Disclaimer: I am not in any way related to Bioware or the Mass Effect series. I am making no profit from writing this and am doing so purely for pleasure.
Pairings: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian
Summary: [What would it have been like if Shepard and Garrus had met as equals?] Spectre Vakarian decides to tag along on Shepard's mission to take down Saren. Their partnership develops in ways neither of them expected, with lots of banter and fluff. This story arc follows ME1 canon, with some liberties taken.
Air and Lightning
20. In which Shepard wakes up
It was over.
Her entire body was one gigantic bone-deep ache cut up by millions of sharp pains. There was too much dust and grit in the air for her to breathe properly, and breathing hurt like a bitch anyway. She couldn't see anything, with blood and sweat in her eyes and rock surrounding her, pinning her down. Her ears still rang with the scream of a dying Reaper and the thunder of collapsing towers, and in her mind the explosion of twin shots echoed repeatedly.
Twin shots – his in the head, and hers in the heart.
She remembered Saren's glowing corpse staggering. She remembered Wrex roaring with fury and pain, charging forward to smash his enemy against the wall, before throwing himself out of the way for his friends, his own gun crushed, useless, giving them that precious instant, that split second, to aim at the finally stunned walking corpse. She remembered the two of them firing in sync one last time, Garrus matching her bullet for bullet, head and heart.
She remembered the abomination finally dropping, lights winking out. She remembered passing her shotgun to Wrex, remembered Garrus dropping down next to her with his assault rifle, remembered bracing her own pistol as they converged on the corpse and fired until their guns were smoking. Until the corpse was unrecognisable, a mere smear of flesh and blood and circuitry on the walls and floor.
She remembered the Citadel caving in on them. She remembered pushing her team out of the way. She remembered the anguished, disbelieving look on Garrus' face and the pleading of his blue eyes.
She remembered thinking that it wasn't so bad, that he should be the last thing she saw.
Yet it was over, and she was alive.
She wanted to shout in gleeful victory. She wanted to scream knowing that even though this one fight was over, the war had yet to come. She wanted to cry with sheer relief, or in sheer pain. She wanted to laugh in Sovereign's face. She wanted –
She wanted to smile at her team, her crew, and together bask in the knowledge that they had done it.
Shepard realised that through the ringing in her ears, she could hear shouting. Lots of people shouting. She strained to listen, coughing.
"– not dead, damn you! We need to get an excavation team in here –"
"We've got a critical shortage of manpower, Spectre Vakarian –"
"I don't care if all we've got left is a salarian, I want people here digging –"
"We can't spare hands to shift rubble in search of a corpse –"
"She's not dead!"
With a groan, Shepard forced herself to move. She struggled to lift her arms enough to activate her omni-tool, which had been knocked offline sometime in the combat. The rocks around her pushed back, making her fight for every movement. Her ribs screamed, the pain of it enough to bring tears to her eyes, and she had to strain as hard as she'd ever done to even hold a finger to her omni-tool to reboot it, but she finally did it. She let herself slump back with relief as the display flickered into life, coughing weakly. Was it her imagination, or was the dust getting thicker? Maybe it was all settling down now, and just her luck, it was all settling down on her.
"Voice activation," she croaked, and rattled off the password she'd set on the system. The omni-tool beeped in recognition. "Call Garrus Vakarian."
In a couple of seconds the comm channel burst into life. "Shepard! Hold on – I'm triangulating on your position now –"
She heard Anderson's voice, gruff and dear. "Medic! We're going to need you here!"
"Shepard, just hang on."
She opened her mouth to say something, but a fit of coughing made it impossible. Panic gripped her as she fought for breath, her lungs straining, her ribs – at least a couple broken – feeling like they were stabbing through her. She couldn't draw in enough air. She couldn't breathe.
Oh, hell no. After all that, only to die of suffocation because of some dust?
"Shepard!"
She could only wheeze, her vision clouding.
"We need an oxygen tank now!" Good old Anderson.
She could hear a frantic buzz of activity, drawing closer. The world greyed.
"Wrex! On three!"
"That's too heavy for you! It's impossible –"
"When we lift it, I don't care how you do it but get that damn mask on her!"
"The cord will get cut off –"
"Someone wedge a rock in! One! Two! Three!"
She heard two alien roars above her, and suddenly there was light and air. A hand thrust an oxygen mask on her face. She caught a hazy glimpse of Anderson's face all twisted with effort as he and another human hauled a good-sized chuck of rock in place, and then she could breathe again and the sudden shock made her convulse.
A familiar three-fingered hand touched her face, held her still so that her thrashing didn't shake off the mask. "If you die on me now, Shepard, you're going to regret what I'm putting on your tombstone."
A laugh tried to escape her, but it made things worse.
"Damn, sorry. Making you laugh is probably not the best thing right now."
Under all his humour, she could still hear his worry, his tension. He'd always used humour as a defence mechanism. She reached up, but before she could move any further his hand quickly caught hers, anticipating her intent. She squeezed his hand lightly but was startled when she heard a gasp of pain.
"Don't worry, it's nothing. Just some bruises."
Bruises? On his palms? She moved her grip to his wrist and tugged. There was another gasp, and she let go of him instantly.
"Honestly, Shepard. I'm fine."
"He nearly crushed his hands and pulled some muscles moving that rock off you." That was Wrex, sounding gruffly concerned and slightly impressed. "It was a feat of strength worthy of a krogan."
"Wrex…"
"What? Hiding your injuries is only worrying her, Vakarian."
She was breathing normally again, and everything hurt less with that one simple change. She reached up, bracing herself against the pain, and took off the mask.
It was immediately pressed back onto her face. Opening her eyes, she glared at the blue eyes hovering above hers.
"Shepard, even you must realise that it's a stupid move."
She glared harder.
With a sigh, he let go. She lifted the mask and said, "Is there any reason I'm still lying here?" Then she put it back on, and raised an eyebrow at Garrus. See, her eyes told him, I'm being good.
His mandibles twitched in a reluctant smile. "The doctor's worried that moving you will exacerbate any serious injuries you might have."
"I'm surprised the doc isn't hovering here now instead of you."
Garrus twitched. "Uh…"
A human voice sounded from behind his bulk. "This doc was about to, but then got shoved aside by an angry turian."
Shepard snorted. "Garrus, I didn't think your protective streak could get any worse, but I should have realised that you're going to keep surprising me until the day I die."
He winced. "Don't say that."
She sighed. "I've got a couple of broken ribs, a hell of a lot of cuts and bruises and scrapes, and I think I've pulled a calf muscle and an arm. Otherwise, I'm perfectly fine. Can you yank me out from under this rock now?"
"Uh… right." Garrus started to pull back.
"Garrus?"
He paused. "Yes?"
"We… won, right? At least for now?"
His expression softened. How could anyone think that turians were expressionless and hard to read? "Yes, Shepard. You did it."
"We all did it."
He shook his head, amused. "Sure." It was clear he didn't believe her, but then he vanished from her sight before she could say anything.
Then hands reached out to her and grabbed hold. She knew she'd judged her injuries correctly, but perhaps those outside had taken her too much at her word when she said she was fine. The sudden movement made her cry out, pain overwhelming her in a flash. Darkness swarmed over her vision, and she finally gave in.
When she woke again, it was to an unfamiliar med bay. Not the Normandy's, though the medical lights and sounds and smells were universal enough. She breathed in before opening her eyes, turning to look at the person she sensed next to her.
Garrus grinned from the chair by her bed. "We've got to stop meeting like this," he teased.
She snorted. "The day either of us stops getting hurt is –"
"The day we die, yes, yes."
"Glad to see you're feeling better."
"Shouldn't that be my line?"
"How long?"
"A Citadel day and a half."
Shepard tested a few of her muscles. "Huh. The worst of my injuries are already healing... Citadel medical tech is impressive. Remind me to get some onto the ship." She eyed his lightly bandaged arms. "How are your hands?"
Garrus waggled his fingers at her. "Nearly healed, they'll be as good as new in a day or so," he said. "So don't worry. You've got flowers, by the way."
"Flowers?" Only then did Shepard notice the masses of bouquets lining every available surface on the room. Quite a few were on easel-like props and stood by themselves. "The hell?"
Garrus grimaced. "You should be glad you don't have my nose. Being in this room is like drowning in solid perfume."
"You didn't have to stay."
He gave her a Look. "For your sake, I'll pretend I didn't hear that."
She snorted, but felt secretly pleased.
"These are only a small fraction of what you've got, by the way. The entire hallway is lined with gifts. I took the liberty of telling hospital staff to distribute all the various food and to throw away the flora if things got out of hand, but at the moment I think they'd rather kick some patients out than mess with Commander Shepard's stuff."
"Food?"
"Yeah, most of the gifts have been flowers because that's apparently the traditional human thing to do, but some people stuck to their own traditions. Food and flowers we're keeping here, but the more permanent things are being sent to the Normandy as they come."
"Dare I even ask?"
Garrus grinned. "Artistic pieces, like sculptures and painting. Pretty stones. Clothes –"
"Clothes?"
"I think you've got enough to furnish an entire apartment by now."
Shepard groaned. "Couldn't I get some nice mods? A new gun or two? Hell, maybe a rocket launcher, if they're feeling generous?"
"You've got some of those too."
She snorted. "Should have known. You couldn't have told me that sooner?"
"Hey, if you hadn't asked, I'd have kept them for myself."
It had been meant as a joke, but instead it reminded her, sobered her, and she looked at him again with a serious expression. "Have you gotten anything?"
His eyes widened, and he did that uncomfortable mandible flutter. He gamely tried to brush it off. "I've got your mods," he teased. "The flowers you can keep."
"Garrus."
He sighed. "Shepard."
"Those last shots were ours. Wrex had a part to play, too. Hell, we should all of us share the credit – the whole ship took part in chasing down Saren and forcing him to that point. Joker was the one who led the assault on Sovereign itself."
"You were the one we followed. Nothing would have happened without you."
"The Council could have just as easily given you command of the Saren hunt, back then. It was luck and politics that it fell to me, but it could have been you."
"Do you remember our talk, back on the Normandy?"
"Which one?" she said, deliberately obtuse.
His look told her he wasn't buying it. "It's still true, Shepard. Even if I'd had command, I wouldn't have been able to lead the same way you did. I've always worked alone as a Spectre. I thought that other people would only hold me back. I was so determined to prove myself, that I could succeed on my own... You taught me whatever I know about leading and inspiring people, Shepard. It could only have been you."
She looked away, feeling the heat in her cheeks. "The lot of you always make me out to be some damn angel, some unspoiled hero. I'm not, Garrus. I'm nowhere near as good and flawless as you make me out to be."
There was silence. It dragged out long enough that Shepard risked turning back to face him despite her blush, looking at him askance. The intensity of his stare, as if he was looking at every inch of her, make the blush return twice as strong.
"I know," he said, and in his quiet voice there was both tenderness and steel. "But you're the best of us anyway, flaws and all, and that's what I… what I appreciate about you."
"You give quite the pep-talk," Shepard managed to say, though her heat was speeding up again and she was fighting a damn silly smile.
"Spirits, Shepard, haven't you realised by now that I am awesome at everything?"
She burst out laughing. "You're also very humble."
"Damn right."
"I… appreciate you a lot, too, Garrus."
He grinned. "Good to hear. After fighting off reporters, weeping families, screaming fans, and the Council itself for you, I think I deserve some appreciation."
Shepard covered her face with a hand. "Oh god, all of that?"
"Waiting to descend upon you the moment you're awake," Garrus said cheerfully.
"I'm awake right now."
"Ah, but I've been scrambling the signals transmitted from this room to the nurses' station since you woke up. You're still in a coma, dead to the outside world."
She gaped at him. "You're kidding."
He sat back, looking incredibly satisfied. "Is this more appreciation coming my way I hear?"
"Garrus, if I could move my aching muscles, you'd better believe that I'd appreciate the hell out of you."
He paused. Then mandibles slowly flexed, and the light in his blue eyes changed as he tilted his head in a very suggestive manner.
"Oh, for…" Shepard hid her face in her hands again. "You're a bad influence."
"I sincerely hope so." He laughed, and then she felt a warm hand on her thigh. Thankfully her face was already red, because otherwise she'd be dizzy from the sudden rush of blood to her cheeks. "Get some rest. I'll see if I can sneak some of the team in while you're still, ah, supposedly unconscious. I'll keep everyone else off you until you're ready."
"I don't think I'll ever be ready," she muttered. "Can't we just go back to the Normandy and fly away?"
"Not this time, I'm afraid."
"Damn."
"For what it's worth, though, I'll be right next to you."
She smiled at him, putting all her affection and gratitude into it. "Partners?"
He smiled back, matching her emotion for emotion, with a soft light in his eyes. "Always."
"I like the sound of that."
End Chapter 20
Author's Note: All your lovely reviews made me wriggle in happiness, so here's another chapter right on the heels of the old one to thank you all (:
From here on, as you probably realised, we are past ME1 canon and now it's just me and my imagination. Until now, I've skipped a lot of canon content so the timeline of this fic moved really fast, because I didn't want to and didn't see the need to rehash all the fights and canon scenes that we're all familiar with, but now the time is going to be drawn out slowly day by day. Hope you guys won't find it too draggy.
Ashen Skies
"We've got to stop meeting like this."