For a moment she could recall her life on Mindoir in perfect clarity. The faces of her family. The smell of fresh hay in an Autumn breeze. Like butter from a knife, it slipped from her grasp, leaving nothing but smeared, blurry images. She strained. Constellations flickered between her fingers while the memories fled beyond reach.
As her eyelids cracked, a dark, static room greeted her. A three fingered hand on her shoulder was gently pressing, rousing her from the nightmare. She smiled at the feeling, knowing who it was.
Yet, the next thing she heard was Mordin's shrill voice.
"Jane. Can speak? Try."
She opened her mouth, it felt like she'd been munching on cotton furniture. The words stuck to the back of her throat. Half a second ago, she was certain Garrus had been there. Her eyes searched the room, spotting him taught against the far wall staring at his hands, mandibles clenched tightly to his face. Perhaps more time passed than she realized.
"Surgery a success. Just need to be sure facilities intact. Try to speak."
"Mm'fine. Is..it… is … it out?" Only one question burned at the back of her mind. That thing had been the bane of her existence for years.
"Yes. Yes. Inhibitor removal successful." Mordin spoke while shining a blinding light directly into her eyeball. She peeked in Garrus's direction the moment the spots cleared. He was mumbling into his com, clenching a rifle.
"Pupillary response intact. Communication intact. Will be fine. Will be fine."
"Oh thank goodness. You gave us such a scare." Nalah practically bubbled over. Following her gaze to Garrus, she continued. "There's nothing to worry about hon. They're only setting up extra security around the clinic. Everyone's here in case that awful gang followed us. But you're safe, we're all safe." The woman was stroking her hair, pulling random strands out of her face.
Jane sucked on an ice chip as Garrus retreated down the hallway. Before leaving, he nodded in her direction, announced his relief at her recovery, then left for more pressing matters. Asses to kick. People to interrogate. One thing she'd learned about the turian is that he had a zero tolerance policy for malicious intent towards his squad. There would be hell to pay for the attack.
After Garrus departed, it was just her and Jane. The young woman scarcely managed to keep her eyes open more than a few minutes before succumbing to the heavy sedatives. And Nalah settled in for the long haul.
Three days had passed since the ambush. Yet, she remained on edge. Watching Jane charge into enemy fire invoked something in her that she thought long dead. For just a moment, it felt as though she were witnessing one of her own racing towards certain death. She'd clutched at her chest, unable to breathe. That haunting despair didn't merely resurface, it overthrew every bone in her body. Time and perspective muted things, but that gaping hole was a permanent, festering wound. A parent never recovers from their children's passing. But Jane's presence soothed her. Gave her a sense of purpose. She smiled to herself. Maybe it was she who needed Jane and not the other way round.
Jane's newness to the galaxy made her seem innocent, even childlike. She asked the most basic questions, listening with rapt attention and wide, guileless eyes. Surrounded by tech she'd never encountered before – simple things such as modern light commands and omni-calling had been fantastical discoveries.
But after watching that small figure charge into a barrage of bullets, standing between men more than twice her size and certain death, she knew that this was no mere child. Lying in a hospital bed, the slip of a woman looked so small, so frail. It was a little awe-inspiring. Knowing the power that lurked in her, just beneath the surface.
Garrus stormed out of the clinic, intent on checking the latest patrol. Refusing to take any chances, he evacuated the base after the ambush. He and his men remained vigilant to any threats near the clinic. It was obvious the krogan sent spies to track his movement. And the last thing they needed was another surprise.
Ripper was leaning against a wall, cigarette in hand. When he emerged, the human stubbed the butt with his foot. "She gon' be okay?"
"Yeah. Mordin says she's out of the woods. Where's Krul?"
"He at the pizzeria. Said you's bein' paranoid. Three days an' no attack. No com chatter 'bout The Pack neither. They's ghosts."
Garrus snorted. "He just wanted a slice. They're most likely regrouping off station. Trust me, we haven't seen the last of Garm. Like you humans say, I feel it in my gut. He'll be back. And we'll be ready." Ripper's gaze lingered on him for a moment too long, rankling against his hide. "What?"
"Been a bit tense boss."
That was an understatement. The entire thing was his fault. He'd underestimated The Blood Pack and Jane, the one person who hadn't signed up for any of it, paid the price.
To be honest, part of him was shocked. Sure they'd spoken several times now, and he'd grown to respect the young woman. Surviving what she had and coming out the other side took a level of strength few possessed. He'd probably be a jibbering, chipped lunatic were he in her shoes. Yet, he hadn't the faintest clue that she cared enough to risk her life. A wave of guilt washed over him. The one time she asks him to watch her back and he fucks it up. Majorly.
"Let's just say I want to be certain we're never caught with our pants down again."