Sadly, none of the characters belong to me... unless BioWare or EA wants to give me Garrus? I'd appreciate it.
How long before the bullet hits her? Garrus wondered, eyes still glued to it as it continued to sail through the air. Every nanosecond felt like an hour, every moment seemed to drag on and on. But he wasn't complaining. It was almost the end, it was almost over. The last few drops of Ryncol at the bottom of the bottle, the last gasps of air before your body gave out. Sweet, dizzying, tantalizing.
He needed to make it last.
Until the last possible second.
He was aware that the world had turned silent around him. All of his senses honed, focusing on the bullet. Every fiber in his body was taught, watching it make its way through the air, closer and closer towards her.
But the memories sprung up, creeping silently across his vision like thick quivering black ropes, pulling him back again.
Garrus woke up alone.
He wasn't surprised, not really. He knew Shepard, knew she didn't do awkward situations, and he couldn't promise that after their little drunken breakthrough last night that things wouldn't be awkward.
It was better this way. He forced his body off of the floor, mindful of the mess. He walked over to one of the main consoles, prepared to start his calibrations, when EDI's voice filtered into the room.
"Garrus, Commander Shepard wanted me to tell you that you are on rotation for today's mission."
His talons froze above the console.
"Garrus?"
Air stuttered out of his lungs in a rough cough. "I'm here…uh, what's the mission—"
"To find and relay any Cerberus Intel. Completion of the Crucible is top priority, this Intel can facilitate its construction."
Garrus nodded sharply once. "Got it EDI. How long do I have—"
"Approximately one hour and ten minutes until deployment."
More nodding. Garrus ran a trembling hand over his face once, twice. "Got it."
He could tell when EDI cut the connection, and was grateful for the privacy. Air passed through his mouth in rapid breaths, his heart beat a bit harder, a bit faster, in anticipation.
He turned on his heel, marching out of the Battery with a renewed sense of purpose and a shit-eating grin.
The thud of his heart was the only thing he could hear, the only thing he focused on. He raised his assault rifle, aimed at the nearest Cerberus spawn, and pulled the trigger.
A spray of blood.
A change in position.
Another shot.
A similar spray.
Over and over and over again.
Shepard was slightly up ahead, charging into the fray as per usual. Her biotics shone around her like a full-body halo. Gun cradled in her hands at the ready, she jumped over another barricade and greeted her enemies with a barrage of bullets.
A stray operative was jogging around her flank, her blind side. He raised his gun, took a breath and pulled the trigger. He went down like a stone and with no less sound.
"Clear. Main terminal in sight."
Even though Tali was hooked up to the same comm link, Garrus would like to think that Shepard was talking to him alone.
"Gotcha. I'm on your six."
" Wouldn't expect you anywhere else."
They charged forward, Tali and Garrus flanking Shepard in a tight Delta shape. When they reached the terminal, Tali made quick work of it, cracking codes and firewalls while Garrus and Shepard held down their position.
It was like nothing changed, they were close enough that they could easily read each other's body signs and facial expressions. They moved in sync, dancing around each other, hearts beating to the same rhythm.
Shepard threw explosive crates at the advancing operatives like they were toys. Garrus landed a bullet in each one just before they hit the ground, grinning at the explosion that always caught the enemy by surprise.
Garrus could hear Shepard's laughter across the comms, rich and low and filled with the thrill of battle. He'd be lying if he said that it didn't make him feel a certain way.
"All done Shepard, permission to download information."
"Granted." Shepard's voice was louder, and he looked over to see her approaching his position. Getting out of his semi-crouch, he fought back the pleasant shivers at her advance. She threw him a grin that spoke volumes.
Her hair was unruly, red locks falling and curling haphazardly. The blood of Cerberus operatives darkened her metallic gray armor, some even splattered on her face. During the fight she tried to wipe it off with her cheeks, making it stain her face in scarlet streaks.
"Let's hope there's some stuff we can use." Shepard said, folding her arms over her chest. "We don't have time to waste on wild goose chases."
Confusion bloomed in his stomach. "Wild what?"
A grin broke out over her features, making her already slightly manic expression look even more crazed. Pupils slightly enlarge, emerald eyes seeming to glow, she looked every bit like a warrior in her element.
"Don't worry about it Garrus."
A laugh rumbled low in his chest. "Another human saying I've no hope in understanding?"
Her nod was unapologetic. "'Course."
"Great."
They fell into a type of routine after that. They'd go on a mission, usually to gather intel on the Crusible, do their thing, and drink Ryncol until they couldn't stand up. Garrus became more familiar with the floor of the Battery than he ever thought possible, but he wasn't making any complaints. He'd pass out in a drunken stupor with Shepard, and wake up alone. The day would begin again and they'd wash, rinse and repeat.
Again, no complaints.
And in the rare moments between missions, he'd sit on the floor of the Battery and clean his guns, trying to work out the tar-like buildup of stress in his body. Sometimes he'd even catch himself humming quietly to himself.
Sometimes, Shepard would be there with him, in the middle of a pool of PADDs, each varying in size. Her dog tags would dangle around her neck, and every so often he'd catch her chewing on them, deep in thought. Other days she'd be twirling the tags around her fingers, and ask him to tell her a story, and he'd indulge her without hesitation.
Those days would pass by too quickly for Garrus, because he knew what those days were for. They worked into the ebb and flow of war, of life.
One moment, shit's exploding all around you and you're up to your calves in someone else's blood and you smell like burnt skin and sweat and death and in the next, you're back on the ship, talking and screwing around. You're acting like that morning hadn't been hell and acting like you're not pissed off or tired and acting like you don't miss your home.
You're ignoring the fact that your body aches and you still smell like blood and you can still taste it in the back of your throat.
Because when those moments come, those quiet unhurried moments, you take advantage of them. Because you know they go too fast and in another day, another hour, you could be dragged back into hell.
With no shout, or warning at all.
A/N:
Does this count as a cliffhanger? I don't even know...
Sorry for completely dropping off the face of the earth, I blame the whole college process. It's evil~
But thanks to all the people who viewed, commented and followed the story, I've got a plan in mind now that I plan to carry out in the next few weeks/months (now that I got my shit together). I hope to put out another chapter soon.
Thanks so much~ plz drop a review on your way out. They make me feel all happy inside 3