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“I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”
Garrus Vakarian had heard rumors over the years that humans were a stubborn species by nature. He had even experienced some of it first hand while working for C-Sec. But before meeting Commander Shepard, he had not fully understood what that word meant. It had taken months of service with her, years of reflecting back over such times, and then more months of working together side by side again, but he’d finally ‘gotten it,’ as the humans liked to say.
“Shepard, you and I both know if we’re going to win this thing, you need to be at your best. To be at your best, you need rest.” Thankfully, Primarch Victus had made it out the door to the War Room before Shepard had begun protesting this time. The only others listening in on their conversation were the few crewmen on duty, all of whom, a quick glance informed him, were nodding their agreement with his assessment of the situation. “I’ll keep Joker from launching any suicide missions.”
He heard her soft snort, saw her shoulders shake just a bit with the effort, but at least it was a reaction other than the protests of a moment ago. “If you insist …” Those words hadn’t been much in the way of a promise (he’d managed to - what was that quaint human expression? Weasel? - weasel one or two of those out of her over the years, too), but then she turned towards him and he saw the look she gave him and knew from personal experience she would at least try to keep her word.
So, while she headed up to her cabin, he paid a brief visit to the bridge to inform Joker (little did Shepard know of the depth of concern her helmsman had for her) and then on down to the crew deck to chat with Liara, then Dr. Chakwas and eventually even to the shuttle bay to James, before returning to the CIC and finally ending up with Traynor, just to make certain all the possibilities for any interruption of the Commander’s rest were covered.
Afterwards, Garrus followed his own advice and headed back down to the main battery. Silence and solitude could be found here; a chance to get lost in the mechanics of calibrations, where worries could fade away and focus on something simple could be managed. It was the closest thing to peace that he was able to find in a galaxy going mad around him. He even found opportunity to rest himself, waking only when Liara stopped by to give him a heads up that she was headed up to wake Shepard because the salarian councilor wanted to speak with her. And though Garrus knew Liara to be an excellent information broker, the look in the asari’s eyes told him more than enough about the severity of the situation. Any thought for rest after that was gone.
He remained in the main battery for a time, the calibration process routine enough that he didn’t have to keep his focus on it, but he elected to do so instead. When he heard the door behind him sliding open after a while, he didn’t have to glance over his shoulder to see who it was, he knew who it would be.
“Feeling any better?” he asked casually.
He could almost hear the shrug in her tone, but it was an improvement over the outright belligerence from earlier. “Maybe.”
He turned to face her. “You still look like you could use some sleep, Shepard.”
She shook her head, moving to stand beside him, leaning her hip against the control panel. “Not worth it,” she informed him. “Not with the nightmares.”
“Ah.” That didn’t surprise him, actually, when he considered it. Spirits knew he had his own nightmares to deal with. “So … Liara mentioned something about the salarian councilor?”
Shepard smiled, a short but soft laugh escaping. It was a rather comforting sound he found. “Yeah.” She took a few moments to explain the situation as she knew it. “We’re heading to the Citadel now to speak with Councilor Valern.” There was a pause before she looked directly up at him, their eyes meeting and holding. “Things … aren’t looking good.”
“Udina? Huh.” Garrus could not say that he knew much about the man, even from his days at C-Sec, but what little he did know certainly had pointed at a somewhat shady direction. Or, maybe that had just been what Shepard often told him was his ‘gut instinct.’ “I wish I could say this idea surprises me, but I think we both know ….”
“Yeah.”
When turning to face her after tapping out a short command on the console, Garrus found Shepard staring up at him expectantly. His mandibles fluttered a bit, uncomfortable at the sudden and intense look she was giving him, but he waited patiently. If there was one thing he’d learned about the Commander, it was that no matter the situation, it would not keep her from stating what was on her mind.
“Look, Garrus,” she finally began, her hands beginning to do that fluttery, tangled thing they did on the very rare occasions he had noticed her becoming nervous or flustered or just plain awkward about something, “about that, ‘I’ll sleep when I’m dead,’ comment I made before ….”
It was rare for turians to make public displays of affection for another, even more rare for someone who wasn’t a turian themselves to recognize the gesture for what it was, but Garrus was beyond caring at that point. He and Shepard had found something together; something worth fighting to keep, and he wasn’t about to let it slip away yet again. Lifting his hand to her cheek (a move he’d caught in one of those vids Joker had suggested he watch), he gently and briefly cradled her face before moving his hand around to cover the braid that she had neatly twisted and pinned to the back of her head. Holding it there, he lowered his head and pressed his forehead against hers. “I think it’s safe to say I’m not going to allow that to happen anytime soon,” he told her mildly. “I’ve got your back, Shepard. Nothing will stop that.”
He wasn’t surprised when her hand rose up to touch his scarred mandible. In some ways, she seemed drawn to that area first whenever their words took on a more serious tone. She had once told him - well, hinted was probably more accurate - that it was because when he’d been hit by that rocket and all but left for dead, she had been forced into realizing several things: first, just what she felt for him; second, what the loss of him would do to her; and later, how much he had gone through during the two years thinking she was dead. Touching him, she’d explained, and reminding herself of all that could have been, was her way of grounding herself back into reality at times. How could he argue when it meant she felt about him the way he felt about her?
Shepard’s smile widened just a bit and Garrus pulled back. “Good to know,” she returned.