Roarkshop here: Couldn't leave you for a whole week on a cliffhanger! That would be mean. In all reality my family is coming into town sunday so I don't think I'm going to be able to update next week, so instead of making you wait two weeks, like a bitch, I'll just give you next weeks update now! However because of the time constraints I probably won't be able to put a chapter up next week, so I hope you all understand and i'm sorry you will have to wait so long for the next chapter.
Hopefully this chapter will sate your appetites until I return! I hope you all like it and I'm very excited to hear what you all think of this chapter!
Thank you, again, for the feeback and praise so far, it really means the world to me, and fuels me to keep these chapters going!
Also a special thanks to the best damn Beta Reader in the world! She keeps me inspired and keeps me writing. I luff her.
Enjoy!
"Jane, No!"
Garrus never moved so fast in his life. He sprang from the floor and tackled her. The bullet grazed his shoulder as her hand flew to the side. He pinned her wrists above her head and twisted the gun out of her hand, sliding it to the side so it hit the wall beside him. Before he could regain his grip she had wriggled out from underneath him, pushing her feet on his chest and heaving, launching him off her and to the side. He rolled off his back and got to his knees, but she was fast and already on her feet. Her foot came around and smashed into the side of his face. His visor fell, in pieces, to the floor.
He started growling.
She came around for another kick but he grabbed her ankle and pulled her to him. She fell onto the flat of her back and he gripped her hard on the shoulders before standing them both up. He shook her, trying to bring her back to reality.
"Shepard, snap out of it," he tried, but she just roared and wound her fist back. He caught the punch in his hand and moved it to grip her by the wrist, doing the same with his other hand. He held on as tight as he could, but she was strong. The restraint on her wrists enraged her, furious tears streaking down her cheeks. She fought, white-hot rage in her face. She was getting harder to keep restrained, fueled by her anger, her madness. She was lethal, vicious.
She was chaos personified.
She brought her wrist to her face and bit into the hand restraining it, and he roared with the pain. Her teeth sank into the plate-less skin on his wrist, harder than he ever imagined a human being able to, with their white, flat teeth. Blood leaked out of the wound and trickled down his wrist and down her chin.
"Damn it, Shepard," he cursed, trying to figure out how in the hell he was supposed to help her without hurting her further. Her blood wasn't helping. Her wrists were slick with it under his hands. It had been years since he had smelled the scent of her blood, and it awoke something in him. His instincts were fighting to get out of him, and the internal battle was turning out to be just as hard as the physical one he was engulfed in. The combination of the scent, the burning fury in her face, and his instinctual need to help her, was slowly overtaking his self restraint.
He released her wrists only to wrap her in his massive arms, joining his own hands behind her back and effectively pinning her arms to her sides. Her shoulders heaved to escape but he was larger and much more powerful. Still she fought. Still she refused to give in. She punched her toes into the ground and pushed him against the wall behind him, slamming his back into it. He grunted with the impact and had to bite down his instincts to dominate her again. This wasn't a threat. He was supposed to be helping her, damn it.
He lowered his face to hers, as close as he could without breaking her eye contact.
"Shepard," he said, searching her wild eyes, trying to sound as calm as he could. "It's me, it's Garrus, Shepard."
Her struggles instantly slowed, and he saw her eyes finally focusing on his face. Her shoulders still pulled against him, idly, like it was a reflex. But he heard her heartbeat responding, saw the recognition dawn in her eyes. He couldn't help but smile as he realized that she was reacting to him. Because it was him.
Garrus released one of his arms so that he could hold the side of her head, and lowered his face to nuzzle the side of hers affectionately, trying to let her know he wasn't trying to hurt her.
"Come back to me, Jane," he pleaded softly.
He felt a shudder sweep through her as her anger eased away, and the furious cries melted into forlorn, mournful, sobs. She crumbled under the force of her sadness, and he caught her as she fell, landing hard on his knees. He winced.
Pulling her into him, he came off his knees to sit against the wall behind him, holding her there against his chest as she cried. He spared a moment to curse himself for helping drive her to this point.
"I wish they'd have left me dead," she sobbed, her hands clinging desperately to his shirt. Spirits, she was in so much pain. She had fallen so far. And he could have stopped it. Stupid, stupid turian.
"Please," he said, running a hand over the back of her head. "Please don't say that." His heart broke for her. He had never seen her cry before, not in person, but he decided then that he hated it and, if he could help it, he would make sure it never happened again.
Her shivering finally slowed as she settled against him, and her shoulders had stopped heaving. She had to be exhausted. The lack of sleep, the terrible mission they were just on, the physical strain she had just put herself through, everything Kaidan had said to her. Even someone like Shepard, the pinnacle of strength, had a breaking point.
He rested the side of his face on the top of her head, stroking her hair with the hand that wasn't used for support. Through her chest against his, he felt her heartbeat slowing and heard her breathing become steady and even as she started drifting. The shaking of her shoulders stopped, and she nuzzled her face against his chest like a child. He wasn't quite sure when she had fallen asleep, but he would stay down there all night if he had to in order to not wake her. He had failed her up until this point, he wasn't going to let her down, not now when she needed him the most.
As long as she would sleep, he was perfectly content to sit there and hold her.
"EDI," said a confused doctor standing in the empty captain's quarters. "Where is the Commander?"
"Commander Shepard and Garrus Vakarian have been asleep in the cargo hold since 2300 last night."
She was stunned. She didn't really know how to react. On the one hand she was ecstatic to hear "Commander Shepard" and "asleep" in the same sentence. But in the cargo hold? With Garrus?
"Are they," Chakwas cleared her throat. "Decent?"
"My moral code is not like that of an organic, Doctor Chakwas, whether or not they are decent is for you to decide."
"No, EDI," she said. "I mean are they clothed."
"Yes."
"Very good then."
"Logging you out, Doctor."
She tapped her foot anxiously as she rode the elevator down to the bottom floor. She didn't know what kind of scene to expect when she entered the cargo hold, nor did she anticipate the level of relief the sight would bring her.
Garrus was holding her in his arms, both of them asleep. His head was resting on the top of hers, and her head was resting against his chest. She was cradled in the crook of his arm, supported with his raised knee behind her. Her bloodied hands were across her chest. She noted the shattered mirror on the other side of the room, and blood trail in between. Shepard must have finally snapped. She wasn't exactly surprised, she knew this had been coming. Suddenly, she was very grateful for Garrus' presence.
The doors hadn't been loud by any means, but Garrus was a predator, and so the whoosh they made was plenty loud to make him stir. He blinked sleepily as he focused on her approaching them. He pressed a finger to his lips, gesturing to her for quiet, and Chakwas nodded, tip-toeing over to the pair. Garrus laughed at the spectacle she was, no doubt, making of herself. But she didn't care. She was thrilled to see Shepard so soundly asleep.
Chakwas noted the blue on the Commanders lips and pointed to them, looking to Garrus for an answer. He raised his free arm and turned his wrist, revealing the two puncture marks where her canines had pierced his skin. Shepard had bitten him?
She put two fingers on either side of Shepard's throat to check for an allergic reaction, but there was none. Her throat hadn't closed, her lymph-nodes weren't swollen, nothing. Curious. Even if she had managed not to ingest his blood, just the contact on her tongue should have resulted in some sort of reaction. But now wasn't the time to worry about that, she had to treat the Commanders wounds. She hadn't brought supplies so she pointed at the sleeping woman and then up, trying to tell Garrus to bring her to her chambers. But he shook his head, his mandibles clicking curiously, obviously not understanding. The doctor flailed her arms and over-exaggerated her mouth movements to try and get the message across, but she didn't imagine turians were very good at reading human lips. Garrus bit down a laugh, and pointed to his ear with a free hand.
Chakwas suddenly felt rather foolish knowing that she could have been whispering and he would hear her perfectly well.
"Shouldn't you bring her to her room?" she said.
He looked down at the sleeping Commander, contemplating. His brow plates raised, softening his features. He looked back at the doctor and shook his head in reply, not willing to risk his own rumbling voice waking her without the superior hearing of another turian.
"I don't want her to wake up either," she said. "But I have to treat her hands. And you can't sit down here all day. It's almost 0700, you know." He straightened up a little as he realized how long he had been down there. He exhaled through his nose and nodded. The doctor helped him slowly lift her as he got to his feet. They stopped on the crew deck to get her supplies, then took the elevator up to her quarters. Shepard didn't stir once.
Garrus put her in bed as gently as he could, freezing in his tracks any time Shepard moved in her sleep. It was endearing to watch the care he took not to wake her. He pulled the blanket up to her waist and spared a moment to tuck the hair in her face behind her ear, and running his finger along her jaw, before moving away to let the doctor work.
Chakwas suddenly became very aware of something. Something she was absolutely certain the other two people in the room were completely unaware of. She smiled. They would figure it out eventually.
She very carefully washed Shepard's hands with a warm, damp, cloth. Cleaning away the dried blood and pieces of glass, then wrapping them in medi-gel gauze up to her wrists. When she turned to leave, she saw Garrus looking at something on her private terminal, the desk under his hands shook with the pressure he put on it. As she came to his side, she saw what he had been looking at. The Commander had obviously pulled up footage of her own funeral, the image of Garrus, one hand on her coffin, one hand over his face, was frozen on the screen. He turned around hurriedly and got back into the elevator.
"It wasn't Horizon," he huffed angrily as the elevator doors closed. "It wasn't what Kaidan had said to her. It was me. I drove her to that. I pushed her over the edge." His mandibles fluttered and he put a hand over his eyes to try and fight the obvious fury building in him.
"Garrus," she said. "You can't blame yourself for the way-"
"With all do respect, Doc," he snapped. "Don't tell me what I can, and cannot, blame myself for. You weren't there. You didn't see it. You didn't see her break. You didn't see the madness in her face. You didn't hear the desperation in her voice. You didn't see her throwing her fists into the glass of the mirror, shouting at someone who wasn't there." There was a long, painful pause before he spoke again, softer, more to himself than to the doctor. "You didn't see her press the barrel of a gun against her head in a last ditch effort to not become like Saren..." He bunched his hands into fists as the elevator doors opened. He nodded to her absently as a means of excusing himself as he tromped back to the battery. Any crew in the mess practically dove out of his way. They all knew better than to interfere with him when he was in a state.
Her heart went out to him. He couldn't have possibly understood what was going on in Shepard's head, or to what extent she had been suffering. He had no way of truly knowing. It wasn't his fault. She didn't blame him, and she knew Shepard wouldn't blame him either. She only wished that she knew how to get him to stop blaming himself.
"Stupid turian," he said to himself, ticking his talons on his console anxiously. What a fool he had been. What a hopeless idiot. He had driven his only friend into utter madness without even trying. Hell, he had been trying to help her the whole time and had only managed to make it all worse.
There was so much energy in him. Besides the fact that he hadn't gotten a full nights sleep in months, maybe years, he had so many emotions running through him. The blood rushed under his skin, his heart pounded in his chest, images of it all flashing across his mind. There was nothing he could do down here. Nothing that was going to take his mind off of it. Off of her.
The pure-red hate that had lit up her face, the carnal rage as she bit into his wrist, the desperate, determined sadness as she pressed the barrel of the gun against her head.
He slammed his fists into his console, and it screeched in protest.
She had almost done it. If he hadn't reacted he would be attending her funeral, again, instead of tending to a grazed shoulder. Leaning his elbows onto the console, he let his head fall into his hands. He had let her down again. The only person in the world, besides his sister, who meant anything to him, had almost killed herself to avoid becoming the one thing she was truly afraid of. All because he wasn't able to help her. All because he had been afraid to tell her how much their friendship still meant to him.
Before he knew it an hour had passed him by as he let his thoughts take over. He hurriedly grabbed what he came for and marched back to her quarters. There was no way in hell he was going to leave her side again, not after what he had just seen. As long as that darkness was in her face, he wouldn't take his eyes off her. He wasn't going to take the chance. Not ever again.
When he opened the door to her quarters, she wasn't where he had left her, in her bed. But there was a trail of shredded pieces of bandage leading back to the bathroom.
Stubborn human, he thought, biting down his smile.
Her scent was overpowering, like it usually was after she showered. The smell of steam gently wafted through the air. She came out of the bathroom in her black captain's casuals, drying her hair with a towel, only managing to catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye.
"WAGH-" She jumped, her towel still on her head. "Garrus! Jesus."
He laughed and looked at her sideways, the way he had always used to.
"Just like old times, Shepard."
"You know," she said lowering the towel to her shoulders, the ends of her hair dripping water onto her shirt. "Eventually I'm going to have to start assuming that you're doing it on purpose."
"Let me see your hands."
"Honestly, Garrus," she said. "I don't think you need to-"
"Hands, Shepard." He held his hands out expectantly, and she sighed, putting her hands in his. He looked them over, scrutinizing them. The doctor had done a good job, but they were still slashed all to hell, bruises all along the sides like spots. The cuts were freshly washed and he could smell the slight scent of the fresh blood that was coming to the surface. The scent made his talons itch, so he released her hands. "You really should have left those bandages on," he said. "You had them on for probably about twenty minutes."
"Ugh," she said, drying her hair more. "I couldn't do anything in them. I felt like I was wearing snow-mittens."
He smiled. The dark rings under her eyes had almost faded completely. The brightness had returned to her eyes, and even the scar over her eye had faded.
"How are you feeling?"
"Fantastic," she said, the sarcasm dripping off her words. "Nothing cures psychosis like getting into a fist fight with a mirror."
"Had I known that I would have made you do it sooner."
She laughed, the smile illuminating her eyes. The sight sent a wave of relief through his chest. If all it took to help her was eight hours of sleep and a good cry, he felt like a real idiot having stayed silent as long as he did. Maybe he could have avoided that whole scene altogether if he hadn't been so withdrawn.
She got uncomfortable as he seemed to study her face. "So uh, sorry about your visor," she said with an embarrassed laugh.
He waved a hand dismissively.
"Shepard, it's just a piece of equipment. I don't even care. I'm more worried about you. How are you really feeling?"
She tried to think of a clever way to dance around it again, but came up short and scoffed, tossing her towel to the side.
"I feel like an idiot," she said as she turned away, walking towards her bed.
"What? Why?"
"Because, Garrus. I just had a fist fight with a dead turian, almost killing you, and me, in the process. God..." she clenched her teeth and balled her hands into fists. "I hate myself for my weaknesses. It's unforgivable. I hate that I let you see me like that, so weak, so crazy. Ugh," she pushed her hair back over her head and held her hands there.
The anger crept up his chest, but he tried to keep it in check.
"Shepard," he said, as calmly as he could muster. "You came back from the dead. I'm surprised you didn't kill everyone on the ship!"
"I almost did a few times," she scoffed, looking back at him. The silence hung in the air, heavy and awkward.
"I'm sorry, Shepard," he said finally, looking at the empty fish tanks. Trying to hide how ashamed he was.
"You're sorry? What in the blue hell for?"
"I didn't see it," he snapped. "I didn't see how hard you were kicking yourself until it was too late. I didn't see how much pain you were in. How much you just needed for us to be okay again. How much worse I was making it by treating you so coldly. I was trying to figure out how to help you and I just ended up letting you down again."
"Don't be ridiculous," she said, waving a hand and cocking out a hip. She sighed and the sadness quickly filled her face as she looked at the floor. "I can't blame you for treating me cold, Garrus. You dealt with my death, then had to deal with me coming back as some sort of abomination. I wouldn't have trusted me eith-"
"Would you stop with that?" he barked, clenching his fists. "Stop calling yourself those things. Monster, machine, zombie, all of it. None of them are true and I'm sick of it. You're just as human as you've ever been, Shepard."
"Oh yeah?" She crossed her arms defensively. Her brow set as she fought her own battle with her anger. "Garrus the most cybernetics you have are on one side of your face! I was rebuilt. Built. Like a machine! What the hell do you know?"
"What the hell do I know?" He raged as he approached, pointing at her. "Listen to me, you...you...infuriating human. I know it's you. My senses can pick up even the tiniest difference in you. I knew you were coming for me before I even laid eyes on you on Omega because I could smell your scent, not a human scent, yours specifically. Your blood smells the same way, not a humans blood, yours, Shepard. You carry yourself the same way, you command respect the same way, your eyes have that same calculating confidence in them, you keep that same maddening smirk on your lips all the damn time, you talk the exact same way, make all the same moves, and do all the same things." He exhaled angrily and put a hand on the back of his neck to distract himself. The combination of the scent of her blood and her indignation was making his anger take hold of him, but he kept fighting. A low growl rumbled through his chest. "Did you think I was so easily swayed? Did you think I could be fooled by a... a... Saren clone in a Shepard costume?" He pointed at her again, accusingly. "You think you're not you? You want me to believe it so bad? Then prove it to me, Shepard," he said, digging into the big pocket on the leg of his pants and taking something out. "If you want me to believe you're a different person than you better make damn well sure you don't react to this." He almost slammed the book into her hands and her eyes widened as she realized what it was.
Pride and Prejudice, by Jane Austin.
Her heart skipped, and he knew he had made his point.
"You kept it," she whispered.
"Of course, I kept it, Shepard," he snapped. "It was all I had left of you."
She looked up at him, stunned. The glaze of tears filled her eyes.
He couldn't fight his urge to close the distance between them anymore. He reached out and grabbed her, hard, by the shoulders. Much harder than he had meant to. He pulled her to him so their faces were inches apart and leaned, forcing her to bend back. His furious eyes searched hers and he felt her pulse quicken. "And if all of those reasons aren't good enough. If all of that means nothing to you, then forget about it and just make it this: My instincts know it's you. They scream it. I feel it in every part of me when I look at you. When I woke up in that Med Bay, and you were screaming, my body only reacted the way it did because it was you. If you were anyone else I wouldn't have even woken up and I certainly wouldn't have gone into an instinct driven rampage. But it was you. And you were screaming, and frightened, and I couldn't stand it, Shepard." Her eyebrows upturned and he felt a shiver go through her, felt the tension building in her shoulders under his hands. "If anyone else had gone down there to help you last night we'd be cleaning them of the cargo bay window right now. But after all of this, after everything you've been through, it's your faith in me that remains unshakable. I know it's you, Shepard. And you can trust me when I say it because I have never, ever, lied to you."
He sketched her face with his eyes waiting for her to answer, but she didn't. All he received in reply was stunned silence, and a few tears she couldn't fight streaking down her cheeks. His fury instantly started melting away as he released her shoulder to wipe a tear from her cheek with his thumb.
"Please don't cry," he said. "I can't stand to see you cry anymore."
As was the eternal symbol of their friendship, her forehead fell onto his chest and she moved into his arms. He smiled and held her gladly, nuzzling the top of her head, letting her scent surround him.
"Spirits, I've missed you."
"Christ. I thought for sure that you hated me. I've been so terrified, Garrus. So tired."
"It's alright," he said, stroking her hair. "Everything's gonna be okay now."
"How can you say that?" she said, pulling away only enough to look down at her feet, shaking her head, ashamed. "Everything's so different now. Everything has changed."
"Not everything," he said, lifting her chin in his hand so he could look at her. "Not how I feel about you, Jane. Never how I feel about you."