Author's Note: This entire chapter started as a spur-of-the-moment Grunt drabble written in Discord for my friend Aroaceaaah on AO3. It turned into this whole thing. About a hamster.

Enjoy!

Date: Dec. 12, 2185
Location: Normandy SR-2, Cabin.
Mission: Return trip from Omega-4 Relay. Ship is scheduled to be transferred to Alliance custody.

Grunt seized the cage with more force than intended, and set it on the desk. As carefully as he could, he pulled off the top, slid a hand in, and cornered the tiny living thing inside; then, gripping it as loosely as he could without dropping it, he plopped the terrified hamster on the ground.

"Be free, little one."

It sat there, curled in a ball, shivering; he prodded it with a foot, then crouched down and poked it. The lack of response made him worry - the tiny thing was delicate and he was very big and strong! - so he laid on the floor awkwardly, squinting at it, trying to make sure it was still alive.

"I know you're scared," he rumbled. "You have spent your entire life in a... a..." The only word he could remember was yehveh; he ground his teeth. The word was Covus, borrowed for science the krogan did not have (but do now, he thinks with no small amount of satisfaction). The word fit awkwardly in his mouth - so he swapped it for uzmuaple. Less accurate, but more genuine. More krogan.

Still, he skipped that word. "You do not know where you are now. Everything outside of your head looks bigger." He sucked in a breath, the filtered ship air crisp and familiar. "When you are in a... in your head," he said, "you are the biggest thing. Everything does not have scale," he stated, happily picking the word. He was learning more languages now; Shepard was teaching him!

"It is big and unfamiliar and you cannot know who to trust. So you must rely on your own self," he continued, prodding it again with one large finger. It curled in on itself even more. "You know yourself from your time in... from before. That gets you through your path. You learn," he said almost forcefully. "I have been learning." He set his large chin on his other hand, keeping one eye on the shivering ball of fur.

"Sheparrrrd..." Shepard, his battle-master, his teacher, his friend. "Shepard is... good. Shepard takes good care of you and me." He glanced aside at it again; it had started to uncurl slightly, and he lets it be. "Your before-time is over. It is time for you to go and learn. If you are caught by the new people they will not take as good care of you."

The hamster had uncurled slightly, and was sniffing the air. Grunt watched it with interest, not speaking for a few moments.

"Go." He slowly reached out; as he did so, it began to curl up again. "Go. I cannot stay here. Go!" It curled up even more.

His exit from his uzmuaple was not gentle. It was harsh, life-water draining and leaving his skin raw to the air, the gravity pulling at him like hands dragging him down, down, down into the Tuchanka pits. The sound of the ship, of Shepard, of his own breathing was deafening, like the scream of a thresher maw, without the liquid to filter it.

Grunt roared.

The hamster jumped and skittered forward as fast as its little legs can carry it; it seemed to flinch at every item it passed, frightened, but as soon as it realized the item wasn't a threat, it leaped forward with fearful enthusiasm and kept running.

Good. It will learn. Grunt did. The world works differently than he expected it to, but that's okay. He'll learn, and hopefully, so will his new friend.

Date: Sept. 5, 2186
Location: Normandy SR-2, Engineering Deck.
Mission: Unassigned

Shepard crouched, eyes narrowed, target clear in her line of sight. She took a steadying breath, then leaped forward.

Her quarry ran on all fours, and Shepard crashed headlong into the table.

Shepard groaned, and lay there for a few moments before heaving herself up, using the table to pull herself to stand. "Damn it."

Squeak!

Shepard made a face. "I'll get you sooner or later, you know."

Engineering had called her up early that morning, when she was still trying to shake off sleep with a cup of coffee, and had requested mousetraps. Confused, she had taken the time to ask what was going on - mice on a spaceship?

Some tiny thing, they answered, had taken up residence on the lower deck, squeaking as people ran past, and they were worried it would eat through some of the wiring, or cause some other form of malfunction.

So she went down to the deck herself, still somewhat perplexed. She stood there for some time, and just when she was about to turn to go back upstairs - squeak! Something small bolted from behind a crate to the table.

She had stared. "You should be dead by now."

It hadn't seemed to care, watching her with cautious, beady black eyes. So, slowly, she had crouched and leaped for it.

Currently, she leaned against one of the crates, not moving, trying to lull it into a sense of security before she leaped at it again. She stayed silent and waited, patiently, for several minutes; then it slowly peeked out and began to venture out from behind the crates once more.

"Shepard! How's it going?"

"DAMN IT - " Shepard lunged as the hamster scurried back behind the crate, crashing to the floor.

"Uh - "

Shepard turned from where she sat on the floor and glared. "You made me miss it."

Garrus stayed where he was, one hand raised, frozen. "Miss what?"

"The hamster."

His brows shot up. "Hamster?"

Shepard made a frustrated noise and stood, then set her hands on her hips. "My old hamster. From back when we were going after the Collectors. Remember? I had a hamster."

Garrus seemed to mull this information over. "A hamster," he mused. "Who keeps a hamster on a warship?"

Shepard glared again, and Garrus stared back, one brow raised, his mandible twitching in the hint of a smirk. "Shut up and help me catch him, if you're going to stand there gawking."

Garrus snorted and crossed his arms. "What do I get if I catch it?"

"My eternal adoration," Shepard said sarcastically, then nudged him. "Either help or go away. Your big bird face is going to scare him."

Garrus made a mock gasp of indignance, one hand to his chest. "I'll have you know, this face is considered pretty attractive, with the scars and all. People think it's sexy." He wiggled his eyebrows.

Shepard fought back a laugh and instead pretended to scoff, waving a hand. "A hamster won't give a shit, you dolt. It's all the same to him."

"You're scaring him, too, with all your leaping at him." Garrus grinned and waved a hand at her in return. "You talk about me, but it's YOUR face that's been flying at him."

"He knows me, watch." Shepard bent down and eyed the crate warily, then wiggled two fingers in front of the little nook formed by the crate and the one behind it. "Here, little guy… Come on…"

Garrus almost broke his mocking composure for a moment, fighting not to laugh, and crept forward until he could bend down and, with a quick movement, he jabbed his fingers - not harshly enough to hurt - on either side of her ribs.

Shepard let out a little shriek and whipped around, smacking Garrus firmly in the side of the face; he yelped and stumbled back, laughing. "Garrus!" she complained. "I almost had him!"

"No you didn't," Garrus said plainly as the laughter subsided. "The thing's scared of both of us. Come on."

Shepard sighed and stood up, brushing her clothing. "Where?"

"I've got an idea."

Fifteen minutes later, armed with a bit of fruit jam, a small tub, a rod, and a string, the two marched back down the stairs to the lower engineering deck.

"This is ridiculous," Shepard complained. "We could just - "

"Keep charging at him and running into walls and crates until our remaining brain cells depart this life?" Garrus asked innocently, and dodged her following kick, laughing. "This will work, Commander. Trust me."

Shepard rolled her eyes, but followed along as Garrus set the tub upside-down on the floor.

"Jam?" he asked.

"Yep." Shepard squeezed a bit of the jam onto her finger before handing it over, then stuck it in her mouth. "Mm. Excellent."

Garrus squinted at the tube and experimentally stuck his tongue out before Shepard whacked him on the shoulder.

"Quit it," she advised. "You'll only make yourself sick."

Garrus chuckled and smeared a bit of the jam on the floor. "Yeah, yeah. I don't need a lecture on it, Shepard," he said wryly. "It always tastes like poison, anyway. Or chemicals. Like cleaning fluid."

"Then why do you keep trying to eat it?" she asked, taking the tube back and squeezing more onto her finger.

"The textures," he said simply. "They're a lot more varied than dextro food." He took the rod and was carefully propping one end of the tub up, balancing it precariously on the rod. "Oh, wait." He held the rod out to Shepard, who tied one end of the string to it.

"This is ridiculous," she repeated, though she was grinning.

"It's totally going to work, though," Garrus insisted, back to trying to prop up the tub. It took him a few moments, but he managed to prop it up right over the smeared jam. "Okay, quick!"

They both hurried to the bottom of the stairs, Shepard trailing the string behind her. "How long do you think we need to wait?" she asked quietly.

"How am I supposed to know? You're the one who kept this thing as a pet a year or two ago."

"The trap was your idea!"

"That doesn't mean I know anything about hamsters!"

Squeak!

"AH - " Shepard yanked the string, pulling the rod out, and the tub clattered to the floor. "Did we get it?"

"It didn't even get under the tub," Garrus said with a snort. "Use your eyes next time, oh great Commander Shepard."

Shepard stuck her tongue out at his back as he turned to set up the tub and rod again. "Don't get sassy with me, Vakarian."

"I get sassy with everyone. You think you're special?" he asked, turning, his eyes twinkling; he stuck his tongue out at her in turn. "Okay. Here we go." He finished balancing the rod, then hurried back to Shepard and grabbed for the string.

"Hey! It's my hamster."

"It's my trap!"

"I should be the one to trap him!"

"You didn't even get it last time!" Garrus insisted, reaching for the string again; Shepard danced backwards.

"Come on, Garrus, it's my hamster."

"That doesn't mean you know how to work the trap," he stated.

Shepard laughed. "It's not that difficult."

"Might I remind you again that you couldn't even get it last time? Clearly it requires a more finessed touch."

"Finessed? Okay, Mr. Delicate, you - "

"Shepard!"

"Hm?"

Garrus pointed; the hamster was slowly venturing out. "Shush!"

"Don't shush me," Shepard said hotly, though she lowered her voice all the same, crouching down, gripping the string tightly. "Come on, little guy… There you go…"

Garrus squinted; Shepard glanced over and instantly had to fight back another laugh, recognizing the expression as his sniper's-concentration face. She smiled, relenting.

"You want to give it a go?" she whispered, and held out the string.

He glanced at her, mildly surprised. "Really?"

"Your trap, like you said. Plus, I recognize that sniper face, you dolt," she said with a grin.

Garrus laughed, and took the string. "I'm concentrating!" he said.

"I can see that. Hey - pay attention!" She pointed to the tub.

"Come on… a little further… a little… gotcha!" Garrus tugged the string as the hamster ventured forward a little more, and the tub clattered into place over the little rodent.

Shepard whooped and jumped up, slapping Garrus on the shoulder, who laughed again and walked over to the tub.

"See? Told you it would work," Garrus gloated.

Shepard aimed a light kick at him again; he danced out of the way, but nearly tripped over the tub, saving himself only by doing a very peculiar-looking back-bend, with both feet on the floor and his hand resting next to the other side of the tub, suspending him over the plastic container. Shepard cackled.

"Ah, dear," Garrus managed, and strained, trying to lift himself back up; when that failed, he sighed. "Oh, laugh all you want," he said dryly, and had to crab-walk sideways until he could sit on the ground beside the tub.

Shepard was giggling. "Nicely done."

"Shut up," he muttered, though his grin gave away his humor. "Like you could've done any better."

"Challenge accepted," Shepard announced, and leaned over backwards. Although she wasn't exactly a gymnast, her balance and core strength were good, so she managed a backbend just fine; then, straining, she tried to stand back up.

"Not as easy as it looks," Garrus crowed, smirking; Shepard made a face at him, then frowned, bent her elbows, and gave an enormous push off from the floor.

She managed to stand, although she was leaning backwards at a perilous angle, and she had to backpedal wildly to not lose her balance until she crashed into another stack of crates against the wall.

Garrus was beside himself with laughter. "Not your best moment of grace," he wheezed, bent over, and wiped one eye.

"Like you did any better, crab-man," Shepard retorted, wincing and rubbing the back of her head. "Ow. Now, how do we get this thing out of the tub?"

"Beats me."

"Come on, now, gracious trap-master," Shepard said jovially. "I thought you'd have that figured out."

"I trapped it! You're the one that keeps it as a pet," Garrus reasoned.

Shepard tapped her chin, then shrugged. "We could just lift the tub up and grab it."

"And have it run off in the process?"

"We can't just leave it like this," Shepard told him. "Come on. I'll grab it."

Garrus rolled his eyes, but crouched down opposite her over the tub. "If this thing bites you - "

"I'll bite it back," Shepard said seriously.

Garrus stared.

"Really. That's what you do with Earth hamsters."

"Liar," Garrus scoffed.

"No I'm not!"

"EDI?" Garrus called; though there weren't many comm systems this far down the ship, EDI still frequently kept in network with everyone's omni-tools.

"Please do not bite the rodent," came the AI's dry voice. Garrus looked at Shepard smugly.

"You've just got to ruin all my fun," she accused, pointing at him; he blithely poked the tip of her finger and shrugged.

"You ready?"

Shepard shifted until she was in a steadier position, then nodded.

Quickly, Garrus whipped the tub up; Shepard darted forward and grabbed the hamster.

"I got him!" she cried, then yelled something incomprehensible and immediately dropped it.

"WHY'D YOU DROP IT?" Garrus thundered, scrambling after the tiny rodent.

"It bit me!"

"EXACTLY! You should have PREPARED for that!" Garrus shouted, then lunged forward and very carefully managed to press his foot onto the hamster.

Shepard screeched and dove forward, grabbing the hamster and throwing Garrus' foot away so quickly he almost fell over. "Don't hurt him!"

Garrus regained his balance and smirked, glancing over at Shepard and expecting a dry remark or some scathing comment - and was slightly surprised to see Shepard very carefully cradling the hamster to her chest.

"It's okay," she was saying at a whisper. "It's okay, buddy. We're gonna take good care of you."

Garrus paused, then slowly approached, his grin fading. "You, uh," he began. "You really care about that thing, don't you."

Shepard's glare was sharper than a scalpel, the former humor dissipating quickly. "Problem with that, Vakarian?"

"No, no, that's not what I mean, I just, um," Garrus said quickly, raising his hands. "I guess I just didn't expect it."

"For the record, I asked you to help me catch him, not step on him," Shepard added acerbically.

Garrus winced. "Ah."

"'Ah?'" Shepard echoed, bending down and flipping the tub right-side up, then setting it on the table.

"Um… right. Stepping on him. I don't think it hurt him." Garrus rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling very awkward. "I didn't think it would be a problem if I did it gently." Foolish, Vakarian, something told him.

"You had to put enough pressure to keep him from moving, though," Shepard said curtly, plopping the hamster in the tub.

Garrus winced again. "True. I… I guess…" He thought wildly - had it been reckless? Had he acted rashly? He thought it wouldn't be a problem, but clearly it was a problem for Shepard. Maybe he just didn't understand this whole humans-keeping-tiny-bitey-things-as-pets concept. Maybe it would be better to just acknowledge it being a problem for her. He understood that far better. "I'm sorry."

Shepard glanced up, the hard expression on her face easing up just a little. "Thanks," she finally said gruffly.

"Is… is he okay?" Garrus ventured.

Again, Shepard glanced at him, her expression still sour but slowly softening. "I think he is. Might do a scan later. Ask EDI about it, since we don't have a vet on board."

"Yeah…" Garrus mumbled, then inhaled and impulsively blurted out, "Why do you keep that thing if it bites you?"

He expected another cutting comment, but instead, Shepard turned around, leaning backwards on the table. "Because it's not his fault." Garrus' confusion must have been obvious, because Shepard snorted. "It's not his fault that he's that small and I'm this big. It's not his fault I don't have time to bond with him more. It's not his fault that everything is really, really scary to him all the time. Biting me is one of the only things he has control over."

Garrus stood there, arms loosely at his sides, as he thought this over. "When you put it like that," he mused, "I guess you have a point."

"I'm still going to take care of him either way, because he deserves to be taken care of," Shepard said firmly. "You can't just… leave something on its own for so long and expect it to be fine. People - and animals - aren't like that. We all need support systems."

Garrus turned his gaze back to her, but she was looking over her shoulder at the hamster, who had started to clean himself, moving his tiny paws over his ears. "You have a point. You seem to actually care about it - him - though. Outside of just doing a duty by taking care of it."

Shepard met his eyes now, and the gaze was sharp. "Like I said, we all need support systems," she said practically. "I've got to get this guy back to his cage, okay? I don't want him jumping over the edge of the tub here."

Garrus watched her pick up the tub and carry it to the stairs. "I'll, uh, clean up the jam," he offered, and she gave him a neutral nod, then disappeared up the stairwell.

Well. That was unexpected. Garrus crouched down and scraped up some of the jam with one finger. Shepard really seemed to have an attachment to that thing.

Support systems. What did she mean by that? Was the hamster part of her support? He knew humans tended to bond with odd things sometimes - did it give her some comfort?

But the hamster didn't need people to have its back, it just needed someone to give it food and water and a clean place to burrow and sleep. And as for Shepard, she had the entire Normandy. Every person on the ship would follow her to hell and back, he was positive.

You can't leave something on its own for so long and expect it to be fine.

Garrus felt like he understood that even less. Taken at face value, hamsters couldn't survive on their own, obviously - or, well, maybe they could, considering this one was still alive this far down the line. But his mind kept mulling Shepard's words over and over.

You can't leave something on its own. Garrus frowned, scraping more jam off the floor. That was true enough, but he wasn't sure if she was talking about herself, or actually just talking about the hamster. Shepard always had someone. She'd always have the Normandy. They would always be her crew.

Maybe it wasn't about them, though, Garrus realized. Shepard had other people - the Alliance, the Council, and... Cerberus? No, not Cerberus, they never had her back and she knew that perfectly clear.

But the Council. She had died, then the Council had given her political status as Spectre back, and left it at that. They dumped her in the Terminus Systems and abandoned her.

The Alliance did the same. They refused to help while she was forced to work with Cerberus, and then when she saved humanity from the Collectors, as thanks, she was incarcerated for months on end.

And now, both those groups had given her the grand responsibility of commanding during a galactic war, giving her old and new resources and giving her rank back, and they seemed - to Garrus' knowledge - to expect her to carry on as if nothing had happened. As if everything was fine.

Garrus shook himself slightly, remembering the jam on the floor, and finished scraping it up, then gathered up the rest.

He didn't understand the keeping-bitey-things-as-pets thing, and he probably wouldn't be able to pretend to, but he could see this was important to Shepard. Whether his musing was right and she cared about the furball because of some philosophical thing, or whether this was yet another incomprehensible human thing, he wasn't sure.

But it was important to Shepard, and idly, he began to muse about finding - what did hamsters like to eat? Green things? Fruit? Ah well, the galley wouldn't have fresh fruit but he might be able to find some leafy green thing on their next stop. All that mattered was that it was important to her. He knew was that Shepard would always need him to have her back, and he would.

Author's notes: Language note, uzmuaple is the New Krestnock word for tank, formed from uzmu and aple, meaning life-container. Yehveh is more accurate, meaning bio-tank, but that's a borrowed word from Covus, the salarian language I've been working on - a lot of scientific terminology in New Krestnock is borrowed from Covus. Krestnock is a really precise language, actually, and they do not like ambiguity, so even if they have a word in Krestnock, it may be too vague or not widely enough used, so they grudgingly swap it out for Covus.