It had been a little over two months since Thracius had come home with Garrus and Tali. He'd learned much since then, about them, about himself, and about the oddities that seemed to lurk beneath the surface of their lives.
For instance, he'd learned if he left his parents in the same room alone for too long, he would wind up hearing the strangest of conversations. The banter was strange, and even though they'd become less prone to forgetting he was there, they still occasionally would, and Thracius would be left to wonder what in the word 'calibrating' meant, let alone what that had to do with 'vaporizer guns', 'thorians', or something called a 'mako'.
He himself had, finally, with the help of his father, mastered control of the vid screen. There weren't many channels, but the aeronautics shows were interesting(Garrus had given him the most bewildered of looks when he said so out loud); he liked the looks of the ships and the planes, and, currently, models of such the like now made up a good deal of his arsenal of toys.
And then, there were the pictures; the ones he'd noticed his first day here. They were of his parent's 'old crew'; friends, more than friends, he'd been told, that had fought by their side during the Reaper War. It had eluded him completely, that day at the orphanage, that he'd just been adopted by two of the biggest heroes in the galaxy, but for some reason, it didn't matter to him as much as he thought it would.
Maybe it was because he'd known them as his new parents before he'd known them as war heroes, and even then, he wasn't sure. But the sight of his mother, his father, standing next to the Commander Shepard... well, everybody knew who Commander Shepard was.
Not to mention the aliens! Asari, Humans(lots of them), Krogan of all things! At the far back of one picture was a freaking prothean, who seemed to have tried his best to make as small a presence in the photo as possible. All in all, a very big crew, with a lot of names and faces he wanted desperately to memorize before he met them all. Oh, it would be so embarrassing to meet the Normandy crew and forget one of their names!
But alas, he'd been told he'd have to wait some time before the threat of making a fool of himself in front of his parent's friends ever presented itself. For this, Thracius was very happy. There were so many faces in those photos... he didn't even want to think about all of them looking at him all at once! The thought made his gizzard quiver uneasily.
By all the skies, he was nervous enough right now; and this was just meeting his aunt and grandfather!
"Keelah, stop fidgeting! You're driving me crazy!" His mother's admonishment was not for him, but his father. Indeed, Garrus seemed far more nervous than he was, the older turian shifting his weight constantly, hopping almost imperceptibly from foot to foot. His mandibles went flickering wildly as the sound of an approaching skycar could be heard from outside.
"Oh, don't yap! That'll be bad luck!" he certainly looked like he was going to lose his lunch.
"More than bad luck; it's a ruined carpet." the older turian tried to joke, but his grin didn't reach his eyes. Thracius swallowed hard. What was making Garrus so nervous? Surely, grandfather can't be scary, can he? Grandfather's weren't supposed to be scary; they were supposed to be grandfathers. So why did his dad look like he wanted to charge upstairs and hide?
"I'm sure it would wash out!" Thracius chirped, patting his father on the knee. Garrus reached down and gripped his smaller hand with his own. There were scars, though not so nearly as severe as the ones on his face, criss-crossing his talons. Cuts and burns from broken gloves, and even a nasty one on his father's wrist where he supposed an omni-tool had rather violently blown out, burning him. He'd asked about the latter; even as young as he was, Thracius knew it took a lot to make an omni explode.
His father had simply said there was a 'bit of an accident', and swiftly dropped the subject. The prosthetic leg had caught him off guard, too; he hadn't even noticed it until later the night he'd arrived. After initially freaking out, and screaming at Tali that they needed to call an ambulance, he'd decided against asking how Garrus had lost his leg, for fear of seeming rude. He'd always thought people with fake legs would walk funny, but the only noticeable difference in his new father's gait was that he had an odd habit of shifting his weight in an odd hop on occasion, as if he were testing to make sure his leg were still attached.
There was a heavy knock at the door, and Thracius felt his father squeeze his hand, and, though Thracius didn't know it, hoped fervently that his own father wouldn't do anything too... Castis-like. Solana, he wasn't worried about. Castis? Oh, yes.
Vakarian Sr. hadn't expected this to ever happen. Garrus was wayward, in every way, shape and form. They'd forged tentative, fragile amends when his mother died(she'd threatened to buck the dirt off her grave and beat them over the heads until they made up if they didn't right then and there), but even afterwards he'd always had his doubts, his discomforts, his disapproval of Garrus' behavior.
He'd been furious, so, so furious when his son refused to comply, refused to go to Andromeda. But... she had been sick. And as much as he hadn't wanted to be here when the Reapers poured through... he couldn't, simply could't, leave the love of his life behind to die alone. And her children wouldn't leave her either; when he'd suggested they apply for the Initiative, Garrus had been on Omega, and promptly ignored him(as per usual), and Solana had told him to go shove a grenade up his nose, because she wasn't running off to a new galaxy 'just because you and Garrus believe in fairy tales!'
She'd changed her tune somewhat after watching Palaven fall.
And then off Garrus went again, running with Specters, krogan, the like! And then he got married... to a quarian. He was honestly out of energy, exhausted with his son's choices. He had already expended all that energy when it came to being shocked in the face of Garrus' life choices. Certainly, when Garrus was born, this was not the life he'd imagined his son living. Tali seemed nice, but still...
And now, a child. At least they'd chosen a turian, but knowing Garrus and his odd tastes, Castis wasn't sure what to expect. And when he knocked on the door, he was even less sure. What was he supposed to do? He had little to no memories of his own grandfather, what was he supposed to do now that he was one?
Oh, why did he ever think to come here!?
Too late, the door was open, and there was his son, mandibles flickering, the scars on his face no less horrible.
"Hey, dad." he said. The customary awkward stare... and thank goodness for Solana.
"Hello, varren-brain!" she chirped, pulling her older brother in for a hug. "Nice place you got here! If you like rocks a lot. You've got a lot of rocks."
"Yes, they're wildly popular, you know." Garrus told her, moving back and gesturing for them to come inside. The home was surprisingly simple, all things considering. As least there isn't any taxidermy... Part of him had expected to find some sort of grizzly trophy from the war hanging on one of the walls, but no; there were only pictures, of Rannoch, of Tali and Garrus, and of the Normandy crew. And... of a young turian.
And there he was, half-hiding behind the arm of a couch. He would grow up to be an item of jealousy, Castis could tell just by looking at him. He had a light, pale russet coloration that looked like it might lighten to more of a copper tone as he grew, and there were flecks of gray, which would shine out to silver as he hit adolescence, scattered across his facial scales, like someone had spilled water on him in some places. His eyes were a piercing amber color, and lowered in shyness.
This was his grandson. The realization was only clear now, like a bolt of lightning. Not a thought or experience he'd ever thought he would have, especially during the Reaper War.
"Hello." the boys greeted. Solana strode forwards, bold as she was, her mandibles parted in a wide grin.
"Hello, Thracius. I'm Solana, just call me Sol." she held out her hand, and he shook it shyly.
"Hi, Sol." Tali chose that moment to come out into the living room. On Rannoch, she could live without her suit for short periods of time. Her glowing eyes raked down Catsis' body, as if assessing him, and her hair, yes, hair, was tied back in a loose ponytail.
"Solana, Castis. It's good to finally meet you." She nodded. They had been stuck on opposite sides of the galaxy during the wedding, the relays had still been under repair. What with how often he and Garrus actually talked, all he knew about his daughter-in-law was that she'd fought beside him on the Normandy since Saren had been at large, as a tech expert and one of the ship's engineers.
"Yes... very nice." was all he managed to say. He tried not to stare at the child, but his eyes were drawn to him.
"Great! It's nice to finally meet the woman who tamed my thrice-cursed brother. Just have to ask; how'd you do it?" Solana shook Tali's hand enthusiastically.
"I ground him when he breaks the rules." the quarian replied. "And I restrict his thanix privileges when he tries to sneak out... even if he does build a smaller version when nobody's looking."
"Hey, that was one time!" Garrus protested. "Besides; it was mostly Javik's fault, he encouraged me."
"Dad, what's a thanix?" Thracius asked shyly.
"A really big gun on a ship." the smaller turian's eyes lit up at the word 'ship'.
"That reminds me!" Solana slid her bag to the floor and opened it, digging around in it. As she did so, Garrus shut the door.
"Dad, sit down, he doesn't bite." his son hissed through his teeth. Castis blinked rapidly. He did look rather awkward just standing around, didn't he? He stiffly made his way to the couch. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it felt strange.
"A Xerias X10-25!" Thracius suddenly cried out, snatching a model ship from Solana's hands. "It's only just started flying, it's not even been circu-culated into the fleets yet!"
"Someone told me you liked ships." the female turian winked at her brother. "I figured you wouldn't have this one by now."
"I don't!" the child bounced up and down on his heels, waving the ship around as if making it fly. It was sleek and black, and his eyes shone as he looked back up at Solana. "Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
Castis couldn't help a flash of envy. His daughter seemed to have won the child over in just an instance, but he could barely bring himself to say two words to the boy! What did he say?
"What other ships do you have?" the female turian asked. Thracius set his new toy on the ground and stormed up the stairs, always putting both feet on a step before moving up.
"You know, I have a list of people I know who might be afraid of children; you weren't on it." Garrus said as soon as Thracius was out of earshot. "Just so you know, he's not like me. Yet. I mean, he hasn't blown up the kitchen yet, but I'm keeping an eye out..."
"By my gizzard, let's hope not." Castis shook his head. "That day was a nightmare."
"Dad, just relax." Solana urged. "And don't do that thing you do."
"Thing?" he asked, tipping one mandible and raising a brow plate.
"The thing where you ask if he knows how to shoot yet." Garrus said, waving one talon in a circular motion as if to say, 'duh, that thing'. "You asked all our cousins that... even if they were only three."
"We're turians; knowing how to shoot is in our blood." Castis reminded him."There's nothing wrong with learning early."
"Oh, there is. Trust me. There is." His eyes narrowed in subtle accusation. "The war's over; he'll learn when I think he's ready."
Castis could read between the lines; 'my kid, not yours, don't you even think about telling me how to raise him'. For all the Garrus-ish arrogance of it, Castis couldn't help but feel that smallest trickle of... what? Pride? Admiration that his son already seemed to be hefting and reserving some of the responsibilities of being a parent? The initiative he might be showing? Well, at least I can stop worrying a little.
He'd thought Garrus would make a terrible parent, seeing as he never seemed to have grown up, what with the way he sometimes acted... he was like a big kid himself.
"So, what are you planning to do when work takes you out in the galaxy again?" Castis asked. He, Tali and Garrus were all on the upstairs balcony, out in the night sea air of Rannoch. Garrus could hear the waves crashing on the cliffs in the distance, and he stars shone so much more brightly overhead than they did in a city. He'd never noticed how dull stars were in cities until Tali had convinced him to live out here.
Solana was still inside with Thracius. He couldn't help but smirk; his sister was completely infatuated with her new 'aunt' role, and he was glad to know that at least she seemed to adore the boy. Sometimes he couldn't help but wonder how the rest of the old crew would react when they finally met him... He shook his head. That wouldn't happen for a while; managing so many children may have worn Wrex out some, but not worn out enough that he and Grunt still didn't butt heads... literally. And there was a fair amount of head butting from Javik as well, actually.
I told him a year on Tuchanka didn't qualify as a vacation... Even if he himself was partially guilty of occasional headbutts himself(much to the disapproval of Chakwas,who would sigh and warn he was going to knock his cybernetics out of alignment, he wouldn't stand by while Grunt, even a drunk Grunt, called him barefaced).
"Ahem. Head out of the clouds, Garrus, I asked you a question." He felt his mandibles twitch in frustration at the line he'd heard so many times as a child.
"As far as the council knows, I'm not even here; I'm gatecrashing merc operations in the Terminus Systems, posting as a pirate. Also, Javik and Samara are with me. Apparently. We've got a pilot named Vlad, and he really likes whole grain and dill pickles." Garrus scratched as his scars, a habit that had carried on from when the bandages prevented him from scratching at the scabs when they itched. "I've even made requisitions to make it look legit. I just hope Javik and Samara enjoy all the grenades their being sent."
"And when they realize mercs aren't dropping dead?" Tali tried to point out for the millionth time.
"I'll tell them a moon got blown up. " He offered. "And so we've gotta lay low for a while, people hate you when your buddies blow up moons."
His father sighed and buried his face in his hands. His father didn't like the company that inhabited the Normandy, it was no secret. But he was just going to have to deal with it; the crew were like a second family to Garrus, even if they were scattered across the galaxy save three days out of the year. Their faults, their odd quirks, and their exotic origins and all. Even the tea-guzzling kleptomaniac master thief, Kasumi.
"I'll still be here when Garrus has to go back out. And the new school system will be up and running soon, he'll be part of the first wave of students." Tali assured Vakarian Sr. "Once that happens, we won't have to worry about him being alone in the house too long while I'm busy with the geth."
"But when he is home alone? Do you know exactly how much trouble young turians get up to?" Castis' mandibles twitched in amusement. "Remember that kitchen I mentioned? And he wasn't even looking for trouble."
"Go ahead and hang it over my head, old man." Garrus grumbled. "I stand by what I said that day; I was getting a head start on my career."
"I'll say." Tali commented.
"Son, I'm going to tell you what your mother told me when you were Thracius' age and needed an outlet. By my gizzard, I wish I'd listened to her, because it would have at least taught you how to take initiative." Castis shook his head.
"And... what did she tell you?" he asked cautiously.
"Get the boy a rou'tan." Garrus searched his eyes for any hint of a joke, but the cold steel look said he plainly wasn't kidding; he was being dead serious. Rou'tan were similar to earth's dogs, but were native to Palaven, usually black and skeletal-looking. Most people thought they looked like the stuff of nightmares, but they were actually quite docile. And Garrus, of all people, knew how not to judge a book by it's cover... or a hideous dog-thing by the way it looked like... well, a hideous dog-thing. They were actually quite popular, and becoming more so now that quarians could actually keep pets now(rou'tan on a flotilla ship had generally been considered a bad idea).
"Get him a rou'tan?" Garrus echoed. Leave it to mom... it sounded exactly like the sort of advice she would give. His mother had loved animals. 'Good for the spirits!' she would say, 'Living and dead!'
"Yup. Get him a rou'tan." Castis looked out past the cliffs, eyes scanning. "Not too shabby a venue you chose."
"Yeah. But we didn't just chose it for the venue, you know." Tali agreed. Garrus' father nodded.
"I had a feeling, after we went through d-con that something was off about the roundabout path we were given." It was a way of saying 'I've seen the precautions you've taken.' "This have anything to do with that incident?"
He nodded down at Garrus' leg. He winced.
"I've told you before, it was just a bit of an accident." Well, it was partially true. "Besides; anyone we made angry doing that, we probably killed them, or they think we died in the blast."
That was what he kept telling himself. What they all kept telling themselves. But the truth was in the precautions; he wasn't sure that would be the end of it. And then he and Tali decided to have a kid... how could they take that chance? It was far too risky. And though his many forays into the Terminus Systems since then had yielded little to no evidence, he couldn't help but feel that day was just the tip of the iceberg, to use a human term.
His father gave a thoughtful hum. "Well, I'll get the truth of it out of you someday." He had never really told anyone the full story. There were too many personal ghosts involved with the tale, and not just his own. The kind of ghosts you kept your mouth shut about unless given express permission by the hauntee to mention them.
"Eh, the truth's overrated and dramatic." Dramatic, certainly. And explosive, of course. One does not simply strand two or more members of the Normandy crew on a small moon and expect there to be peace. That poor planet the Normandy had crashed on after the Crucible fired had certainly learned that lesson the hard way...
"I expect nothing less." Castis said. Backed away from the railing. "Sol and I ought to get settled at the hotel. This is a business trip, after all."
Yeah, tricking a cartel smuggling geth tech counts as business these days... But it was an unfortunate part of the job description. His father had dealt with this group before, and he needed his help now. And these days, geth tech could also be geth parts, and since the geth were now fully-functioning sentient beings with emotions... well, not a lot of people wanted to call it murder or organ harvesting since they were synthetics, but that was what it was in essence, and it had bothered Tali greatly. His father paused in the doorway.
"For what it's worth... he's a good kid. You chose a good kid." with that he was gone. Garrus let out a heavy breath of air. The entire visit was a little nerve-wracking. This was his father, and he'd been afraid of what might be said about and to Thracius. When the older turian had actually talked to the child, he'd been relieved the conversation hadn't been as bad as he'd imagined it. At least he wouldn't have to worry about any off conversations for the next day, at least...
"By my gizzard, I think I just relaxed!" This earned a huff of laughter from Tali.
Not a lot of changes to this one, but I hope those who noticed them find the story better for it in the end.
Fare Thee Well!