin on that fist. A fresh drink was set gently before him, but it clearly wasn'tkava. He scented the air lightly. It was herbal tea, hot and unsweetened. Garrus sat down across from him, not meeting his eyes, just swirling his own tea cup wordlessly. He tried to work up a mild affront that the Officer had exchanged his drink for something without caffeine, but it seemed petty in lieu of the quiet companionship and open-ended offer of support that had come with it.
His elbow slid out from under him as he let his fringe drop to the table top to land on cool metal. Still, Garrus said nothing, but reached out a hand to rest three taloned fingertips against the outside of his arm.
"I..." Damn, he was doing this, wasn't he? Saren didn't particularly want to, -liar, his mind whispered in Nihlus' voice-, but he might as well give it a try at least once. "I wish to sleep, but cannot. Do not ask me why." A low hum from the other torin set the tea in his cup to vibrating, concentric circles forming in ripples on the surface.
"Tried any sleep aids?" He shook his head, rolling his forehead against the table, before managing to lift his torso back to a proper sit fueled by self disgust at his weak appearance.
"Well, tea is a good start. It can be calming." An unsubtle nudge of the cup pushing it closer to him. "I saw you exercising with free weights earlier, it looked like a good work out, so I'd guess it isn't lack of physical exhaustion... what about music or aromatherapy?" Saren scoffed.
"I have tried peaceful instrumental audio that I normally enjoy. Forcing myself to try and fall asleep to it merely ruins my enjoyment of the piece in general. Furthermore, I do not enjoy artificial smelling... aromas. They give me headaches, if anything."
"Okay. What about a hot shower?"
"I already took one." Another thoughtful hum filled the room, making his tea ripple again. He finally managed to drink some, not particularly tasting it.
"May I try something?" Saren looked up, a mistrustful and uncertain expression on his face.
"Such as?" A half-smile finally broke the sniper's emotionless calm.
"Just say yes. I'll try it, and if you don't like it after a few minutes, just say something and I'll stop." A few moments passed in consideration, the world blurring as his eyes unfocused yet again.
"Fine."
Vakarian reached for his left hand, the one not curled around a tea cup, and pulled it to his side of the table. Saren watched absently, waiting to see what the torin thought he could do to a hand that would solve chronic insomnia. Grey hands cradled a silver one between them, thumbs coming down to push lightly into the meat of his palm. With talons curled safely away, the second knuckles providing the surface and pressure, the hands moved over his in slow circles. Up to the base of his fingers, and back down, looping several times. Saren started to feel far away. The grey toned hands moved up and began kneading the dense tendons along his finger bones, working gently around joints, rolling into the pads of his finger tips and pressing against the buried base of his talons. He laid his head down, watching the tea cup and it's continued rippling. Which was... odd... the other torin wasn't... humming anymore... if the.. sound wasn't... from him... it must be...
Then he was gone, flopped out on the table like the galaxy's most dangerous bread roll.
Garrus realized belatedly that he had no idea how to get the Spectre back to his bed without waking him again.
Damn.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Chapter End Notes
[Author's Codex Entry] The Turian Pallet: an Overview of Turian Eating Habits and Dietary Needs
Turians, known to be omnivorous, are metabolically very close to carnivorous. This is reflected in their body type which has no fatty layer, is built for speed over endurance, and of course the well documented tooth and jaw structure. That said, it is easy to see why simple carbohydrates, such as sugars, aren't as widely popular in junk foods for Turian audiences as they are with Asari, Batarians, or Humans. Furthermore, diets high in sugar cause rapid decay of tooth enamel in Turians, at a rate 5 times faster then seen in other species; and though Turian teeth regrow with relative ease as needed, a Turian with nutritional habits high in simple carbohydrates will have other health consequences from over indulging. Thus, salt is the flavoring of choice. The Turian pallet can detect 26 different forms of edible mineral salts, and can pick out the quality of a salt's refinement with ease. On the other hand, this doesn't all mean that Turians do not eat sugar or enjoy the occasional sweet treat, merely that their sense of taste for it isn't nearly as developed or as widely enjoyed.
(Oh yeah, you know what that means? Sweaty humans must taste, literally, delicious. :D )
Fanfic Recommendation: To Catch a Thief-taker (5,088 words) by BlueKrishna (Kasumi Goto/Jondum Bau)