Be advised, I claim no right to ideas/characters/ ect contained herein. I do not claim responsibility for Mass Effect, or any affiliated licensed ideas. Rated M for suggestive themes, outright nookie later on, and sorry this took so long!
To the reviewer that prompted my in-box.
OoOoOo
There's a tale, she'd heard once, that Earth children were told.
It was about a piper, whatever the hell that way, who came to charm rats away from a small village somewhere on earth. The people promised him a great deal of creds, or coin as it had been called then, but when the time came to pay him... the people refused.
Shepard had learned a long time ago not to make promises unless you were willing to 'pay the piper'. Because in a 'duct rat's life, everything had a price and whatever was worthless ended up discarded. The Patriarch wasn't pleased today. That did not bode well for her, or those she sought to protect.
Briefly the thought flickers through her mind, that she still did not want to die alone. Especially on Omega of all places.
In a place where even sins shy away from the shame and stench of desperation that clings to these metal walls. Human eyes narrow briefly at the stains on those very walls. How many souls ended their days in the presence of the bastard that held a literal collar around her next. She was a damn pet to this ruthless creature. Once upon a time, perhaps he had held some vague vestiges of 'honor' or 'warrior's pride' that he often rambled on about.
Yet, power had driven him to something far more sinister.
Someone with something to lose.
The most dangerous sort of person. Shepard... Shepard had nothing. She was nothing in the eyes of the Patriarch. It was a position she knew all too well. It had been her lot in life since as long as she could remember. Garrus would be safe now. The families of his men, she would protect to her last breath. But, they weren't really 'hers' to lose. They had no idea who had moved them from the far-reaching influence of a power-drunken Krogan. Shepard new her role, and she played it well.
It was part of the reason she was still alive.
Reptilian eyes stared at her, a strange and twisted grin of delight was clear on the hated face of the Patriarch.
The want for blood has him again, she can tell. He delights in it far too much. Her stomach clenches in distaste. She can do nothing, however, she's just a grown rat playing with the lizards.
He takes a breath, the smell of him in the air makes her want to internally cringe. So far, she has managed to hide the fact that Garrus is Archangel. So far...
But there is still so much to hide from one that would want to see every inch of Omega. She doesn't have to look over her shoulder to know the Turian guard that brought her is utterly loyal to the Patriarch. His pockets are far deeper than hers could ever hope to be.
"I want them dead, Shepard." He commanded in a tone that allowed no room for argument. "Every one of them. No exceptions."
She swallowed heavily. Her gaze hardened slightly, but she merely nodded. It didn't need further explanation. She knew exactly who he wanted. She always did.
The merc groups that thought they could muscle there way in. They would be dealt with most harshly. Even though the Patriarch had used their 'services' just weeks ago.
Her body is stiff, but she manages to turn from him. She needs no further instruction. He'll want her to play the puppet again. To move and dance as he plucks the strings. She has no one to blame but herself. Too caught up in her foolish love-
No.
It was best to hide it, just like everything else that was ever precious to her. The way she had slunk like a criminal into grates and heating ducts to keep the others warm. The way she had cradled starving infants to her undeveloped breasts to keep them quite as they cried out in hunger. How she had worked shady deals and backrooms for the worst sort of scum for enough credits for something as simple as nutrients.
She clenched her teeth, fighting back the swelling sense of shame at herself. She couldn't bare to see herself in the mirror anymore. This monstrosity she had become, in order to survive.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" The Patriach taunts, looking like a king in his castle. Far too comfortable. Too sure of himself.
Shepard loathes him entirely. If she were ever capable of taking another life for any reason other than defense of another, she would have lifted the gun at her hip long ago. She's dreamed of putting a bullet between his eyes many, many times. But, his species has redundant everything and killing a Krogan is a pain in the ass. However, she still thinks of it. The human has plotted it all out before.
Eight times.
However, a rat in the open does not live long.
"Yes, Patriarch," she responds in a detached manner. She's always useful, so she gets to live. Sometimes, she deludes herself into thinking maybe that means something. But today is not one of those times.
"How would you like me to dispose of them?"
She doesn't need to know, but she understands this is part of how he feels superior. She barely manages to suppress the urge to curl her upper lip into a snarl. Respect keeps her alive. Though she is in a cage. She's not foolish enough to think she'll ever leave. Pets die with their owners. But, she'll be around until the bitter end.
His sharp teeth gleam as his eyes narrow in avid amusement.
"In the most painful way possible."
Her blood chills in her veins and she feels sick, but cannot let it show. She will be the shield now, the puppet that shows no trace of emotion. He is always watching. Waiting for the excuse to punish her.
She won't give it to him easily. She risked enough to protect Garrus, but she is not so brash as to earn the Patriarch's ire.
The others would pay as well.
"Of course." She responds too lightly, nearly mechanically.
Someone snickers in the background, her 'guard' maybe?
"Of course?" He questions lowly.
"Patriarch." The frail human concedes as she slowly moves her gaze.
In moments like this... she truly misses the Citadel.
OoOoOo
Garrus is not a patient Turian by nature. Oh, there's been a time or two in his youth that he claimed he was, but it was all a lie and he knew it. So the few minutes it takes for Shepard, who is still only alive because he needs his damn answers and he needs them now, to reappear seem to an eternity and a half.
He's been prepared to scope and drop some of the gyrating bodies that bumped into him as he blended into the throng of intoxicated patrons of all species. He also thought he glimpsed one of his own species in the corner attempting to dance with an Asari.
It was not pleasant.
Nor was being tracked down by the Asari he'd flirted with earlier. She'd ben inclined to think they were going to end up somewhere more secluded. Garrus had managed to shake her off with a few well placed lines and a generous tip. From a cred chip stolen from someone else.
Deep inside of himself, he knows he's not the Turian he used to be. What grand ideals had done to him was nothing short of destruction.
However, the Azure gaze did manage to catch sight of Shepard being 'escorted' out of a private room. One that oversaw the main dance floor and bar. It gave an excellent view of all the entrances and exits. How very... strategic. That place mattered, he could feel it in his plates. His mandibles clicked closed in contemplation as his avian eyes wandered over Shepard's appearance.
Her strange human eyes seemed different than they had a before she entered that room. She'd been wary before, now she seemed-
Empty.
Its not right. It makes his fringe itch uncomfortably. His instincts are roaring to life to protect the human, but she's the reason his men are dead. Possibly. Perhaps. His head aches and his plates feel too tight, but he grits his teeth, making his mandibles shift as he watches her. He doesn't have all the pieces, but years in C-SEC have taught him well. Garrus feels a flood of primal rage.
Had she lied to him?
Had he been 'duped' as the humans put it?
If so, why?
But, as he watched the vast emptiness in her gaze, and noted that frown marring her features was universal for upset humans, he knew. She might not be the danger, but Shepard knew who the danger was. And, Garrus, dearly wanted that information. He'd already killed for it. It did not bother him to continue to do so. Most of Omega was degenerates and-
Rage combined with confusion within him.
Good and bad. Right and wrong. Those he knew everything about. He understood what to do and when to do it. Why he would do it. Yet with gray...he did not know what to do with gray. All of Shepard seemed as if it were cast in a gray fog at the moment.
He stole a drink from a Salarian at the bar.
"Hey!" The male huffed indignantly. "You have to pay for that."
Garrus didn't care. He grinned, his mandible lifting slightly, as he tossed some credits down. Well, he was occasionally one for a show. Now was that time. The exit to his left was open, he only counted drunken patrons by it. He could discard his shoddy armor on the way out. Civilian clothes were easy to come by, and he was already a dead man in his own eyes.
He withdrew closer toward the lower exit, moving as if he were just ready to leave. Nothing suspicious in the slightest as he blended into the shadows. He reached for the clasps on his armor. His will was set in steel. Garrus Vakarian, a long time ago, had been a dedicated member of C-SEC and wholly committed to the idea that the universe could be a better place.
Perhaps, it was in honor of who he used to be, that he raised his gun and aimed. He took a breath, feeling equal parts alive and afraid. He was kicking a wild Verrin, it would turn around and bite him, he was sure of it. However...
He really did not do well with gray areas...
It was far too easy to pull the trigger. The Batarian next to Shepard didn't feel a thing. Which he nearly thought was a pity. Maybe he was just that pissed off. They had tried to kill him, after all. They owed him this one.
The body hit the floor, and Garrus was moving, but his avian gaze never left Shepard. She whirled, her strange human gaze wide and unblinking. The Turian guard moved closer toward the door of the room she'd left.
Not closer to Shepard.
The gray area faded, as his mind snapped the missing pieces into place.
Whatever was going on, Shepard was most certainly not Omega. If her guards left her out in the open to die.
Right and wrong made sense again, and he put his gun away, exiting quietly as the room exploded into chaos and several other shots were fired. More than a few would die tonight in the confusion. But, something in him knew Shepard would live. Duct rats knew when to hide. A small moment of shame flashed through him as mentally scolded himself.
The human was not a simple duct rat.
She wasn't evil either.
She was Shepard again.
And right now, there were a bunch of guys with guns that didn't like him, that would come looking very soon. But first things first...
OoOoOo
Shepard bolted.
She didn't know why, it was instinctual. Run when things turn ugly, but they had and now her 'guard' was dead. She didn't know the name. She never knew the names. It hardly mattered. But, she knew what to do. One step to the right, slip down to remove the grate, the grate led to air shaft. From there go through the main line, until she reached the grate the ended out in back alleyway.
The metal clattered loudly as she took a ragged breath. She could breath again. Away from the eyes that constantly watched her. Like the good little pet she was. Filthy duct rat that she was. Shepard managed to swallow as she climbed out into the alleyway. She'd barely dusted herself off, when strong arms grabbed her from behind.
She never managed to scream.
A voice purred in her ear.
"I'm heavily armed, but I have to ask, are you having a bad day Shepard?"
Her mind turned blank. She knew that voice.
Garrus.
Ruefully she took a moment to realize that maybe he wasn't as smart as she'd hoped he was.