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The bullet was still cutting through the air when he resurfaced from the torrent of flashbacks that seized him. He was aware of nothing but the thunderous beating of his heart against his ribs, and the bullet that was about to kill the woman he loved.
He needed a reason to kill her. He needed a reason. He was searching anxiously, grasping at threads of memories, trying to make sense of it all. His mind obliged him, bringing him under once again, and Garrus allowed it. He could feel the memories wash over him and into him, until he was living them once more.
Shepard avoided him like hell after that, didn't bring him on any more missions, didn't visit the battery; nothing. He remembered standing in front of one of the many gun consoles, talons typing furiously as his anger continued to rise.
Another mission I'm left out of. He thought angrily. Replaced by fucking Vega.
He didn't hate the marine, he just hated that he'd been completely and unquestionably replaced, and he couldn't do shit about it. All he could do was sit on his ass and wait for Shepard to notice him again.
Meantime, Tali and occasionally Liara stopped by repeatedly to talk to him. Most of their conversations ran the same course. First, they'd talk about mundane things, the food in the Mess or his addiction to calibrations. Then they'd wander around the Battery, searching for words; trying to find a way to say what they needed to say.
Then finally they'd just spit it out; ask about Shepard, how they're worried about her, how he should be worried. He'd cut them off, saying,
"She's replaced me. Nothing I can do about it."
They wouldn't believe him. "You should talk to her Garrus, maybe she'll—"
And he'd cut them off again. "If you haven't noticed, Shepard doesn't do talking. She just acts, and expects everyone to follow along whether they got the fucking memo or not. That's the way she is."
That'd shut them up for a minute, before they would fire back, "So you're just going to lie there and take it—"
"Did you come here for something?" He'd snap, "Because if you did, then get to the goddamn point. I've got shit to do."
Tali would sigh, mutter something under her breath and stalk out of the Battery. Liara would clench her fists, blue biotic energy pulsing, before shaking her head.
"Forget it." She said, before she too left.
He didn't know how to feel once they were gone. Anger was always the quickest to show its face, but always the fastest to leave. It was that burning sensation, the frustration in knowing that they spoke the truth that lasted the longest.
But he had a quick remedy for that. He'd just walk on over to his stash of liquor, pop the top, and take a long drag of it until it filled his stomach. He'd drink until his body felt warm all over and his hands shook gently. He'd drink until this thoughts turned to mud and bled into each other uselessly. He'd drink until he forgot about the anger and the pain and the hurt. Then, he'd walk over to the main console, hit the lock, and slide down onto the floor, staring at nothing, seeing nothing.
It wasn't until Shepard came back from Thessia, limping and bleeding, that he'd finally grown a quad. While Shepard was being dragged to Chawkas, and Liara had run off to who-the-fuck-knows-where, Garrus cornered Vega in the elevator.
"What happened?"
The bulky marine looked up at him, saw he wasn't in the mood for bullshit, and told him. Everything.
Garrus leaned up against the wall of the elevator and sighed, shutting his eyes tight. Damn war.
"And Shepard? How'd she fare?"
Vega shrugged, staring at his boots sheepishly. "Kai Leng did a number on her. Neither the doc or I saw him in time…" He let his sentence trail off into silence, looking anywhere except at Garrus.
Good, because the facial expression he was making would've scared most marines. Without looking at him, Vega asked, "Feel up to a little sparring?" His voice cut into the silence.
Garrus didn't respond, but hit the floor number that took them to the training decks. The marine smiled.
Ten minutes. That's how long it took for shit to get real.
Garrus hadn't planned on taking it easy; by no means, but he wasn't planning on doing serious damage to the kid.
He is your replacement, after all.
So Garrus played it safe, dodged mostly, attacked only when he felt he had to. It was turning into more of a cardio exercise than anything else.
But it didn't take long for Vega to realize that Garrus was pulling his punches. A muscle ticked in his jaw before he decided to open up his big fat mouth and start goading him.
Garrus threw another half-assed punch.
"Oh come on Scars, that all you got?"
More movement, more dodging.
"You're the top hand-to hand specialist on this ship?" Vega asked, throwing a punch of his own; one Garrus easily deflected.
"The one and only."
Vega laughed, blocking a throw Garrus had aimed to his ribs. "You kiddin' right?"
Garrus could feel something stir in his chest. He ignored it; dodging another punch aimed at his face.
"Nope."
Vega launched a fist toward Garrus' head, one Garrus easily dodged. "I dunno, must be your age or somethin' Scars, but you don't seem too tough to me."
There it was again, that same feeling gripping his chest. Barely biting back a growl, Garrus landed a quick punch to the Marine's side. It was a glancing blow, one Vega easily shrugged off.
"That it?"
Vega swung again, a quick jabbing combo. Garrus deflected his hits, a growl escaping his mouth.
"What's with this dodging shit? Fuckin' hit me!"
Another punch, another glancing blow. This one more deliberate, more painful.
The feeling in Garrus' chest tightened, making it harder to breathe, to think, to pull his punches.
"Shut it Vega—"
"What, afraid to think I might be catching up to you? S'okay to admit it Scars, there's nothin' wrong with the truth."
Garrus got closer to Vega, invading his space, and dropped a few short, sharp jabs along his ribcage.
He was panting now, not from exertion, but from the tightness in his chest. His vision swam, the edges of his field of view turning a deep blue.
Vega managed to knee Garrus in the thigh, twist, and grab him by the Cowl. The marine struggled, trying to get him in a choke hold. One of his heels dug into the space between his spur and the back of his leg, causing the Turian's growl to turn fully dual-toned in barely surpassed rage.
Vega laughed by Garrus' ear. "I think it's time for you to pass that title on down, Abuelo." Garrus dodged another would be elbow jab, spun, and punched Vega in his shoulder, uncaring of the way Vega's face twisted in pain.
Vega stumbled, tried to regain momentum with a windmill kick. Garrus caught him by the ankle and twisted, heard a crack.
He saw the Marine's face twitch in pain, and couldn't stop his mandibles from widening in a smile.
Garrus braced his other hand along James' calf so that he could use Vega's momentum to flip him; sending the marine spiraling to the floor.
Garrus pressed his knee into James' back.
"You think you can replace me, Vega?"
"Fuck—" Vega gasped, struggling to breathe. "Garrus—"
"You're a kid. You're a good marine, a good soldier, but you're a child." He presses down harder. "Can you watch her six?"
"Gar—"
"Can you? Answer me soldier."
Vega, unable to speak, nods jerkily, face growing red as his oxygen supply is cut off.
"If you're taking my place you better fucking believe it. She doesn't die. Got that Vega? She doesn't die. I'd rather you take a bullet through the brain than have her limping in like some abused varren." With every word Garrus increased pressure on Vega's back, growling as the marine clawed at the plush mat beneath him, trying to escape.
"She's got the weight of the whole motherfucking galaxy on her little shoulders. You better make sure nothing happens to her. I don't care what you have to do, who you have to kill. Just do it."
Garrus stands up, yawning at the human's gasps. The way he lies there choking back air is practically disgusting. Garrus doesn't spare him a glance as he heads toward the elevator.
"I don't want—I'm not trying to-replace you." Vega forced out, voice raw and rough.
Garrus shook his head and punched in the ship level to the Battery. "You don't have a choice."
He barely managed to make it back to the Battery without snapping any necks. Barely. Everyone seemed to want to talk to him, have a goddamn conversation, bitch about the weather. He didn't have time for it, any of it. He had a bottle of Ryncol in the Battery with his name on it.
As soon as the doors opened, he made a beeline for it; didn't even bother looking for a glass. He just popped the top and took a long hard drink. The liquid burned his throat and pooled in his stomach, mixing with the ration bars he'd eaten hours ago.
He walked over to a corner and sat, tipping the bottle back again. He tried not to dwell on what happened with Vega. He'd nearly lost control, hell he had lost control, even if it was just for a few seconds. It was enough to knock some sense into him. He needed to stay the hell away from Vega, until—
Until Shepard takes you back? Not fucking happening, Vakarian. She's made her choice.
He took another sip.
He could deal with it, hell, he's been dealing with it. He just needed to stay away from Vega and Shepard until further notice. He needed to stop asking about the missions, needed to stop being so damn obsessed about her health, her wellbeing. He needed to stop all of it.
He took a long drag of the liquor, sighing happily when he felt his awareness dampen and his emotions dim. He kept drinking. It wasn't enough, not yet.
Not yet.
He could feel himself slip away, bit by bit he felt his thoughts bleed together, fantasy mixing with reality, contaminating each other until he didn't know what was up, what was down.
He drifted in his intoxicated bliss for Spirits knew how long.
His blood rushed through his ears like the woosh of a door opening, fast and loud and strong. He felt the bottle slip from his hands but didn't hear it shatter, or see the glass splinter as it hit the floor.
He was aware that he was speaking, to himself, to whomever. Words tore from his chest and crawled out his throat in harsh low rumbles.
"Off a fucking cliff." His heartbeat thundered in his ears like the sound of footsteps. "I would've followed you off a fucking cliff. I would've kicked Kai Leng's ass, chopped his head off with his motherfucking sword…would've let you watch… hell, we could've done it together." A noise ripped from his liquor-filled stomach, burning his throat on the way out. If he was more coherent, he'd have thought it was a whine.
Or a cry.
Or whatever.
"We could've…together…"
He heard the crack of glass being ground into the floor. He saw a blur of colors, his mind registered that someone was in front of him, wearing civvies?
"What the hell's happening to you Vakarian?"
Her voice was like a bucket of cold water poured on his head, sending shivers down his spine. Jane.
He opened his mouth, worked his mandibles, tried to speak, but to no avail. His mouth was useless.
Just like you.
"Come on, Vakarian." She sighed, he could feel her warm breath fan out over his face. "One of us needs to keep it together."
He gurgled in reply.
Another sigh. "Am I gonna have to take you to Chawkas? You downed a whole bottle of Ryncol, like a dumbass."
Speak, damnit, speak.
"Mmh…" Words Vakarain, use your words. "Doin' fine."
"Bullshit."
No, you're bullshit. "Nothin'…can't handle."
"You sure about that?"
Are you?
He must've spoken aloud, because he saw her stiffen. It was a while before she croaked out, "I've been meaning to…" She fidgeted, looking about nervously. "Talk."
His head was starting to clear a bit; things were taking on more concrete shapes instead of being all fuzzy.
He managed a jerky nod. "Talk."
More fidgeting. "I'll come back later, when you're sober and I'm—"
Tired of running? Will that be before or after this war is over?
Bye the look on her face he knew he'd spoken his thoughts again. Oh well, he was tired of censoring himself.
Her face set into a stubborn mask, and she sat down across from him, leaning against a stack of gun crates.
"Fine." She said, rubbing a hand through her already disheveled hair. "But if you fall asleep Vakarian, I swear I'll falcon punch you in the jugular."
He groaned as he sat up, and managed a sloppy smile. "Noted."
A/N: Thanks for reading! Please drop off a review on your way out~