37 Days ASR
Garrus stared at the young woman, eye narrowed, his gut twisting into empathetic knots as he studied her, looking for signs of deception or mental disorder. His visor told him nothing useful. Heart rate, respiration, body temp all elevated, which the circumstances warranted anyway. As useful as it would be, his visor didn't include a mind reading app.
"I'm not just going to let you kill Shepard," he said at last, voice heavy and rumbling with subvocals of both warning and a wry sort of pissed off amusement. The kid was a piece of work, but considering her genes and upbringing, that didn't surprise him all that much. He doubted that dragged through the pits of buratrum even began to cover the last fifteen cycles of Bunny's life.
She nodded. "Of course you won't." She picked through the smashed remains of furniture and strewn chunks of plaster and wood. Dead Collectors stuck out of the rest, so thick that Garrus couldn't help but grin, fierce and proud. His people had picked up and fought on brilliantly.
Bunny sniffed then spat a thick gob of dusty, smoky snot into the rubble. "You'll tell yourself the same optimistic lies that my sister and mother will. Qua'tien can be rehabilitated. It will take time and patience, but we'll get our Bunny back. Then you'll let me out of my cell, and we'll be one great, big happy family." She glanced back over her shoulder, giving her braid a cocky flip. "That's when I'll kill her."
The eels renewed their attack on his guts, dread slithering through all the tender, sympathetic bits. He believed her. Growing up, brainwashed by that bastard, trusted and tortured, twisted a million different ways … Qua'tien would never truly disappear. They'd never be able to trust her.
Of course, Shepard would. It would take time, but eventually Shepard would believe her sister had been reclaimed, and she'd let her guard down. His gut wrenched into a knot, sending a surge of bitter acid up his throat. He choked it down.
No.
He'd just gotten Shepard back, he wouldn't let her empathy … her kind heart … snatch her away again. Pushing up behind Bunny a little, gun lifting a hand's width higher, he said, "I could just put you down here and now, save everyone the worry. I can just tell them that tragically, Bunny died in the attack."
She laughed, bright and eerily merry. He shuddered, the sound more disturbing than her threat or even the fact that she'd killed the man she called her father. Popping her shoulders in a far too familiar shrug, she said, "Yeah, you could put a bullet through my brain, lie about having found me, but you won't." Sparks arced around her as she hopped over a fallen light fixture. "You're good people. Good people are so easy." She stopped at a shut door. "You'll always be susceptible to those of us who have no rules."
She turned her back to the door, and met his eyes with a stare so dead and frozen that he couldn't tell if she'd told the truth. Damn, she was good. Not many people could keep him guessing, but Bunny Shepard was leading his powers of perception on what Martin called a 'feral goose chase'. A careless shrug ripped across the narrow shoulders. "If you do really love that bitch, do it. The only way to stop an assassin willing to trade their life for the target is to take them out first." Holding her arms out, she sighed. "So do it. It's the only way to save your girlfriend."
He shook his head, lining his heart and guts with steel to fortify himself against her taunts. She knew he was no murderer, and suddenly he wished that Nihlus stood in his place. If the Spectre thought Bunny posed even the smallest threat to Shepard, he'd put a single shot of lead through her brow. The Spectre would hate himself for it, but he'd do it anyway.
Garrus cracked his neck and cleared his throat, hating the picture that formed in his mind … that young, pretty face ... a tiny entrance wound dead center in her brow, a single trickle of blood marring the pale, freckled skin. He jerked his chin toward the door. "Is that Krellid's office?" he asked, turning the conversation back to getting everyone the hell out of there. When she nodded, he stabbed his pistol toward it. "Open it."
"It's not going to do you any good," she said, turning and keying in a code to open it. "He's dead, and dead men tell no tales."
Garrus stared at her, almost expecting the word, "copper" to come out of her mouth in Shepard's hard-boiled detective voice. His brow plates started creeping down toward his nose, but then he caught himself and schooled his expression, keeping it a flat and reflective … a still pond. The moment his talons stepped into the mansion, he'd known something was off. Somehow, he always knew. He might walk into a trap, but he always knew it was a trap … only the slaver's lair hadn't just felt like a trap. Too much out of place, none of the right vibes … the lack of slaves near the firefights … not a single sapient shield had been thrown at them. And then he awoke, almost killed fighting a Collector monster he couldn't remember, but his people and the slaves had all been evaced?
No, nothing added up, yet. He nodded for Bunny to open the door and go in ahead of him.
Crossing the threshold, he kept himself in partial cover as he cleared the room. Five batarians, two humans, and a turian lay sprawled over various chairs. He nodded to Bunny to stay where he could see her and sidestepped over to the bodies. Tracing their order of death by the neatness and number of wounds, he saw that they'd been picked off in order from left to right. No doubt they'd been sitting in their chairs, listening to the battle going on outside their little fortress. He checked the walls to confirm his theory, and chuffed. No damage to the walls other than single shots fired inside the room.
A panic room.
So they sat in their impenetrable little fortress and waited. Then someone had opened fire. He examined the wounds. Pistol shots. He nodded Bunny over. "Show me your weapons."
"No." She jerked away from him, placing the desk between them, her shotgun held low, below the edge. Even so, he could see she didn't have a pistol on her.
Garrus circled the desk to look at the corpse slumped over a computer spattered with blood and brains. The corpse was definitely batarian. Grabbing the dead man's shoulder, he pulled Krellid up off the desk, leaning him back in the deep chair. Face blown off, but not by a shotgun. Pistol again, back of the head … five shots.
Spinning to face Bunny, he said, "Is this Krellid?"
She snorted, then spat. "Of course it is." Nodding toward the others, she continued, "That's the inner circle … all his most trusted lieutenants. Pure bastards, the lot of them." Another gob of spit followed the first as she edged toward a wide bookshelf on the right hand side of the room. "All right, you've seen the dead slaver. Now, lets get out of here before the entire house comes down on our heads."
"Where's the gun?" He looked over the desk and the floor around it, then in the chair. No gun.
"What do you mean where's the gun? It's right … ." She slapped her hip. "It's gone." She spun one way then the other, as if she must have dropped it.
She was lying. Not about the gun, the surprise on her face when she found it missing was genuine, but Beatrix Shepard was lying up a storm about something else. "Who killed Krellid?" he asked, watching her as she glanced his way before resuming her search.
"I told you, I did." She made a disgusted sound in her throat. "He was a bastard, and you're worried about the fact he's dead?"
"No, I'm worried about why you're lying to me about being the one who did it." Garrus gave the chair and the dead slaver a shove, rolling it away from the desk, then bent over, activating the computer. No doubt a man like Krellid made sure that his panic room had generator backup for all his toys. Sure enough, the computer woke, bringing up an interface for the security systems. So, Krellid hadn't been casually sitting back, waiting for his Collector partners to clean up his problems. He'd been afraid, checking his … .
A thoughtful scowl pulled Garrus's browplates low. No, he hadn't been checking his security. Garrus scrolled through the open windows. Krellid had been searching for a hole in his security. He stopped on a screen that showed a maze of tunnels below the house, at least thirty or so metres deeper than the basement. A series of blinking tick marks showed where someone had tripped silent security alarms.
Bunny raised an eyebrow. "You're calling me a liar? That's rich."
Garrus straightened and pointed to each of the dead men. "Pistol shot. Pistol shot. Two pistol shots." He stabbed his thumb toward Krellid. "Five pistol shots." Brow plates lifting toward his crest, he shrugged. "How did you manage that without a pistol?"
She scoffed. "I lost it after I killed them. Seriously? If you're going to try to pull a Sherlock Holmes, think of the obvious." Her stare travelled back to the bookcase, then jerked away returning to indifferent scorn.
"C-Sec senior investigator, kid. When I asked about your pistol, you went into your memory, trying to track where you lost it. You put it on this morning and hadn't touched it since." He leaned on one hip and crossed his arms. "Then, you got a look on your face that was both realization and fear. You know who took it and did this, and now you're afraid for them." He cocked his head. "How did I do?"
She just let out a derisive cough and continued staring the other way.
"Yeah, that's what I thought." He returned to the computer, searching for a way to restore comms. He found it amongst the controls for the security grid. Raising a hand to his radio, he called, "This is Vakarian, anyone reading me?"
"Boss!" Martin's voice exploded through Garrus's head like a missile. "We've been searching for nearly an hour. Where are you?"
"In Krellid's panic room with Beatrix Shepard." He returned to the desk, searching through the datapads and papers on its surface, looking for anything that would help him find Lucille. He found a great deal of evidence of Krellid's dealings with the Collectors, but nothing indicating the location of the shed. "We're making our way down the back way to avoid the second floor collapse."
"Huh?" Martin paused. "The second floor is fine, boss. Those exploding husks burned things up a little, but the fire system took care of it. The big beetle thing carved up the walls, but all our scans say it should hold together." He coughed. "How are you? Where are you? Do you need backup? And did you say Beatrix? You mean you found Bunny?"
"I did." Garrus looked over at the girl, noting the sudden stiffness in her posture, the way she had turned her back to him. "I'll let you know on the backup. What's the sitrep? How long have I been missing?"
"Just over ninety minutes. We kicked the Collectors in the ass, grabbed the slaves and ran, but … ." Martin stopped, the pause going on long enough that Garrus wondered if the comms had been taken down again.
"What is it, kid? I haven't got a week to stand here while you build suspense." Garrus shoved everything he found into his belt pouches. Sorting through the treasures could wait until everyone was aboard ship and on their way home.
"It's like the slaves had been moved out of harm's way. We expected them to be used as shields, but both groups had been locked into rooms with reinforced walls. If I didn't know better, I'd say that someone had been trying to protect them."
"Yeah, roger that, Weaver," Garrus replied, his gaze returning to Bunny. "It's not the only strange thing going on here. Have you heard from the other teams?" He held his breath, waiting, although he felt fairly certain that if disaster had befallen the others, Martin wouldn't have buried the lead.
"They all report moderate losses and heavy casualties, mostly during the initial ambush, but mission success across the board. Ironically, Nyreen's team came through without a loss." The kid scoffed. "Because they were behind schedule, she got our warning about the ambush in time to prepare."
"Anything about Adrien?" he asked, dread beginning to erect walls just in case.
"He was badly wounded while covering his team's retreat: took a couple of blasts from an arm cannon on a giant husk. He's back aboard his ship and being treated. Last I heard, their doc expects him to pull through. Apparently he went into surgery shouting at them to save the data from his armour so they could develop shields to block that weapon."
Garrus chuckled, that information doing more to ease his concerns for his friend than anything else. Leaving the desk, he made his way over to the bookcase, eyes on the floor. "Okay. My informant here says that Lucille was being held somewhere called the shed. Does that sound familiar?"
Martin hummed. "No, but … ." The channel blipped. "Anderson? Do any of the slaves know where the shed is? Garrus says Lucille was being held there."
"He's alive?" The captain's deep, gruff voice came through heavy with both relief and aggravation. "Glad someone let me know. Hold on, I'll ask about the shed." Garrus heard him talking in the background. Less than a minute later, he came back. "It's called the shed, but it's a dungeon under the house in a sublevel."
"Thanks, Anderson. Did you get that, General?" Martin asked.
Garrus knew just the tunnels they meant. "Thank you, Anderson … Martin. I'll stay in contact." Finding what he suspected in front of the bookcase, he turned back to face Bunny. "Vakarian, out."
"Good news," he said, "the second floor is perfectly intact, we can leave that way to find the shed and your mother." He strode to the door, but didn't even make it to the threshold before a hand snagged his vambrace.
"I told you, there's no point in going to the shed. Even if she was still alive, we can't get in." She stabbed her chin back the way they'd entered. "And we can't go that way. We'd have to pick our way back through all that crap and the foam slime. It'll take us an hour to get downstairs." A sharp, mocking laugh sliced through her words. "You'd end up slipping, hitting your head, and barfing all over me."
Tilting a nod toward the bookcase, she continued, "This is the fastest route." She headed that way, her manner completely at ease. "I know this house inside out. The back elevator is the quickest way down. Five minutes and we can be on our way." Pushing books aside, she revealed a keypad. When she entered the code, the section of books slid aside.
"All right." He followed, pointing down at the dust smudges on the floor. "Looks like someone has been through her recently. A few steps into the hidden corridor, Garrus lunged forward and grabbed the young Shepard's arm, dragging her over to him and lifting her onto her tiptoes. As he stared into her eyes, he steeled himself against the sorrow, rage and disgust waging war in his guts and let loose his rapidly vanishing patience.
She just hung there, staring back at him as cool and calm as he could ask, as if they were having amarceru and biscuits on the chaise in the sitting room.
"Okay, kid, I've put up with enough tarc from you. How much of what you've told me has been complete stulti?"
What had been done to Bunny was no less monstrous than what had been done to Kahri or their mother, that certainty held his frustration in check. Layering as much threat and no-nonsense cop tone into his voice as he could—the old suit fit surprisingly well—he said, "Take me to the shed. I'll find a way in."
When Qua'tien Krellid stared back, not even bothering to shrug, he let out an impatient hiss. As much as he understood that the child had been brainwashed and tortured into the person before him, Lucille's disappearance didn't allow for patience. Spirits, what had he caused with his carelessness? He closed his eyes for a half second, taking a deep breath to calm the storm battering at the inside of his keel.
Leaning down, he set his jaw, his expression steel and granite as he met the young woman's eyes at a level. "She's your mother, Beatrix. She's been held captive here every bit as long as you have, only she was forced to bear seven children and turn them over to the bastard who killed your father and very nearly killed your sister."
Layering in subvocals so thick and menacing that he saw the hair on her neck stand on end, he said, "I'm not leaving here without her, and as good a person as you think I might be, I'm also dangerous. Particularly to people blocking me from completing my mission, and today my mission is bringing back my girlfriend's mother."
Bunny spat in his face. "I'm not letting that traitorous bitch anywhere near Lucille."
Garrus wiped his mandible. "Charming, but now that I know your mother isn't lying dead in some shed—"
A gunshot echoed up through the house, then another. Garrus reached up to find out who was shooting, but then Bunny wrenched her arm loose and bolted. "Dammit, Bunny!" Opening the channel, he took off after her, racing through the dimly lit corridors. "Weaver, that shot come from any of our people?"
"No, sir. I didn't even hear a shot. We're all either on the Normandy or in the breeding compound."
"Roger that, situation rapidly heading for FUBAR. Vakarian, out." He paused at the top of a long series of staircases, looking down the center of them, his stomach wondering how long it would take vomit to hit the bottom. He swallowed it and turned on the flashlight attached to his pistol then started down, leaping down as quickly as he could manage given his equilibrium. Bunny managed the descent with much greater speed, so when he hit the end of twelve staircases, she had disappeared from sight.
Luckily, the corridor offered only two options, and one direction showed no disruption to the dust layer. Running, one hand trailing along the wall to keep his balance in the near dark, he followed the dust trail. Sloppy, if Bunny had been hiding someone down there. She should have laid false trails. He supposed it didn't pay to train your captive daughter/captain of your guard to be too cagey.
A scream of pure rage and agony echoed toward him. Bunny! Throwing caution and sense to the wind, he pushed off the wall and raced down the tunnel. He found her outside a small, cell-like room, pacing like a maniac.
"What is it?" Leaning against the wall and a knee, he panted, sucking in long draughts of air. "What happened?"
The girl threw herself at him, but stopped short of beating him with the fist she raised over her head. "You happened." Bunny let out a shrill screech of fury and spun to slam her fist into the wall. "Your stupid rescue mission screwed up the perfect escape plan, you moron! Now … ." She paced the width of the tiny, dark room. "Now, he's got her!" Letting out another ferocious scream, she kicked a small stool, smashing it against the far wall.
Garrus let out his first full breath since he'd woken up suffocating on the floor. "Okay, give me the story, kid." Without waiting for her to start, he checked the room over for clues. Thick dust clung to the corners, brushed away from the center of the room by constant movement. Someone had done a lot of pacing in the tiny cell.
"When Lucille got back from the Citadel, Krellid hung her in the damned courtyard, pulled out all the slaves, lined them up to watch her whipped bloody for betraying him." Bunny paced a couple of steps one way then the other and slammed her fist against the wall. "Of course, he set her up to betray him. That was the whole point: lure you here. He knew who you were … knew she wouldn't resist an opportunity to bring him down."
A tiny corner of bright colour peeking out from under the pallet of blankets on the floor caught Garrus's attention. He glanced over at Bunny, then walked over and crouched, pulling the blankets aside. Mandibles fluttering in a sad sort of smile, he picked up the book on human painters. "Beautiful History: The 200 Most Influential Human Painters," he read out loud. Still crouched, he twisted to look up at Bunny. "Let me guess … you broke your mother out of the shed and hid her in here?" Brow plates raised, he stood and leaned toward her. "Did you tell him she was dead?"
"She just about was." Bunny's gaze slid over the book on its way to study the floor. "He just left her there. The bastard never intended to get her out … after everything … all the fucking money she made him over the years. Her back was covered in maggots … what could I do?" She spat without even a hiccough in her pacing. "I took her to the Mother House, and they started her healing. Then I brought her here, where I could take care of her."
"Guess he wasn't quite right about family, was he?" Garrus reached for her shoulder, but she ducked out from under her hand. He nodded. "Okay, let's find her." Turning toward the door, he studied the floor as he left the cell and entered the tunnel. Tracks cut through the thick layer of dust. He crouched again, trying to sort the different layers and movement patterns. "How much of the scuffling through the dust out here is from you and Lucille?"
The kid stepped around him and crouched down. She pointed to a boot print with a distinct heel. "That's me. The drag marks though … there." Standing, she took off. "He's got her. The bare feet, the sideways marks … that's her."
Garrus saw it and bolted after her. Definitely someone being pulled along in a tight grip. "Who's the dead man upstairs?"
"Marl, Krellid's right hand. Lucille should have just waited for me." Bunny cursed and stopped in the center of a junction between two tunnels. "She was supposed to wait. I was going to take out the lieutenants and Krellid in the panic room, then come and smuggle her out while you kept the Collectors off our backs." After a second, she bolted down the tunnel to the left. "He's taking her toward the hangar!"
Garrus didn't need her to tell him that they needed to catch up to the slaver before he reached his means of escape. Needing all their air for the run, they simply raced side by side, stopping to check the trail at intersections. As fit as he'd been before getting blasted upstairs, Garrus felt all the weak spots in his patched together body by the time they came to an open door that led out into the storm.
Bunny didn't even slow, apparently forgetting that the shot they'd heard meant that Krellid was armed. Garrus, however, had been bent, broken, and spindled more than enough for one day and slowed down, moving forward with at least partial cover as much as possible. One hand protecting his eyes from the blinding downpour, splashing through water sometimes as deep as his mid-calf, Garrus picked his way forward.
They found Krellid wrestling with Lucille about halfway across a wide, landscaped lawn that looked more like a lake … two pale ghosts amidst the miniature whitecaps pushed along by the gale. A shot whined past Garrus's head, close enough to hear over the wind and thunder, and sent him dodging toward cover behind a large palm tree.
"Krellid!" Bunny shouted. Garrus gut tied itself into a nice, tight double knot when she raised her shotgun. "Let her go. I did what you said." The kid was going to get herself killed.
"Spirits, Kahri, the things I do since I met you." Muttering under his breath, Garrus stepped out of cover, moving toward Bunny. He needed to be close enough to get her down and behind him if bullets started flying. No way was he going back to Omega to tell Shepard that he'd gotten her mother and sister killed. Krellid stopped, slipping in the deep water and grass as Lucille jerked him back and forth, the woman's whole body writhing as she fought to get free.
"What a grand day for you, General," the slaver said, his voice disappearing into the thunder. "Vengeance for the woman you love … Archangel saves thousands of slaves and returns them to their families … a victory over the Collectors."
"Bunny, back away from him," Garrus called, letting Krellid's taunts slide right off. "Don't let him goad you. He wants you to do something to get yourself and your mother killed." Holding his breath, he inched forward, one arm holding his pistol on Krellid, the other reaching out to snag the teenager's armour.
Bunny lunged forward. "Krellid, you bastard, I got him here!" She got three steps before the gun turned on her, and she slid to a stop, arms pinwheeling to keep her balance. "Let her go!"
Garrus stepped up beside her, glancing back and forth between the slaver, Lucille, and Bunny. "So this was a set up? Trade one dead general for your mother?" Taking the chance that between his struggling prisoner, the storm, and the combination of adrenaline and fear, Krellid's hands would be shaking too hard to wing him let alone get a head shot, Garrus turned to face Bunny. "It never occurred to you that I'd be willing to make that trade without being lied to? All you had to do was tell me the truth, and I could have helped."
The kid cursed, shooting him with a fifty calibre glare. "Doesn't matter now, does it?" She took another step toward Krellid, her hands held out. "You're a lying bastard. You were never going to let her go, were you?"
The slaver wrenched at Lucille's neck as the woman stomped on his foot and twisted, almost breaking free. He slammed the pistol into her cheek, and she slumped, hanging from his arm.
"Mom!" Bunny leaped forward, as Krellid staggered a little at the sudden weight.
Recovering, the bastard swung the pistol back to Bunny. "And reward your betrayal, Qua'tien?" Garrus saw the slaver's vicious laughter slice Bunny to the bone. "Did you think I wouldn't know who took your mother out of the shed, little girl?" Krellid bared his teeth. "Oh yes, my beloved, doting daughter, I've always known about all your hideouts and your little secrets." The mocking smile melted from his face, sliding off with the rain. "After all I've done for you … after all the trust … this is how you repay me?" He jabbed the pistol into Lucille's temple.
"You tortured me, beating me unconscious when I didn't learn fast enough or show enough respect!" Bunny lunged forward, then danced sideways a step. "Then you'd beat me and lock me in the dark for a week with nothing but my piss to drink and my filth to lie in, you son of a bitch! How is that care or trust? You used my mother as a weapon against me for fifteen years."
Seeing that she was trying to distract the slaver, draw him around so Krellid's back was to him, Garrus remained as still and unassuming as possible.
Krellid yanked Lucille's limp body around, keeping her between him and Garrus. "Oh no, you don't." The pistol lunged toward each of them. "Stay where you are, or I start shooting."
"You can't shoot Lucille," Garrus said, fighting the steady, pounding drumbeat of the rain. "You need her to get out of here."
"I'm a dead man!" Krellid screamed back, his voice manic, hysterical laughter bubbling through. "We both know that, General. But if I'm going to die, I'm going to take these two bitches with me. I'll die as Tir'Lak Remit, with Shepard blood pouring over my hands."
The batarian staggered, his stare going dead, his features slack. Done stalling his own death, Krellid swung the pistol toward Bunny. Garrus sprinted toward the teenager, throwing himself between her and the gun, but Lucille moved faster. Krellid let out a strangled squawk as his limp victim sprang to sudden and vicious life.
Spinning in his arms, Lucy slammed her knee into his groin. So quick that Garrus didn't have time to react even if he'd had the inclination, the woman punched the slaver in the ribs five or six times. Krellid dropped to his knees, his face suddenly slack, black eyes sightless. Lucille threw a long, bloody piece of broken glass in his face even as he slumped into the mud.
"That's for my girls, and for Franklin, you bastard," she screamed then spat on him. She turned to face them, her face a dull mask of shock. Garrus spun mid-stride, lunging to catch her, but before he got there, her legs gave out. She sank to her knees, splashing as she hit the grass, harsh, screaming sobs tearing from her mouth. Her fists clutched at her shift, working their way up the filthy material as they migrated to her mouth, pressing against her open, gasping lips.
"Mom!" Bunny raced across the churned up lawn, hydroplaning the last eight metres on her armoured knees. "Are you okay? He didn't hurt you, did he?" The teenager's frantic hands searched her mother for wounds, then wrapped around Lucille's neck, holding her tight. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. The general knew. He figured it out."
Garrus crouched a couple of metres away, giving them their space. They'd been through quite enough that day without him adding any more stress. "Are you all right?" Relief washed through him, leaving him warmer, but shaking and suddenly very, very tired. He reached out, gently examining the bruised lump on Lucille's cheek. It didn't look as though Krellid had managed a solid enough blow to break the bone.
Lucy nodded, then buried her face in the tangled, soaking tendrils of her daughter's hair. "I'm fine, General." A pallid smile drifted across her face. "In fact, I don't think I've been better in a very, very long time." She kissed Bunny's cheek. "Come on, let's get out of this storm. I want to get dry and warm." She kissed her daughter again, then let out a deep, throaty moan of longing. "And I'd give just about anything for a cup of sweet, milky tea."
Garrus stood and wrapped an arm around her, lifting her from the water. "I think we can take care of that for you." He held out an arm toward the door. "We'll head straight through to the Normandy, and Dr. Chakwas can look at that cheek while you drink your tea." Once Lucille seemed stable on her feet, he offered a hand to Bunny, raising a brow plate in a mild challenge.
"Fine." The kid took it and pulled herself up. "You do-gooders … you're all the same. Massive pains in the ass."
"Yeah, well, you'd only know because you're an even bigger pain in the ass." He jutted his chin toward the mansion. "Come on, kid, let's get out of this storm. I feel like crap."
"Yeah, well, just don't puke on me. Damned turians." She swaggered away a few steps and then turned back. Something in her expression curdled in his gut, and for a second throwing up became a real possibility once more. Pure hatred flickered behind the young-old eyes that had seen far too much. "And don't think all this …" She circled her index finger to indicate the three of them. "... means I lied about killing my ex-sister. That bitch fed us to the fucking lions." Before he could say anything, she turned back and marched ahead, calling back over her shoulder. "She'll get hers, I promise."
Garrus sighed and offered Lucille a supportive arm that she leaned into gratefully, walking slowly but with a strength in keeping with the mother of the two most stubborn human females in existence, and the slave who'd freed herself using a broken chunk of glass.
"She doesn't remember." Garrus looked down as the woman spoke. "She was so young, so scared and brutalized that she locked all those memories away. And, of course, Krellid brainwashed her." Lucille pitched her voice to stay between them. "He told her that Janey had sold us for her freedom, and that the only way to ensure my life was to be a good slave and earn freedom for us both." Eyes dark with sorrow and suffering looked up into his, and for a moment, she leaned even heavier on his arm. "She'll come around once we get her away from here, and she has time to learn what really happened to her sister."
Garrus nodded. "Did she tell you that Jane is alive?" He winced a little, hoping that Bunny had mentioned it when he just threw it out there like that. Sometimes he made krogan look like the masters of tact.
Lucille nodded, but stared up at him with a shocky sort of blank expression. "It seems a miracle." Her brow furrowed. "She truly died?"
Garrus nodded. "In my arms." He smiled and gave her arm a gentle squeeze. "And it is a miracle. She's struggling, trying to find her feet, but it's Jane."
She clung to his arm. "I look forward to getting to know her again." They walked several strides in silence before she asked, "Is she still impossible?"
Garrus chuckled. "Completely." Just before they reached the door into the house, he stopped. "I'm going to have to keep Bunny under guard until we find a way to bring her around. I can't risk Shepard. I hope you understand."
Lucille turned a little to face him, her free hand gripping his. "I understand, General. Janey is very lucky to have someone who cares so much and watches over her so well. I trust you to do your best for my youngest." She patted his hand then turned to the door, shivering a little. "Come, let's escape this wretched place."
"Yes, ma'am." Garrus palmed the door control, then stepped back to allow her to enter first. Relief, and gratitude, and amazement, and joy … absolute joy resonated a four part harmony through him as he followed the two women into the house and through.
"Oh no." Lucille stopped at the door to the front sitting room. When Garrus peered over her shoulder, he saw that part of the ceiling had collapsed. The woman's hands gave a helpless, distressed flutter. "Some of the articles in this room were quite literally priceless."
Garrus cleared his throat to thwart a laugh. Shepard women really were damned near indestructible.
Lucille spun to face him. "Please tell me that we're going to salvage all this art … the books. We can't just abandon them, or leave them to be pillaged by other criminals." She drew herself up tall and straight, all nettles and thorns. "Once I take a shower and get in some clean, warm clothes, I can bring your people in here … show them what to save. There are crates … ."
Garrus just watched her go, both admiring her spirit and fearing her reaction to what he'd do with most of her treasures. When she ground to a halt, he nodded. "On two conditions. First, whatever doesn't need to be sent to a museum, is sold to help fund Archangel and Sanctuary." He pulled his mandibles in tight, clenching them against the grin that wanted to answer her comically suspicious glare.
"And the second?" Her words came out slow and loaded.
"That you scan the rooms structurally before going in, listen to my people if they tell you to get out if it becomes unsafe, and that it's all wrapped up in the next twenty four hours."
"That sounded like three conditions, but I agree to all of them." She turned and marched with vigor toward the door.
Garrus turned to Bunny who was sorting through the rubble looking for something. "Are you going to help her?"
The kid shrugged but didn't stop. "Don't I need to go directly to a cell and start the head shrinking?"
The bastard child of a sigh and a grumble rolled from his throat. "I trust you to not hurt any of my people. Will you disappoint me?"
She set her back to a huge chunk of plaster. "Help me out, here?" When he didn't move, waiting for her to answer his question, she shrugged. "Okay, yes, I'm not going to hurt your lackeys. Why would I? They've never done anything to me." Jerking her head toward the piece of ceiling, she said, "Well, lend a hand!"
Garrus strode over and wedged a shoulder under the rubble, helping her lift it and push it aside. He watched her search for a few minutes, not sure if he should say anything or not. The kid probably wouldn't hear him, but maybe that didn't matter. Maybe she needed him to say his piece anyway. Or, maybe he just needed to say it.
"Look, kid, I know you're going to just chalk what I have to say up to a bunch of stulti, but I'm going to say it, anyway. I'm also just going to say it once." He took a deep breath. "I love your sister. I have for a couple of years now, so I know her about as well as anyone can. I've seen her scars … the whip marks that covered her from her neck all the way down over the soles of her feet, back and front … the bite marks from where they set their varren on her and where Remit and one of the other slavers took their revenge for when she bit them trying to get you to safety."
He backed up a couple of steps as she pushed in on him, continuing her search without showing any sign of listening to him. He pressed on anyway. "I've held her when she woke screaming from nightmares. I've been unable to make love to her, because every touch awakens the ghosts of them raping her for twenty seven hours straight." He swallowed hard and took a couple of long, slow breaths to wrestle his emotions in line. "Your sister was left staked to the ground when the slavers pulled out. They thought she was dead. So did the Alliance medic who found her. So while your sister has spent the last fifteen cycles out in the galaxy, believe me … she's been anything but free."
"Ah ha! There you are." Bunny dove into the rubble, cackling a little as she dug. Straightening, she held up an old, battered tin mug. She kissed it and clipped it to her belt, grinning up at him in victory. "I was sitting in that chair, drinking my coffee and watching the news when you lot flew in. Thought I might have lost the old girl. Morning cup just wouldn't be the same without her."
Garrus nodded and turned toward the door out, his gaze landing on Lucille, standing just the other side of the threshold. She held his stare for a moment, slow tears rolling through the dampness left by the rain, but then, after a couple of breaths, she nodded and turned, drifting toward the front door.
"Yeah." Garrus sighed and followed. His welcome home gift would prove to be even greater than he'd planned, but far more complicated than he'd hoped. Still, he'd come in to bring down the bastard who'd hurt his … his mate and find her mother. Mission accomplished, even if his victory festered in his gut, a grenade buried in a stone. The day had birthed so many more questions than it laid to rest.
First and foremost amongst those … the Collectors and their arsenal of monsters. Where did they come from? How many of them were there? And how were they going to defeat them?
(A-N: Okay, so I lied. Turns out Garrus and Bunny wanted to be first. I might not be posting twice a week for a while. I think everyone can understand how posting nearly 20K words a week can wear, but most importantly, it doesn't give me mulling time. We're getting deep into the struggle now, so I need to give the characters time to give me their full awesomeness. I need time to plot ahead. I loved this chapter. Writing it made me just insanely happy, and I'd like that to be the experience for as many chapters as possible. :D Thanks for reading. So much, and thanks for being awesome. Hugs!)