Hey guys, I have a few announcements before the chapter. First of all, this is the longest chapter ever at over 5000 words! I don't know how that even happened...
Second of all, I'm shocked by the number of reviews I received on the last chapter. I was so overwhelmed and flattered and ugh I can't even. There aren't any words for how much gratitude I have for all of you guys and it's good to know that I can count on you. This story is totally going to be continued until the end, I promise!
On an unrelated note, I've started decapitalizing the name of the species. It's a bad habit that I got into early and it's just kind of awkward because I didn't know where to stop it. I won't be going in and individually replacing each chapter because makes it very difficult due to formatting. However, it will be changed in the original document for my own sanity.
And, as the final announcement, I'm going to be on a hiatus for just a few days because I will be on vacation to see family. I may or may not have writing time during these few days. However, I'm not entirely sure of my schedule so I can't make promises. I hope this long chapter makes up for it! Also, I'm going to probably be attaching photos of Liz Shepard on this chapter on AO3, so check that out on there.
OH. ALSO. I PLAYED THE CITADEL DLC. IT WAS BEAUTIFUL. AND GARRUS. OH LAWD. That explains the reference in the final part of the chapter. Enjoy. :D
xoxo
THR
ps: I'm sorry if there are any errors. It's hard to check a long document with time constraints. I'm leaving at 6 am tomorrow and I need sleep which means I'm crunched for time.
Chapter 43
Your name was Garrus Vakarian and something inside was telling you that this mission wasn't going to be alright.
It was your own fault for not acting on your instinct initially. Ignoring your gut was a challenge for you to begin with, but Shepard's constant reassurance had been enough for you to continue into the contentious prison. You should have been aware of the dangers when you saw Shepard succumb to her nausea. Kaidan's apprehension was yet another cue that you disregarded.
Shepard had even had her doubts about the assignment from the beginning and you somehow managed to shake it all off. Now the regret was starting to sink in as you snuck behind your partner in an attempt to emulate an undercover agent. Turian bodies were bulky and impractical for tasks that required sneaking around. In recent years, you had learned that your own frame was very capable of bending in ways that seemed impossible. You had also begun to appreciate your species' stamina and ability to move at a fast rate. One would imagine that this made your people suitable for activities involving reconnaissance. Anyone who dared to think that way was either crazy or not familiar with your biology.
Shepard had elected to send Kaidan off into the depths of the prison by himself when you reached a fork in the winding hallways. After tangling with varren and barely making it inside to begin with, travelling as a group carried risks that the Commander wasn't willing to take. Communication was limited with the other biotic; there weren't a significant amount of signals for omni-tools to latch onto and use. This disability forced her to form a pact within the squad: speak only when necessary and don't access any unsecure channels with any sort of tech devices. Despite her distaste for Alenko, you could tell that it pained her to let him go by himself. If he didn't come out alive, he would be MIA on her watch. This woman didn't need another weight hefted onto her cracking shoulders.
You turned to her, her breath now raw and audible. You hadn't been given a proper chance to ask about any of her afflictions, be it her physical or mental ones. Considering that you were perched underneath the window of an occupied room, it didn't appear to be the right time to fill the role of the considerate boyfriend. Behaving in such a manner on duty was frowned upon, anyway. If there was one thing that you had gathered from your mandatory military experience, it was that messing around while on the job would get you reported no matter how alone you thought you were. Turian procedures had given you an edge of paranoia when it came to that particular subject and you instead put a hand on Shepard's shoulder as a light symbol of support.
She gave you a sharp look and took the contact the wrong way. Without saying a word, she asked you if anything was wrong with nothing more than a facial expression.
"Heard they're keeping that human doctor under wraps until she gives us some answers."
"If you ask me, the bitch isn't worth it. All that screaming is hurting my ears. If that team of hers didn't want to try and slam an asteroid into the mass relay then I'd say that we should kill her on the spot."
You paid careful attention to the batarian guards' banter and held your hand up to Shepard to indicate that your touch meant nothing at the moment. She nodded in reply and used her omni-tool to scan for heat signatures on the other side of the wall. Raising her head would likely end with the both of you being spotted through the window.
With careful precision, she observed the obstacles around you. To your right were laser sensors that had the potential to set off every alarm in the facility and burn off a few limbs in the process. They blocked the logical route to the prisoner that you sought. If there was a place to shut them down, it would be in the room occupied by the guards right in front of you.
"Take care of them however you want." she hissed. "Just make sure I can get in there and shut down the damn security system."
The instructions had been far simpler than you had expected. No elaborate plan followed her order. Shepard eyed you and didn't reveal anything about her thoughts to you. Although it would jeopardize the mission in theory, you didn't mind the lack of words. You were too far into your professional relationship for that to be crucial. Regardless of your romantic standing, you preferred to surprise her with your methods when it came to combat instead of taking her directions to a t. The both of you weren't in the presence of another Alliance officer, meaning that taking the time to throw in a few ad-libbed tactics didn't matter one bit.
You pulled your sniper rifle from its mounted position on your back and decided that it was your turn to issue orders.
"Throw them so I can get a better shot." you barked. The slight purr in your voice earned the attention of Shepard and the guards, much to your displeasure. The dastardly beam that graced Shepard's face put any turian woman's smile to shame. She had admitted that you were a damn good shot before and knew that there was no way that you had to have her raise the targets to take them out.
"Who the hell is that?!"
Over the guard's vicious threat, you heard her response.
"Whatever you say, Vakarian."
In a flash, her hands were illuminated by dark energy. Glass shattered everywhere from her impact and hurled the guards into the air. Just as soon as they had risen, you took them out with two single suppressed sniper shots. The bodies hit the ground with ease, allowing blood to drip from their heads down onto the ground.
You made your way into the previously closed off room before Shepard could and didn't waste time in finding the source of the security beams.
"Cutting the power." you announced. With a sweep of your own omni-tool, the lasers disappeared from outside and your path was no longer blocked.
"Alenko to Shepard, do you copy?"
"Go on, Kaidan."
"I heard gunfire close to my flank, is everything okay?"
You peeked your head out and saw Shepard with a finger to her ear, meaning that she had gotten back in contact with your other squadmate.
"Your flank? You made it farther than we did."
There was a pause on the other end of the line for a brief moment.
"You can't be that far behind. Anyway, I've also got a brief layout of the prison from some data I picked up. This place is a damn maze."
You had to agree with Kaidan on that one. The area began to look more and more run down and primitive as you made your way through. Half the time the flooring was made of broken down rubble. Varren were scattered everywhere and doors didn't seem to work half the time. Water from the rain dripped down and hit your head from the ceilings, which were too low for your frame. It certainly felt like a prison: dark, deceptive and crawling with undesirables. Instead of going up, you made your way further and further into the building's depths. It was a struggle that kept on persisting.
"Upload the links to me and keep them brief. I just got a tip from a guard and I'll search around for more."
She followed your path into the room and stared down at the bodies as if they were an accomplishment.
"I wasn't expecting spontaneity." she commented. "But I'm not complaining. Short range sniping is something you've gotta teach me when we get back to someplace that's got a good shooting range."
As she bent down to search the batarians' pockets, you leaned against a counter and rubbed the plating on your forehead.
"Shepard, can I be frank?"
She paused and pulled out a PDA from one guard's pocket.
"Do you have to ask?"
With a sigh, you continued on.
"This entire thing, it just…I don't know. After working on Omega for so long and seeing everything we've both been through, something feels different about being here. It's unstable, and I don't mean that lightly." you confessed. "We don't even know what the hell we're supposed to be doing. Yes, there's a woman that needs to be rescued and there's Reaper intel involved, but this place is far past what we've done before. The Admiral made it seem so vital to his efforts and it could all be screwed up because of a single communication error. Don't you think that's odd? Hearing the things those guards were mentioning wasn't exactly encouraging, either. Blowing up mass relays doesn't sound like what we signed up for."
Instead of taking a brief pause, she abandoned her task and walked towards you. The harsh light made her violet armor shine against your own damaged blue set. Tufts of hair had slid out of her bun and dark circles had nested below her eye sockets.
"Why do you think I puked before getting off of the shuttle? Things have been fine but I can't help but wonder if something is going to go wrong. If this doctor is planning on blowing up relays, then I'd love to get to her as fast as possible."
A map popped up on her omni-tool, revealing the scattered layout of the prison. Her hand twisted in a pattern and marked a place on the three dimensional map.
"As long as we get out of here in one piece and have the same amount of relays as when we came in, I think this mission could be a success."
She chuckled at your dry attempt at humor and took a step towards the door.
"As long as you're here, I don't think that'll be a problem. Besides, when do our missions ever go as planned?"
"Noted, Shepard."
Your name was Garrus Vakarian and unfortunately for you, neither of those two things were going to happen.
Your name was Garrus Vakarian and you had never been a heavy sleeper.
Ever since you were young, you had grown accustomed to waking up a few times in the middle of the night. Turians didn't require much sleep to begin with. Humans, on the other hand, required about seven to eight hours of rest for optimal performance. This made sleeping beside Shepard a task that you loved and sometimes loathed. According to the old Normandy crew members, Shepard didn't spend much time lost in slumber. She worried too much and saved her dreaming time for later. Regardless of this, you still slept considerably less. As much as you wanted to stay with her, your body grew restless under the sheets as the heat from both of your bodies built up. Once you did wake up, it wasn't uncommon for her body to be melded to yours. Unlike turian women, humans appeared to love close contact while in intimate positions. You had learned this early on in your relationship with Shepard, but this didn't mean that you had grown used to her longer sleeping hours. What you had become accustomed to was having her sleep beside you. Given your distaste for blankets while you slept, she gave off body heat and kept you warm without you being entirely confined by an extensive sheet of cloth.
It felt like she had been beside you just a few minutes prior. Without giving it any thought, you reached over to her side of the bed with your talon and tried to pull her closer to you. Another formerly foreign concept that you had adapted to was cuddling. It was different when you had someone soft to rub up against. There was less friction and it was, in fact, even more intimate than sex itself.
You sat up and rubbed the horns that jutted out of the back of your head. You hadn't shared a bed with Shepard for quite some time, but you never recalled her getting up in the middle of the night unless something was wrong or if she was worried (which had been every night when the Reaper War was on).
"Shepard?" you called, your voice low and hoarse. There was no light on in the bathroom nor was there any brightness escaping from the bottom crack of the bedroom door.
You didn't want to think of the worst possible thing that could have happened to her. Maybe she just forgot to turn the bathroom light on or perhaps she had gone downstairs to get a quick drink. When it came to your partner, thinking of the worst possible outcome was the norm. Nothing was ever average with her.
When there was no response, you succumbed to your own personal circadian rhythm and woke up while the sky was still dark.
That was when you heard the boom followed by a shrill scream that wasn't from anyone in the penthouse. Its eerie tone made you reminiscent of the Ardat-Yakshi that had been turned into sick, ruthless banshees. Their screeches pierced the sound barrier and left a tingling effect on everyone that bore witness to the spectacle that they put on.
The noise made you shoot up at attention and scrounge towards the door in a panic. The word uttered by the feminine voice had sounded an awful lot like your name. Your visor clicked into gear, sending a flash of blue into one of your eyes. The door opened and you hauled your unclothed body down the stairs. Being able to walk around without clothing was the only perk you could think of when it came to having semi-internal reproductive organs.
The downstairs level was dark and deserted. Not a single noise echoed again, and it left you with a feeling that reminded you vividly of the batarian prison that you had visited long ago. You tended to cast the memory of that mission out of your head, but something about your situation made you recall the dark time.
"Shepard, are you alright?" you asked. Regrettably, you lacked a sidearm or something to defend yourself if this was going to be the worst case scenario.
The scream came again, only this time its source made you want to throw up.
"Garrus, please! Just make it all stop!"
You knew that voice better than anyone in the entire galaxy. You had heard it through agony and pain as well as times of happiness and pure ecstasy. It had spoken to you through whispers, secrets, and prayers that were uttered while dotting kisses around your neck. It had spoken at the head of many great battles and a handful of failures.
It was the voice of Commander Liz Shepard, and she still needed your help.
As fast as your feet were capable of carrying you, you ran to the kitchen and picked up her limp body.
"What the hell happened, Shepard? God damn it, just speak!"
She lacked proper clothing, meaning that her body had gone frigid. Between hyperventilation and shivering, she convulsed in your grip and sobbed harder than ever before. To say that she was a mess was an understatement.
Clammy and hot hands slipped into your own talons, which were sopped with tears comprising heavily of salt.
"Don't leave…help…"
Your own breath hitched when she uttered those words. After all of the years of idolizing her and looking up to her, she was doing the same to you. You were the last bit of hope that she had. She hung onto you as if you were her last breath of life. Gone were her days of dominance and control. You held her by a single thread and you had no intention of letting go.
"What do you need? Spirits help me, tell me and I'll do whatever you want!"
Her brows furrowed inwards as she held onto you. The scene in front of you was all too familiar.
Pulses racing, skin going cold and rapid breathing indicated shock. It was common on the battlefield during the fight for Palaven. Turians dropped left and right from the stress.
Most of them were later diagnosed with some sort of mental disorder.
"R-Remind me of something…" she croaked. "Anything. Speak the first thing that comes to mind and make the pain go away!"
The request was an odd one and you didn't know how to oblige. Your talon tightened around her bruised hand and you began to speak of the happiest memory that you could recall.
You had to stay strong for her. If you didn't, then nobody else would. Even if they did, she would still look at you as her rock.
With a firm yet comforting voice, you remained determined to talk her through her shock.
"The first thing I remember, huh? It's gotta be one of the only good moments we've had on this huge spaceship…"
Your name was Garrus Vakarian and you had put on the closest equivalent to a suit and tie that you owned. Instead of opting for a bolder color, the outfit was almost entirely tinted blue with the exception of two vertical stripes in the front. When your salary had gone from nothing to a considerable amount of credits, you had taken the time to take Shepard out shopping with you for new civilian clothes. Although you had selected this outfit yourself, she had complimented your fashion sense and agreed with you one hundred percent when you purchased it.
The Normandy had been docked for shore leave for quite some time now. After the debacle that the crew had just gotten over, you felt like it was time for you and your lady to really unwind and have that first date that you had been planning for at least a year. You felt like a bad boyfriend for putting it off for so long. However, Shepard had joked that it could turn into some sort of roleplaying thing where the two of you could pretend that it was really a first date. Thinking that it was some sort of bizarre human custom, you played along and pretended that there was still some sort of impressing that had to be done on your end.
The two of you had agreed to meet at the Silver Coast Casino's upper bar area, which was known for its blaring popular music, dancing and strong ryncol. Neither of you were ones for the clubbing scene around the Citadel. It wasn't unusual for you to stop into Purgatory every once in a while for a few drinks, but it was never anything major. On Palaven, bar dates were normally frowned upon. As out of place as all of it seemed, you had a sneaking suspicion that something fantastic was going to come out of this.
You ascended the staircase of the bar and looked at the luxurious establishment around you. Rich bankers and politicians threw their money away at bartenders and gambling machines, hoping to flush away the pain with some credits. You shook your head at their attitudes; even though you had money now, you could hardly think about discarding it in such a careless manner.
The upper level of the casino had a crowd that you could mingle in a little easier. Average people who had put on their best clothes or military grunts who were looking for a classier scene flocked up there and scoffed at the expensive drinks. People were crammed everywhere, but they hadn't blocked the clear view of Shepard.
She stood at the bar closest to the dance floor while nursing a human drink known as a martini. The angular glass that contained the clear beverage was almost empty, meaning that she had been here for at least ten minutes. You checked your omni-tool and assured yourself that she had just arrived earlier than you and that you were not late.
Your blue eyes blinked a few times as you looked her over from afar. Tight black dress, metallic necklace and strappy heels decorated her body and you tried to stop yourself from drooling.
That was your girl but for just a few hours you would have to pretend that she wasn't.
Before she caught sight of you, another woman did. As you passed by, a tan and white turian woman locked gazes with you. You weren't going to deny her beauty; it was certainly different than looking at a human for a change. Someone like her was who your family wanted you to be with. She appeared strong and reliable with her firm waist and piercing indigo eyes. A fatal smile made its way onto your lips and you had the nerve to smile back. It was out of politeness, right?
You continued to the bar and leaned against it. Thinking that it was another scoundrel, your date looked up and grimaced until she realized who it was. Her expression changed into a more cheerful one. It lacked the tense undertones that it did on a regular basis. You also detected genuine excitement in her eyes.
Assuming that you were going along with the whole "we first met" thing, you flagged down the bartender and made sure he knew to get you a dextro drink.
"A turian on shore leave?" the redheaded woman pondered. "That's a miracle. What's a man like you doing here?"
You could tell that she was holding back a grin and you were doing the same.
"I come here often to, you know, blow off steam."
Just as you had, Shepard caught a glimpse of the admirable turian woman and kept her eyes focused on her. She felt as if a challenger had arisen and straightened up her posture a bit while you spoke.
"Can't say I don't mind the scenery, either."
Your stare went back to the other woman. You were trying to make things a little realistic, which meant that you weren't necessarily in a committed relationship yet. You could look if you wanted to.
Luckily for you, you had glanced over at the right time. She had started dancing to the club music and her moves were arguably better than your current girlfriend's. You meant that in a joking way; nobody was ever going to be able to beat Shepard at a bad dancing contest. It proved that even the best soldier in the galaxy wasn't capable of being great at everything. Among her flaws, dancing could be counted as one of them.
Shepard, on the other hand, didn't take your realistic attempt in jest. She threw you a glare and you rapidly tried to correct your mistake.
"I'd much rather enjoy what's right in front of me, though."
A smile reappeared onto her face as she finished off her drink.
"I'm sooo impressed." she continued. She paired the sarcasm with an eye roll. "How often does this smooth talking of yours work?"
There was something sexy about her playing hard to get. Your mandibles flicked out in protest and you continued to act like you knew nothing about Liz Shepard whatsoever.
"To be honest, not that much. A lot of ladies just get lost in this voice."
In a bold move, you leaned into her and let your voice turn into a low mixture of a purr and a growl. Along with the scar on the side of your face, your tone tended to drive her wild.
"I'm Garrus Vakarian, better known as Archangel. I'm an all-around turian bad boy who's determined to be a vigilante among the unjust plague that floats across this galaxy."
An unstable bit of air exited her mouth as she looked away, a smile still playing on her candy colored lips.
"Oh, I help kill Reapers on the side, too. And you are?"
The childish expression left her face as she began to do a little self-flattering.
"Commander Liz Shepard, Alliance Navy. I'm the commanding officer of the SSV Normandy and a damn good Spectre. Along with killing Reapers, I also kinda died a year or two ago. I wouldn't call that important, though."
Her smug tone made you drum the tips of your talon on the bar. Your drink, which remained untouched, found its way into your grip and eventually into your mouth.
"You're the Commander Shepard, huh? That's interesting, because I could swear I've heard a few things about you."
She raised an eyebrow and let her hand wander over to yours. Her grip lacked the loving touch it always had. Instead of genuine, it felt flirtatious and lusty. Part of yourself was thinking that she was going to grope you, while the other half knew that she wouldn't dare. She was enjoying this almost as much as you were and there was no sense in spoiling it.
"A lot of the things you hear about me aren't true." she teased. "Care to humor me?"
You mustered up as much as a smile as any turian could.
"Well, rumor has it that you're the smartest and sexiest commander in the Alliance. Damn good shot, too. A certain person also told me that you've got a thing for turians."
"Turians? What kind of human would fall for one of them? They're all scaly and rough."
Your glance faltered yet again. You were losing ideas for all of this small talk and you were really looking forward to kissing her right about now.
"With a voice like this and a, uhm…" You stopped dead in your tracks, unsure of how to list any other assets that came with dating a turian. To be honest, you couldn't think of many.
"Alright Shepard, you win. I can't think of any other ways to compliment myself."
Sensing your lack of experience, she whispered and tried to go along with it as best as she could.
"Just make it up or something. Remember, we just met."
Instead of all of the obnoxious house music that normally echoed around the casino, a different kind of rhythm began reverberating around the second floor. You recognized it as a Latin beat of Earth origins. It was a precise beat that was dominated by a piano and Hispanic sounding beats, making you want to bounce out of your seat and dance.
You suddenly got an idea.
"Uh, right." you continued. "All of the girls fall for me, especially when I do this."
Right along with the music, you pulled Shepard up and out of her seat. She kept her bottom glued to the chair and looked up at you in sheer horror. She had heard the music and saw where you were trying to pull her off to.
"Wait, what? Is this your idea of improv?!"
"You're the one who said to you with it, babe." you retorted. Your voice had grown even suaver but she was still having none of it.
"B-Babe?"
She remained infatuated for a moment until you pulled her out onto the dance floor with the rest of the tangoing couples. Their moves correlated with the beat and it was hard to believe that some of these people weren't professional dancers. Like two embarrassed teenagers, you tried your hardest to pull her out of her seat and onto the floor with everyone else.
"Garrus, no no no no no, don't-"
Before she could protest any longer, you body locked with hers. In a typical tango fashion, you kept one hand on her waist and led her with the other one.
"Come on, I've been taking lessons on the side!" you prompted while whispering into her ear. Instead of embracing the sensual dance, she pulled her head back and looked at you like you were crazy.
"You're gonna fucking pay for this, Vakarian. There's no way you're getting anything tonight."
You spun her around and watched as she stared down at your feet. She tried her best to follow your steps in an effort to not look like a complete idiot. Fortunately, you had been well aware of the challenge that was facing you and took a good lead. It was almost impossible for her to mess up.
"Promises, promises." you purred.
She stepped on your foot and you didn't know whether or not it was accidental. Considering the monstrous glare on her face, you thought that her intentions were clear.
As the tempo picked up, you watched her mouth the rhythm. She counted in time but still managed to screw up her footing whenever you stopped focusing on leading the two of you.
As the beat reached a small peak, you felt her trying to gain control. During this effort, her body found its way against yours and she even started to pick up on the steps a bit more. She stepped on your feet less and less and you didn't have to focus on not dropping her.
"Let me show you a little something." she whispered. She held onto your hand tightly and, in a daring manner, lifted her leg up like an Argentinean woman. Her knee apexed at your waist, and the crowd around you uttered a long "ooh!" in reply to her flaming hot response. When the true peak came in the song, you pulled yourself back and she extended with you. The two of you stood frozen in your place while the rest of the couples began to flee the dance floor to view the spectacle that was playing out in front of them. Even the gorgeous turian lady stopped to realize that her love interest was obviously taken.
Like on the battlefield and in bed, she adjusted to you and adapted to your ways. She wasn't learning the dance per say; it was more or less like she was emulating you and doing a damn good job at it. Your moves became more complicated and she still fell into place like she always did. Swinging, embracing and curving around became second nature for just a few minutes. She laughed along with you while planting clear kisses on your neck and mandibles.
However, her tame demeanor didn't last long.
A familiar spectator stepped in front of the crowd that was forming in front of the two of you. Unbeknownst to you, Lieutenant James Vega had witnessed the entire façade that had played out. He had appeared in front of everyone else to watch his Lola attempt the tango, and you didn't like the smirk on his face.
As you neared him, Shepard pulled another move that made the crowd gasp.
Instead of staying in your grip, she strayed away and wrapped an arm around James' waist. The three of you knew it was all in good fun, but the crowd thought otherwise.
He grunted and almost got pulled into the dance, but you took Shepard's hand and twirled her back in, causing the audience to laugh and cheer.
She allowed herself to let loose even more and fall into line with what you were doing. Spin after spin, she stayed with you until the song drew to a close. As you felt the final beats approaching, you pulled her to the center of the floor and planted a single kiss on her lips before tilting her back and supporting her fully. Her leg climbed up your frame again, sending a chill down your spine. It was the stereotypical finish to the dance, but the crowd had grown wild anyway and began to applaud.
While she was still down, you took the opportunity to continue your long forgotten roleplay.
"So, do you think the girls fall for that or what?"
She batted her eyelashes a few times and replied as you pulled her back up. As if nothing had ever happened, the old clubmixes came on again and everyone got back to dancing.
"Oh hell yes. That's the hottest thing you've ever done with that reach and flexibility of yours."
Now that your hands were free, you put one on her chin and gave her a proper kiss.
"I'm sure it is, but it's nothing compared to what's going to happen tonight. Tango isn't the only thing I'm well versed in."
"Don't I know it."
Your name was Garrus Vakarian and despite the Reaper War, it was still easy to find something that you loved.
She was right in front of you.