Again, many thanks to my awesome beta, DeliriumGothuique, for her hard work - this chapter would have never been so awesome without her aid!
As usual, You are invited to my deviantArt gallery (link in my profile page) for the accompanying comic page.
Everything belongs to BioWare, with small exception of Danielle.
Entry 3
"…exhibit A in a xenobiological museum…"
One thing I can be sure of – I have been woken up by a conversation.
I open my eyes with some difficulty. I cannot remember when the last time my eyelids have felt so heavy. It is like a hangover – only much worse, because it is undeserved. My head is pounding, my body is aching and I am pretty sure I look even worse than I feel. For a long moment I stare at the sickbed curtains in front of me. Cold, bluish light of the medical bay sifts from beyond them, but the corner I am tucked in is pleasantly dim and cosy. I am beginning to wonder whether I should not try and fall back asleep again, but then I remember what has caused me to wake up, because the voices start talking again. I unconsciously begin to listen.
First voice is easy, even in my current state. It is warm and carries a distinctive burden of age. It belongs to Doctor Chakwas.
'I'm telling you, you got skinny, Garrus. What have you been eating on that godforsaken station? I'm going to ask Gardner to arrange something extra for your diet…'
The second voice is alien, but surprisingly pleasant; low, with that that specific, flanging undertone to it that only a turian would have. It is quite impossible that it belongs to Garrus, he could not have woken up yet… Or could he? How long have I been asleep?
I stir under the blanket and I realise I am fully clothed – well, almost, since my boots are neatly placed near the sickbed. I must have fallen asleep after I took a shower and dressed myself back in my working clothes. I have no idea why I did that and why did I actually go to the med bay instead of crew quarters. It is quite possible that my very sleepy brain tried to insist on me fulfilling my duties, but nevertheless I feel a little silly.
A normal person would just go to sleep and not pretend to be always ready to assist, but not me. Sense of duty always gets the hold on me in situations like that, as if I had to prove myself that I am a responsible person, over and over. It is no different today.
I reach out towards the bedside table to find my translator earplug, which I have obviously removed before falling asleep. I cannot understand a word the turian is saying without it – his speech is just a mess of gnarling, screeching and occasional hisses. Unfortunately, my hand-eye coordination is not really the best at the moment and instead of picking up the earplug, I carelessly push the glass of water from the surface of the table and it crashes against the floor.
The conversation stops immediately. I hear hurried footsteps approaching me and a moment later the bedside curtain is pulled aside. I blink and squint my eyes because the lights blind me for a small second and then the silhouette of Doctor Chakwas appears, casting some welcomed shade over my face.
'So you've finally woken up, Danielle,' she says and reaches with her hand towards my forehead, checking for temperature. It is sort of a gesture my mother would make and I cannot help but feel very warm on the inside. 'How are you feeling?'
'Peachy,' I venture and she smiles at me.
'You've been out for a long while. Come, I'll help you get up.'
With her aid I sit on the bed, put the boots on and get up. Then I quickly reach for my translator and plug it inside my ear before looking over Doctor Chakwas' shoulder towards the rest of the med bay. The turian is indeed awake - sitting cross-legged on the same bed we have put him on… a while ago. He is only half-clothed and I can see that Doctor Chakwas must have been checking on his arm wounds, because the IWDS bandages are gone. He notices me looking at him and raises his uninjured, left arm in a greeting. I automatically wave back.
'How long, exactly, have I slept, Doctor?' I ask, not taking my eyes off the turian. I may not have seen too many of his species naked, but those I have seen in my anatomy atlas were nothing compared to the specimen I now have in front of me – slender, but not thin; with hard wires of muscle under greyish, scaled skin, he is an image of strength and agility. I cannot help but admire that.
Xenobiologically, of course.
'Almost seventeen hours,' Doctor Chakwas informs me, apparently unaware of my inner awe. 'Long enough for Vakarian here to get up and demand his armour back.'
'He should still be unconscious,' I protest weakly. 'His injures… were pretty severe.'
'One rocket to the face is not enough to keep me chained to a bed for long, Doctor,' Garrus interrupts me from his bed and I could swear he is winking at me. 'I've been through worse than that.'
I look from him to Doctor Chakwas, who shrugs with a faint smile on her lips.
'Hard to argue with this one, Danielle, I swear. Back on the old Normandy I always had trouble forcing him to take a day off to let his injuries heal. Turians are like that.' She walks back to Garrus and affectionately pats him on the uninjured shoulder. 'Duty above all.'
'Oh, don't remind me, Doctor. I'm not that good at being a dutiful turian, I'm afraid.'
I do not know what to think. Almost forgetting about my sore limbs, I take a few steps towards them to take a look on the turian myself. Without the bandage to cover them up, his wounds still look quite terrifying. Burnt flesh on the right side of his face starts to get replaced with patches of pale blue new tissue. I try to be careful, but whenever I brush my fingers against it, the turian winces a little. His skin is hot to the touch and there is a significant swelling of those parts that are not covered by scales, but I can tell this is just a reaction to the treatment and not an inflammation, which would be much more dangerous. I move my hand lower to his bruised arm, but the moment I touch it, Garrus utters a hiss.
'Sorry!' I say quickly.
'No, it's nothing,' he assures me, but there is no way I am going to believe it. Patches of bruises, so deeply blue that they almost seem black, run alongside his arm around the stitches. I imagine at the moment when the rocket had exploded, the armour has protected the bone from shattering, but the impact must have been too great to be fully absorbed by the shields.
'Can you move this arm at all?' I ask and Garrus lifts it just a few inches before letting it fall back with a deep sigh. Of course he cannot, just as I assumed. I raise an eyebrow doubtfully.
'Doctor Chakwas said that you have demanded your armour back, correct?' I inquire and the turian shrugs – carefully, with his left shoulder only. 'I am not that sure I am going to let you get up yet,' I warn him and he looks at Doctor Chakwas questioningly.
'Doc, that almost sounded like a threat.'
'Don't underestimate Danielle,' she gives him a look and I must admit that I am grateful for her taking my side. 'She's tougher than she looks like plus she has the final word in this.'
'Final word?' Now both Garrus and I stare at Doctor Chakwas with surprise.
'You're his designated medic for the time he is on the Normandy,' she says and smiles. 'You wanted to prove yourself and you have. Shepard decided you can take on some responsibilities of the medical officer and I agreed with him.'
I realise I am standing there with my mouth ajar and I quickly shut it. I cannot decide whether I am more surprised than scared or proud. I risk a quick glance at Garrus and I see he is smiling at me, in that weird way turians smile, with his mandibles flaring gently in and out. I assume it means he is slightly confused.
Goodness, as if I was not… I resist the urge to rub my forehead, because I would not like to make an impression that I consider him a burden. I feel a little lost. It would be so much better, if instead of receiving this information now, when I am sleepy, sore and exhausted, I would have preferred to hear about my new assignment when I was fresh and composed… But I must not be a disappointment. Not to the turian, not to Doctor Chakwas and definitely not to myself. I take a deep breath to calm down.
'Right…' I begin, pause and try out a small smile. 'Mister Vakarian, my name is Danielle Johannsen, which I had failed to mention earlier… And, apparently, I am going to be your designated medic for the time of this- this mission. I want to assure you that I will do my best to keep you in a perfect health.'
He chuckles – or at least tries to, raising his hand to the injured side of his face as if he was trying to keep it from falling apart. I feel kind of sorry for making him laugh, even though I had no intention to.
'Doctor Johannsen,' he replies after a moment and shoots a glance at Doctor Chakwas behind me. 'I must admit, I'll probably be your most frequent patient from now on. I admit I've always been visiting Normandy's medical lab a lot – you know, all those bullets flying around and turians really, really cannot duck – but now…'
The look he gives me now is both flattering and teasing, and it knocks me off rhythm. It is not the first time ever that my patient tries to flirt with me – more or less subtly – but I find it hard not to feel a certain excitement under the gaze of those pale blue eyes. I catch myself thinking, "He is quite handsome for a turian" and immediately wave that idea away. It must be my drowsiness messing up with my head. I do my best to keep my composure when I smile back at him.
'Certainly. May I remind you that office hours of the bay range from 8 am to 9 pm standard Earth time and any inquiry made beyond this designated period needs to be justified by life-threatening circumstances?'
'I'm perfectly sure I can come up with a few, if needed,' Garrus winks at me and I can hear Doctor Chakwas snorting with laughter behind me. My grin grows wider too.
'I would be most interested to hear them, in that case. For the time being I think I have seen enough. Doctor Chakwas, where can I find his IWDS bandages?'
'In the sterilising container near the bed,' she points to the right. 'You should go and eat something, Danielle. I can do those for you.'
'If I may, I would like to do this myself,' I declare, even though my stomach growls when she mentions food.
'Very well. I'll go and let Gardner know that you woke up, I was going to pick up my supper anyway,' Doctor Chakwas says and she leaves the bay, leaving me with the turian.
Supper… Goodness, I really was out for long! I try not to think about it for a moment and instead I concentrate on the bandages. I still cannot believe I can lay my hands on those. IWDS stands for Intelligent Wound Dressing System – a cutting edge piece of technology, something the Sirta Foundation was practically just releasing on the market. The bandage itself is made of organic fibres, filled with nanotechnology responsible for releasing just an adequate dose of stimulants and sterilisers to keep regenerating tissue in perfect regrowth conditions. I remember reading about how much the regrowth rate is accelerated, regardless of the nature of injury, and how impressed I was by the diagrams. Now I have the opportunity to see it at work with my own eyes!
I realise I am probably staring at the sterilising container for a bit too long and I turn to face the turian with an apologetic smile. Not sure if Doctor Chakwas has already mentioned how to handle the IWDS to him, I start to explain how it all works – how often the bandage needs to be taken off and sterilised to avoid complications, how often would I like to see him in the medical bay for the necessary health assessment. Garrus smiles at me when I mention the last.
'Every two days, Doctor? Not that I'm going to complain, but is that really necessary?'
I give him a questioning look. I wonder what he means by that; does he think I am exaggerating?
'For the first couple of weeks, absolutely, Mr Vakarian. The tissue regeneration is a complicated process and I would not want to risk any infection to get in the way of getting you back to perfect health. I believe it is equally important to you, considering the fact you need to be fully capable whenever Shepard wants to take you with him on a mission, am I right?'
He fumbles for a moment, as if he wanted to argue with me a little more, but then he utters a sigh and nods.
'Yeah, I think you're right, Doctor…' He pauses and gives me a serious look. 'Tell me, but honestly. How bad is this? When do you think I'll be, as you said, "fully capable?"'
I don't reply immediately. I take time to put the bandages on his arm, where they automatically adhere to the skin, then I run my fingers along his hand and place my palm on his – long and thin, with three awkwardly alien fingers.
'Full recovery might take a while, Mr Vakarian,' I say finally. 'With all the resources we have the access to, we will do our best to speed it up, but it will take a month, maybe two. I will inform Commander Shepard that you will require at least ten days before being allowed on a mission.'
He listens to me, his face almost expressionless, but I can sense a tension behind this calm demeanour. Perhaps he thinks himself useless at the moment, being a soldier that is going to be stuck in bed for at least a while longer. I cannot really tell, but I feel the sudden urge to give him a comforting hug. Instead, I take back my hand from his, realising that might be seen as a violation of his personal space. He does not seem to notice, however.
'Seems like that's quite a while, those ten days.' There is a hint of a joke in his voice and I can see witty sparks in his eyes. 'Could you at least give me a mirror, maybe? Doctor Chakwas didn't want to do that…'
I make a move towards my sleeping place, where I know my cosmetic bag should be, and I stop.
'You really want it now?' I make sure. 'It has only been a day and the wounds… well, it is going to show, even after they are fully healed, but right now…'
'I think I can handle my own face, Doctor,' Garrus winks at me. 'Please?'
When I come back and give him a small, compact mirror, he takes a long moment to examine his reflection. Fingers tracing along purple swelling along stitches, wincing every time he hits a soft spot, he again looks like he could use some hug.
And I could probably use some supper to stop these confusing thoughts from interrupting me, I realise.
'Well… It could've been worse, I guess,' the turian finally decides to break the silence and handles me the mirror back. 'I heard some women find facial scars attractive… Mind you, most of those women are krogan.'
I cannot help but giggle at this, a nervous, girlish giggle I really hate myself for at the moment, but it does seem to ease the tension in the room. Garrus grins back at me, his mandibles moving in and out.
'I am sure not all of them,' I venture and he tilts his head to the side, giving me another of those teasing looks.
'Really? If you were one of them, Doctor, how many points would I score with this one?' Garrus points at his right mandible, where the scar runs diagonally, cutting a fading blue marking of his home colony in half. I tilt my head to the side as he did and pretend I am inspecting it in great detail.
'If I fancied facial scars, then on a scale from one to ten, I would give you a solid seven for this.'
'Seven? You're hurting my feelings, Doctor!'
'The overall score would be nine, though.'
That makes him snort with laughter. 'Ah, don't, please! My face barely holds up as it is…'
'This might help a little.' I take the second bandage from the steriliser and place it on his right cheek. Garrus utters a sigh when the fibre settles on his skin and I can only imagine his relief at the cooling sensation.
'Indeed it does! I just need my armour and I think I'm ready to go. What do you say, Doctor?'
'I will agree, if you will dress yourself without my help,' I tease, knowing that he will not be able to do that. The turian knows it too and he shakes his head with disappointment.
'I don't think I'll be able to persuade you otherwise, Doctor?' He asks, just a trace of hope in his voice, but I dismiss him with a wave of my hand.
'I want you back to your health as quickly as possible, Mr Vakarian, but it will either happen on my terms or…' I hesitate, because I do not really know if I can threaten him anything. Not that I really want to. Right now all I really, really want is a sandwich. 'Or I will be a really sad person.'
'That's not going to happen.'
'I hoped you would say that, actually. Let me help you with these and I will go and find out what has happened to your armour. As I recall, it was pretty badly damaged, but maybe the ship's technicians were able to salvage at least some parts.'
As I thought, putting the sleeve back on the injured arm was difficult even with my aid. It took us another ten or so minutes, allowing Doctor Chakwas to come back from her meal break and chide me away to the mess room to "finally take care of myself". I eat my meal slowly, enjoying every bite and listening to the news Mess Sergeant Gardner is more than eager to share with me. I start to have an impression he is an incredible gossip.
'Get this – right after you guys boarded the Normandy with that turian, there's a guy reporting at the airlock, claiming he was recruited by Shepard just a few hours before. So that EDI computer ran a check on him and it turned out he's on the Illusive Man's dossiers, one Zaeed Massani, a merc. Girl, you should watch yourself around this one, he's one hell of a killer, all right, and that face… I ain't going to bed without my knife under my pillow, see…' He shows me his "kitchen utensil", as he calls it; a fearsome, three inch wide blade with a cogged edge. My brain starts showing me all possible damage a weapon like this could make to a human tissue and I push this thought away immediately. Sometimes my too vivid imagination can interfere with my meal.
'And Shepard let him in, knowing he is essentially a gun for hire?' I muse out loud and Gardner snorts, apparently displeased with my ignorance.
'Ain't that exactly a thing the Commander wants him for? The guy knows his way around guns and that's what counts on this mission, girl.' He puts another portion on my plate and I begin to wonder, if I can consume this all without exploding. 'That turian guy you have in your bay, he's just the same, ain't he? I heard he shot half of the Blood Pack before they got him nailed down in that warehouse. Tough son of a bitch, if you pardon me saying. Not just any guy could survive that hit he got in his face, I'd give him that.'
'Yes, it was pretty bad, but he is not "just any guy", Mr Gardner. His name is Garrus Vakarian and he was helping Shepard to save the Citadel from the Sovereign's attack two years ago,' I correct him and wave my fork in the air before Gardner has a chance to make me happier with a second vat grown burger. 'I wonder if his armour is going to be useful for anything, it looked really damaged back on Omega.'
'You don't worry about that, Doc, those tech geeks downstairs in the cargo put their hands on it all right. It might not be as good as new, but it's definitely going to close to that when they're done with it. Have another drink, girl.'
'I think I am full now, thank you, but I would not dismiss one for the road,' I say and Mess Sergeant puts a huge cup in my hands. 'I think I should take a stroll around the ship, I could use an exercise. Thank you.'
With a vitamin cocktail in one hand, I take the elevator down to the cargo bay. I notice one shuttle is missing and when I inquire the technicians about that, I learn that Shepard went back to Omega station to find and bring on board the salarian scientist. About time, I think, but I keep it to myself. One of the technicians, Alexia, shows me around their small lab and presents me with Garrus' armour – or what is left of it. I am in no way an expert, but it looks like a big chunk of the upper part has been bitten off and then fried for a while. I wonder what the turian will say about it, but the technician ensures me all electronics will be fully functional. She talks about it for a while longer, but I am ashamed to admit – I do not understand a thing from it. I sip on my vitamins, nodding, until she realises I am in no condition to admire her knowledge and she nudges my shoulder in a very friendly way, directing me back to the shuttle bay.
I stay there for a while, because the rest of the technicians, a woman and two men, turn out to be as nice as they are talkative. I quickly learn their names and then for at least half an hour we discuss how each one of us has ended on the Normandy. I find out Alexia is a former Alliance employee, who has joined the crew, because she used to know Commander Shepard before he has finished his N7 training; Gabi and Donnelly have graduated together from the Academy and kept one another close ever since, while Laslo seems to have gotten the job because his whole family is working for the Illusive Man's cells all around the Council Space. I start telling them about Grissom Academy, when a bunch of lights flash on the nearby telecom console and Joker's voice informs us that "the shuttle is about to dock".
I decide to keep out of everyone's way, but before I reach the elevator, the shutter opens, letting in the slender vehicle. The elevator temporarily closed off for me because of the safety protocol, I watch the shuttle enter through the semi-transparent force field that keeps the environmental pressure. It lands, Shepard and his teammates stepping out from it. The salarian is with them – tall, like almost all salarians are, in a white-and-red outfit that makes me think about a lab coat. His demeanour is hardly one of a lab worker, to be honest, unless I would have to assume he is a very unlucky scientist. There are lines of scars on his face and part of his right cranial horn is missing. I start to suspect that his scientific input is not the only thing Commander wanted to hire him for.
'Doctor Johannsen!' Shepard has spotted me standing near the elevator and now he is waving at me, wide smile on his face. 'Good to see you! We're ready for the scan whenever you are.'
'I- oh…' Of course, that is what he should expect from a medical officer waiting for him in the cargo bay - a preliminary injury assessment and contamination scan. 'I- yes, of course, Commander…' For a moment I am not sure what am I supposed to do with the cup I am still holding in my hand, but I am saved by the "beep" of the elevator door behind me. I take a look around to see Doctor Chakwas stepping out of it, bag with medi-gels on her arm.
'There you are, Danielle,' she says, nodding in my direction. 'Our patient has been asking about you, impatient to find out what's going on with his armour…'
'Do you mean Garrus, Doctor?' Shepard is near us in a few steps, concern in his eyes. 'How is he doing? Has he woken up?'
'He has and he is fine, considering all he's been through,' Doctor Chakwas answers him patiently. 'Doctor Johannsen will be able to tell you more afterwards. Anyway, Commander, why would you use the shuttle when the Normandy is safely docked in the station?'
'Ah, I just thought I'd take it for a ride,' sparks of laughter flicker in Jake's eyes. 'You know, all this fantastic stuff Cerberus gave me, it's fun to test them out.'
'Apparently,' she shakes her head, not amused. 'Please note that the airlock on CIC deck has the scans built in and there is no need for neither me nor Danielle to get all the way down here, would you?' She walks by us, towards rest of the Shepard's crew. 'All right, everyone, please line up for the mandatory scan, it won't take long.'
To my surprise, the salarian tries to bypass her.
'No time for scans,' he says to the Commander. 'Need to analyse samples, find out how Collectors abduct humans. Which way to the lab?'
I am surprised at the speed he is talking with. I always knew salarian thought process was way faster than human and that their speech represented it, but this scientist sounds like he has a kettle of ideas boiling in his brain and ready to explode.
'All squad members are supposed to submit to the scans upon entering the ship, Professor Solus,' Shepard explains to him, but the salarian just shakes his head impatiently.
'Run the test myself already, see?' He turns his omnitool on and waves his hand in the air. 'There. Perfectly healthy specimen, nothing contagious. Would submit myself to quarantine, if otherwise.' He looks at Doctor Chakwas and smiles at her, his eyelids blinking upwards, in that alien way all salarians do. I cannot see the look she has on her face, but I imagine that she is somewhere between angry and impressed. At least I am. 'Can forward all relevant data to your omnitool, Doctor, further assessment unnecessary. Would like to see the lab. Lots of work. Delay… problematic.'
I can see Shepard is smiling, but he wipes the smirk off his face, when Doctor Chakwas turns towards us with doubt painted all over her face.
'Commander…'
'With all due respect, Doctor, I think this one time we can grant Professor Solus a free pass.'
She pulls a wry face, but says nothing and just shakes her head.
'It's your call, Commander. Everybody else, including yourself, please form a line?' It is supposed to sound like a question, but it is quite obvious to me this is more of an order. She is not going to let anyone else go without a scan.
'Immediately, Doctor! Professor Solus, the laboratory is upstairs on the CIC deck. This lady here is our Junior Medical Officer, Danielle Johannsen. Danielle, this is Doctor Mordin Solus. Would you be so kind to show the way?'
Me? I raise my eyebrows in surprise and nod quickly, even though I'm not convinced it is a good idea. The salarian looks at me, as if he has noticed me for the first time just now; his huge, dark eyes scan me up and down with interest. I feel strangely exposed, as if I was an exhibit A in a xenobiological museum.
'This way, please, Doctor,' I gesture towards the elevator before I realise I am still holding a cup with my vitamin cocktail in my hand. I quickly pull it back, trying to hide it behind my body. The salarian does not seem to notice.
Although, once the elevator door closes, he immediately turns back towards me.
'Interesting,' he says, flashing his omnitool back on. 'Extremely rare hair colouring for a human, no visible signs of dye, possible gene therapy, yes? No, unlikely. Exceptional genes.' He moves his hand in the air up and down, apparently running some sort of a scan on me. I hesitantly take a step backwards and realise the elevator is a really small space. 'Biotic abilities present, very specific implant in use, only seen a similar one once. Fascinating. Junior Medical Officer? Biotic used in medical practice, very clever, very… ingenious. Could have used an assistant like yourself on Omega.'
'Ah… I think I will pass… Doctor… or is it Professor? Shepard did not specify…?'
'Names, titles – irrelevant. Experience matters, knowledge, skills,' he says quickly, waving his hand in the air. 'Not concerned with titles. Like the way you say it, though. Only heard it once from a human before. Fascinating. Doc-tah…' The salarian pauses for a moment and a quick smile passes his elongated face. 'Could get used to it.'
I nod carefully. I am probably not making the best impression right now, but I really do not know what to say. I take another sip from my cup and unconsciously start to nibble on the straw. I stop the second I realise I am doing this, but it is already too late. The salarian is staring at me, curiosity mixed with doubt on his face. I utter a small cough and the elevator stops on the CIC deck.
'We are here, Doctor Solus,' I say, maybe just a tiny bit too cheerfully. 'The technical lab is on your right. I hope you will find it equipped adequately to your needs.' What I really hope is to get away from his awkward person as fast as I can and without losing any more dignity than I already have. It might even work out. Upon mentioning the lab, the salarian apparently loses all interest in me and heads towards the door, oblivious to people he passes by. I notice Kelly Chambers, Shepard's Yeoman, staring at him with her mouth slightly ajar until he disappears inside the laboratory. She turns towards me then.
'Was that…?'
'Mordin Solus, the salarian Shepard went to recruit,' I answer, trying to sound cheerful. 'A charming person. I think you should get to know him better.'
I am probably being mean right now, but I know Kelly is going to attempt that, with or without a suggestion from me. She is really a wonderful person and a great psychiatrist, but her enthusiasm can be misplaced sometimes. Right now I would prefer it to be directed at the salarian rather than at me.
'Oh, I most definitely will!' She exclaims, broad smile at her face. 'How are you doing, Danielle? You have done an amazing thing, Shepard told me! That turian, Garrus, he owns you his life, is it right?'
'I guess you could say that,' I try carefully and see her grin grow even wider.
'It's good we have you with us, Danielle! I talked with him a while ago, he seems like such a sweet person, you know? Sweet… and so very, very sad. He makes me want to hug him and keep hugging him until he knows it's going to be all right.'
I am not sure what to answer to that. Granted, Kelly has already told me she "loves everyone, every person and every race in the Galaxy", but this is something new. I take a moment to sip on my vitamins.
'I think that would be like hugging a pineapple,' I say finally and that makes her snort with laughter. 'I should go and check up on him, actually. It was nice chatting with you.'
I take the elevator back down and I leave the emptied cup with Gardner in the mess. The windows to the med bay are still obscured, so I cannot see what is going on inside, but I do not think Doctor Chakwas is back yet. I open the door and catch up the end of the conversation.
'…they're all dead because of me, Shepard.'
I freeze halfway in and look in the blue eyes of Jake Shepard, who is standing a few feet from the door. Garrus is sitting on his bed, his arms sloped, his head hung low, but now that he notices me he looks up and straightens his back. I am not sure what I can see in his expression except for pain. Lots of pain.
'I- I am sorry, Commander,' I gasp, taking a step back. 'I have interrupted. I will wait outside.'
I shut the door behind me and stand there for a long moment, staring at their smooth, cold, metallic surface, my eyes suddenly starting to sting. I rub them with the back of my hand.
I do not know about Kelly, but I am sure one hug is not going to make much difference for this certain turian.
