~Garrus~

Garrus is woken abruptly that night by the sounds of Jane screaming. Rushing into the bedroom, he finds her sitting up with eyes wide and lost, and shrieking words that his translator can't decipher as she holds her head in her small heads. Tears stream down her pale face as he rushes to her.

He knows that touching her can result in him getting hurt, but he can't stand to see her in such pain. With no other option other than he wants it to stop, he grabs her hands as they fist at her hair.

Her whole body is tense and although her shrieks have lessened to sobbing and incoherent sentences, she fights him as he pulls her fingers from her red strains. His hands completely envelope hers but he can still feel the power and strength in her arms. As he pulls, he moves to sit on the edge of the bed to place his eyes level with hers.

"Jane," he pleads, his icy blue eyes seeking out her emerald ones, and he feels a heat emanating from their clasped hands. A blue energy surrounds her hands and, because he is holding her, his and a sharp pain surges through his veins but he doesn't release her. He never would have guessed she was a biotic, but then again, they never spoke of what they actually did as soldiers.

Gritting his teeth against the pain, he tries again to bring Jane back. "Jane, you need to wake up. It's over, it's all over." He has no idea what she is reliving in her mind but soon her eyes begin to focus and he continues, hoping he can pull her the rest of the way out of her mind. He can't stop the comforting purr that echoes with his words and he isn't ashamed should she notice it for the worried offer of security that it is. "You're safe, Jane. I'm here." It's out before he can catch the slip, but for some reason, it feels right.

Her focus returns completely as the blue aura fades and her eyes search his, flashing over his face, searching. "Did I wake up you, again?" she asks with a weak smile that hurts Garrus more than the sight of her screaming in bed.

Relaxing a bit into his seated position he releases her hands slowly and rubs at his wrists and the residual sting in them, sighing with a nod. "You barely even got an hour this time."

She notices him rubbing and holds her hand out in a silent offer, which he accepts by holding out his own. She takes his hands and begins to rub the joints, not deterred by his ungloved talons. Usually when they are around each other, he doesn't take off his gloves out of courtesy.

He was taught as a child, like all Turians, that it was considered rude to walk around with your talons out. It was a throw back to when they were less evolved as a cultural people, but the idea still persisted. It was made worse when other races came into the picture because they often saw talons as weapons and insisted unnecessary precaution be taken to conceal them, even with close friends and family or at home.

When Jane would run her little fingers between the plates though, she didn't show any of the usual hesitation, just idle curiosity as she ran over the differences from her own hands. He knew what she was doing though and refused to accept her avoidance of the problem at hand. "Jane," he leaned his head to try and catch her eyes, "we need to talk about this. You need to talk to someone about these dreams before something bad happens."

She sighs, "I can't, Garrus. I know you want to help and I know I keep waking you up." She looks out across the room and away from him. "I can find a hotel so that you can get some more sleep. It's not right that I make your nights hell when you have such long days at C-Sec."

He shakes his head and removes his hands from hers, which brings her attention back to his face. "And have you alone and having nightmares? Not a chance. You're staying here." He looks to her with sadness, silently pleading for her to talk to him, and sees her stifle a yawn.

He isn't surprised to see the movement, she hasn't been sleeping well since she arrived on the Citadel over two weeks ago, and he internally admits that the same goes for him. He is tired from his long days of patrolling and training, and his nights of waking to Jane's screams.

He wishes he could figure out the things to say to get her to open up and let down the wall that's holding in whatever it is that haunts her in her sleep, but having deep, meaningful conversations was never his strong suit. He was better at talking with his actions and words often seemed to fail him, but in this situation he couldn't even come up with something to show her that he was there for her.

That combined with the fact that he was too exhausted to try and outlast her on her stubborn decision, he concedes with a dejected sigh. "You should try to get back to sleep. You've been running on fumes since you got leave. I'll be in the other room if you need me."

He starts to stand when her hand shoots out and grabs his own. "Wait, please," she pleads with a sadness on her eyes he'd never have imagined could exist in them. "Can you please sit here until I fall asleep?" She smiles weakly as he sits back down, hid hand still in hers. "I always seem to fall asleep easier when we are on the couch watching television."

He nods quietly because he doesn't know how to respond, his mind blank from her admission and request. She lays back and he shifts as she continues to hold his hand, pulling it down with her as she settles. He sifts so that his arms isn't bent into an uncomfortable position and it brings him into a sitting position that has him next to and able to turn his head to look down at her.

She runs her fingers over the plates of his hand and messages the soreness in his joints and flesh from her biotics. She studies him and a small smile forms on her lips. The pain is mostly gone but seeing her so seemingly peaceful, he can't move himself to remove his hand from her grasp.

"I've never seen you without gloves before," she says in a whisper a short time later. Her breathing has slowed and he can hear her heart slowing into its restful pace. "You should take them off more often. They're cool." He chuckles at that admission, not too many outside of his race would agree with her on either point.

"Maybe I should," he agrees as her eyes drift closed and her quizzical fingers slow and stop. He waits a while longer before getting up and moving back into the living room to get some sleep of his own.