For some reason names keep disappearing when I upload new chapters. It seems this site really has it in for poor Chakwas and Mordin, who always seem to get their names deleted. Hopefully I caught and re-named everyone this time around~and many thanks to Blausen for catching the blank spots last chapter! :)
Dr. Chakwas looked up from her console when Shepard marched wearily back into the med bay. "Apparently Garrus is now living in my quarters," she muttered, surprising herself with the sharpness of her own voice.
"I thought he might," a slight frown crinkled the doctor's forehead, "he relies on you a great deal commander, for both emotional stability, and for a sense of normalcy. He views you as safe, as a protector."
"Ha!" Shepard barked a harsh laugh, settling her hip against a counter, "I'm doing such a great job on that so far." Her voice softens as she rubs a hand across her forehead, "I'm going to fuck this up Karin. I shoot things, its what I do, its what Cerberus dragged me back to do. I don't even know what I'm doing..."
"Cerberus did not simply drag you back to 'shoot things', had they only wanted a trigger finger, they wouldn't have spent so much time making sure you had a mind." Shepard blinked as Chakwas bent to dig through a desk drawer, unable to find a way around that reasoning. "And I did warn you initially that I was unsure the Normandy was a good place for Garrus. But you insisted, and at this point relocating him to a treatment facility would be downright cruel."
"I wouldn't do that!" Chakwas raised an elegant eyebrow at Shepard's vehemence, "that's not what I meant...I just.. I'm just not sure what I can give him. If he needed a sniper mod, or new armor it wouldn't be a problem, but this..."
"Give him yourself commander, that's all he's looking for," the doctor pulled a bottle and a pair of slightly dusty glasses from her desk. "Garrus is remarkably resilient, he'll find his way back to you commander, you just have to be there when he does."
Accepting a glass of brandy, Shepard remembers the dead look in Garrus' eyes as he knelt in the blood of the friends Garm had forced him to murder, wonders at what point resilience breaks, and the alcohol burns bitter on her tongue.
Chakwas shifts, and Shepard can see she wants to say something. "Commander, if I might," she begins, waiting for Shepard to wave her glass in a gesture to continue. "Do you remember what you told Pressly when he complained about the inclusion of Garrus, Tali, and Wrex on the crew of the original Normandy?" Taking a sip of brandy, Chakwas continued , "you told him to give them a chance. That you were sure they would prove themselves."
"What does this have to do with anything?"
"Your crew Shepard, when do they get the chance to prove themselves?" Chakwas' voice is surprisingly gentle, but Shepard can hear the subtle reprimand.
"My 'crew' is made up of assigned Cerberus operatives," Shepard snaps, "surely you remember some of the sick experiments they did. Its not the same as with Pressly...he didn't trust the non-human crew, he never wanted to experiment on them and/or exterminate their race. "
"Nobody on this crew has had anything to do with the more extreme facets of Cerberus, Shepard. And really, is this really any different than when Pressly insisted that Garrus couldn't be trusted, simply because he had fought the turians during the first contact war?"
The calm reasoning pierces through the haze of frustration and anxiety, and Shepard feels the fight start to drain out of her like a slow bleed, she blinks slowly at her half empty glass, "I'm not even sure where to start with them...I mean, you, you I trust, but the rest of them..."
"Start at the beginning commander, start with giving them a chance to prove themselves," pressing the stopper into the top of the bottle, Chakwas returns it to the drawer. "At the risk of being presumptuous, you might want to start with Miss Chambers. You were...rather harsh with her earlier," Chakwas eyes Shepard with the careful consideration of someone about to poke a bear with a stick, "in all honesty, I don't think she meant any harm. It wasn't her fault she entered into the situation completely ignorant of what to expect."
The censure in Chakwas' voice makes Shepard flinch, "well I wasn't about to explain to her why Garrus was here, I don't care what her position is, that's a breach of trust I'm not willing to take."
"I wasn't suggesting it," a slight smile crosses Chakwas' face, "but I am suggesting that when you give blank orders, don't be surprised when people display the free thought and curiosity to explore the reasoning behind them. Besides," Chakwas added, "I was actually pleasantly surprised by how well Garrus responded to her to start with."
"Seriously," Shepard gestured around the med bay, "this is 'responding well'?"
"He didn't back down from her, I think to start with he was just a bit confused as to why she was talking to him. Everything was a bit one-sided, but amicable enough until she touched him. And even then, he was more scared of his own reaction than he was of Kelly"
"She still shouldn't have been here! " Shepard shook her head, "are orders that difficult to comprehend? I mean, really?"
"I've worked with Kelly for months commander, she is very hands on...but she is dedicated to patient care. She meant well...and it started promisingly, all I know is that after a few minutes she did reach out to touch him and he lashed out at her, then panicked." Gesturing around at the field of debris, Chakwas shrugged, "the rest is... very destructive history."
Draining the last of the brandy, Shepard set her glass down with a sharp click. "I'll talk to her, but I hope you'll forgive me if I decide to sleep on it first." Scrubbing a hand through her hair, Shepard shook her head, "I really, really need a long, quiet shower and some rack time."
"Agreed," Chakwas nodded genially, "just keep it in mind commander. Now if you can wait a moment, I'll send some things with you for Garrus."
The room was awash in an odd, tinted, ambient light. There was no music, but an odd cacophony of sounds issued from hidden speakers around the room. The hum of air cars, the heavier growl of larger loaders, Shepard could hear the chime of street carts, all overlaid with a chatter of language she didn't recognize. Garrus was sprawled out on the couch, as relaxed as Shepard had seen him since she had brought him to the Normandy, head tilted up into the slightly hazy light, eyes closed.
Shepard almost felt like an intruder in her own quarters, yet couldn't help but regret her intrusion when EDI softened the light to its usual setting, and the odd white noise of street sounds faded into silence. "What was that?" Shepard questioned, watching Garrus struggle to lever himself upright on one stick-like arm.
"That was an atmospheric and auditory playback of Ardran memorial park, Cipritine, Palaven, recorded approximately fifteen hours ago." It was hard to tell, but Shepard sensed a slight edge of smugness in the AI's voice before its holographic image blinked off.
"Do you miss it?" Shepard eased the bag of medical supplies Chakwas had loaded her with, onto the low table, extracting the rolled heating blanket and tossing it onto the couch.
"Sometimes," Garrus snagged the blanket almost the second Shepard had put it down, "I haven't been there in a long time...but sometimes..I miss the light...the warmth."
" This mission is critical, but if you wanted, we could swing by for a short visit?"
"NO!" Garrus blurted, shaking his head so vehemently that he raised a hand to the bandage grafts on his face and throat, "...ow."
"Ok, ok, " raising her hands in defeat, Shepard retrieved a bottle of pills from the table and shook two into her palm, " Chakwas wants you taking these every four hours, and apparently I'm supposed to change the bandaging on your face tomorrow." Holding her hand out with the pills, Shepard waited patiently as Garrus fidgeted, eyes flicking from her hand to her face, until finally he extended a shaky, tentative hand far enough for her to tip the medication into his grasp. "There's water here as well," digging out a tube of purified water, Shepard set it down on the table. "I'm in serious need of a shower, just give me a yell if you need anything."
It always astounded Shepard just how standing under falling water could improve ones outlook on a day. By the time the water had run to tepid, and the small stall was so filled with steam it was like breathing smoke, Shepard felt better than she had in days. Garrus was already asleep when she padded out into the main room, curled up as best he could on the couch, forearms over his face, completely wrapped in the heated blanket, with the exception of one protruding foot.
"Maybe this was a good idea, after all," Shepard sat down cautiously on the arm of the couch, voice almost as soft as the ever present hum of the ship's engines. "God, Garrus...I have no idea if I'm doing the right thing here, or if I'm just being selfish...Just another person taking control away from you, but I'm not willing to give up...I just wish I knew if I was helping you or not." When the oblivious turian didn't even twitch, Shepard very lightly tickled the exposed hide of his protruding foot, smiling when he unconsciously curled his toes, and the foot disappeared into the blanket cocoon.
The coolness of the sheets against her skin dragged Shepard down into sleep faster than she had expected, though she floated in a half drowse for a while, lulled by the hum of Normandy's white noise, and the soft rasp of Garrus' breathing. The reflected light from the aquariums bathed the room in a haze of blue, and when the first ragged scream jolted her awake, for a moment her sleep fogged mind could only see the pale ultramarine arc of Alchera, and her chest seized, lungs spasming desperately for oxygen. Then Garrus screamed again, a ragged, gut wrenching keen of fear and pain, and the room was just a room again, the icy glare of the planet fading into the familiar. Startled heart slamming in her chest with a surge of adrenaline Shepard lunged up, hand fumbling for the light panel.
Garrus is sitting upright, blanket pooled around his waist, eyes wild and fixed on something only he can see. Shepard bangs her shin sharply on the low table as she runs to him, swearing at the sting as she hops the last few steps. As she reaches him, Garrus brings his arms up to protect his head, wailing "don't, please don't!" until he trails off into a shriek that makes Shepard's stomach clench. She remembers Decker, leering as he admitted 'never heard anyone scream like he did when we cut him,' and wants to be sick.
Talking to him yields no response, and as Garrus makes a horrible guttural noise in his throat, entire body wracked with muscle tremors, Shepard resorts to grabbing him, shaking roughly until he wakes up with a shivering gasp. His eyes track wildly around the room for a second, fixing on Shepard with a kind of desperation, "S...Shepard?" he half whimpers, "I...I.. t..thought..."
"You're OK, that's all over," Shepard gently touches the back of her hand to his cheek, glad when he doesn't shy away, but almost immediately presses into her touch. Shepard was sure turians couldn't cry as humans and asari could, but the shuddering gasp Garrus takes, as a choked vibrato tone issues from his throat is immediately, universally recognizable.
"I'm s...sorry, I wanted...wanted to f..fight...but... ...they made me," Garrus scrapes his clipped talons against the hide of his hands, eyes terribly clear as he gasps out, "so m...much blood Shepard...there wa..was so much blood."
" Aww fuck, Garrus...," Shepard feels horribly helpless, as Garrus folds his arms against his chest, hunching forward as that awful gasping keen shakes his thin body. "I wish I could fix this," Shepard blinks away the sharp sting of tears in her eyes, "goddammit."
Garrus shifts slightly, and to Shepard's shock, leans forward slowly, until his head rests lightly against her shoulder, hitching breath hot against the skin of her neck. For a moment Shepard freezes, then tentatively shifts the hand on his cheek until she is cupping the back of his neck, gently smoothing her fingers over the soft hide and protruding spinal guard plates. Garrus' dual toned cries pierce through Shepard's head in a way that almost hurts. Tentatively she reaches up with her other arm, cradling him lightly as he keens out his grief into her shoulder.
"Shhh, shhhh," Shepard tries to soothe Garrus with soft wordless croons of comfort, rocking him slightly. Not for the first time she wishes for five minutes alone with Garm, Kuril, Decker, and any of the host of faceless mercs who viewed the breaking of a bright, young mind and spirit as some kind of sport.
Eventually, after what feels like hours, Garrus' gasping cries ease. Exhausted he slumps against Shepard in a tangle of warm, bony limbs, head still resting against her shoulder. Shifting carefully into a more comfortable position, Shepard strokes a hand softly over Garrus' mutilated fringe, relishing the feel of his rapid pulse against her shoulder, his calmed breath huffing lightly against her ear.
Resting her head wearily against the back of the couch, Shepard slips into a hazy, half dose. Garrus jerks into a half waking nightmare several times, but relaxes almost immediately as Shepard hushes him gently. By the time Shepard's omni-tool hums a silent alarm against her arm, her eyes feel like they are full of sand, her limbs heavy and tired as she drags her armor on over the durable under weave. Garrus wakes when she stomps one foot to settle her heavy boot more comfortably. He blinks hazily up at her, and wordlessly gulps the pills she hands him, before curling up again, blue eyes sliding shut as Shepard clips her weapons into their carry frames.
As the shuttle drops away from the Normandy, Shepard ignores Miranda's frown of disapproval as she keys in an omni-tool request for her hardsuit to dispense a dose of stims. Leaning against the cool metal of the shuttle's hull, Shepard grimaces at the slight burn, as the stim dose flickers through her nervous system, and hopes the mission will be a short one.