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The ping of his omnitool drew Garrus out of near-sleep, and with a grumble he reached blindly for the makeshift table next to his cot. Galactic war wasn’t the time for settings like silent, and as he squinted against the blue light he expected a message from Victus or a ping from Shepard about some new horror. Good news was hard to come by these days. His eyes flicked to the clock as he input his passcode. They were well into the night cycle.
Unexpectedly, the message was from Tali.
“Shepard needs you.”
As much as any wartime headline, those three words made his stomach flip.
“Where?” he sent back, reaching for the light and swinging his feet down to the floor.
“Cabin.”
He pulled a jacket over his shoulders and slipped from the battery, avoiding meaningful glances from two crewmen in the hall. He had a feeling this wasn’t a— what was that word Shepard had used? Bootycall. He snorted despite himself as the elevator doors opened.
They were all under enormous pressure, Shepard most of all. No sleep, tragedy after tragedy, it was starting to take a toll. He was worried. He’d been worried, each month and year and mission more, and again and again Shepard had been fine. Saren. Collectors. Reapers. House arrest.
The doors to Shepard’s cabin opened for him automatically, and he expected to find her in the bed. Instead Tali sat there, hands ringing anxiously in her lap.
“Garrus,” she said when she saw him, relief palpable in her voice.
“Hey,” he murmured. “Where’s Shepard?”
Tali nodded to the desk, just barely obstructed from view by the door. A near-finished model ship laid in the back corner. He stepped into the room, and Shepard’s head popped up from the floor.
“Shepard, what—“
“Thank God,” she said. “I’ve lost a piece.”
“You’ve lost…?”
“The last screw for that cruiser,” Tali filled in, and Garrus shot her a look that meant, you called me up here for this? Her eyes narrowed. He swallowed. Right.
“You need my help looking?”
“She’s been digging around for an hour,” Tali explained, crossing her legs.
“Have you slept?” he asked as he dropped to the floor. Shepard shrugged. He looked back to Tali, who shook her head.
“Shepard,” he murmured, voice low. “You need to sleep.”
“Help me finish this.” Her tone didn’t leave room for argument.
There was nothing on his side of the floor or on the desk. He eventually nudged Shepard out of the way, lowering himself to press his cheek to the ground. No screw, not a hair or a speck of dirt or a crumb out of place. Shepard was neat, but the Alliance had also done a number on the ship. Deep cleaning. Refitting. No space hamster left to scatter pine shavings on the floor.
“I’m sorry,” he said, pulling himself up from the ground. “We can pick something up the next time we’re in port.”
Shepard let out a choked laugh.
“Do you have a magnet?” he asked Tali, who shook her head. Shepard’s teeth dug into her lip.
“Maybe the kit was missing a piece,” Garrus offered. She shook her head then drew a sharp breath.
“You two can go,” she said. “You need sleep.”
Garrus’s eyes met Tali’s.
“ You need sleep,” the quarian said gently, and Shepard shook her head again.
“Yeah,” Garrus decided. “You do. Come on.”
Tali rose and pulled back the bedsheets, and it only took one step forward for Shepard to stumble into Garrus’s arms. Face pressed against his keel, he felt her body shake with a laugh or maybe a sob.
“I’m sorry,” she said when she felt the tension in his body. “I really am fine.”
“Yeah,” he replied, and he picked her up. That did get a laugh, a breathless sound of surprise, and he deposited her in the center of her bed. “Take that off,” he nodded to the jacket that never left her body. “Don’t know how you sleep with all of those zippers.”
He glanced over at Tali in her enviro-suit.
“Sorry,” he said, and she shrugged.
“ I’ve never complained about turians sleeping in the nude.”
He narrowed his eyes. Tali winked.
The night needed a little levity.
Wordlessly, Shepard stripped to her tank top and tossed the jacket to Garrus, who hung it over the chair.
“Satisfied?” she asked, flopping back onto her elbows. Tali hummed.
“It would help if you actually put your head on the pillow.”
For a moment all three of them were silent.
“I haven’t slept in three days,” Shepard finally admitted quietly. “I can’t.”
Garrus wasn’t surprised. Tali let out a long breath.
“I’ve been working on that stupid cruiser instead.”
“It’s not stupid,” Tali said quietly. She took a seat on the edge of the bed. “I write new code for Chiktikka when I can’t sleep. Silly things. Color changing doesn’t have a lot of functionality, you know.”
Shepard exhaled softly through her nose.
“Will you stay with me?” she asked. Garrus saw Tali smile. Something about it made him warm. Shepard needs you, she’d said. She needs you too, he thought.
“Of course.”
The bed wasn’t really big enough for the three of them, but Shepard tugged him in close and it didn’t matter. She finally relaxed back into the pillow as Tali cuddled in behind her. The quarian fiddled with her omnitool and the lights dimmed.
“Thank you,” Shepard whispered after a quiet moment. “Thank you for being here. I don’t know if I’ll sleep, but….”
“You don’t have to,” Garrus said simply, brushing his mandibles over her hair and inhaling deeply. He felt Tali reach for his hand over Shepard’s side. He took it and she squeezed tightly.
“If you do,” Tali promised, “We’ll be here when you wake up.” Garrus watched her flip her tablet to silent and toss it to the floor. It was nearly an act of defiance. She met his eyes. Garrus cleared this throat.
“Me too,” he said, and he meant it. “I’ll wake you if I need to. The galaxy can make do without us for six hours.”
There was something true to that, in an almost morbidly comforting way. The galaxy would go on. Humans, quarians, hanar or no. He felt Shepard relax gradually between them. Her breathing evened. She wasn’t asleep, but it was better than the floor. He eventually closed his eyes, Tali’s thumb stroking his wrist lulling him to someplace peaceful.
“I love you,” Shepard whispered when he was right at the twilight between here and there . “I love you both.” He was too far gone to respond, no blaring interruptions, just warmth, but he felt Tali’s face come close, brushing over Shepard’s forehead and then his.
“Mm,” he purred when Tali whispered,
“I love you.”
He slept. They all did, because when he woke up, Shepard was snoring softly against his chest, her legs tangled in the blanket with Tali’s. He looked over them, feeling…it wasn’t luck, exactly, or pride.
Love, his brain supplied, and he exhaled softly. He’d promised not to get out of bed. He reached for Shepard’s tablet instead, flipped over on the bedside table, and put in a request for one A53 micro-screw. Classified, he wrote under “project.” Give the requisition officer a reason to snort. Shepard had 63 notifications. He left them alone—her business first.
Tali shifted but didn’t wake. He pulled up his own omnitool. He found both their names in his shortcuts, easily, always first, and drew a breath.
“I love you,” he sent to Tali and then Shepard. His fingers shook as he typed it. Give them something sweet to wake up to, mixed with the headlines and responsibilities. Before he could overthink it. Before he lost the chance. He muffled the ping of Shepard’s tablet with a wince—his own message, 64.
He dozed at Shepard’s side until an alarm finally woke them—a chime that Shepard had set, not the ship’s.
“I slept,” she said groggily as Tali pulled a pillow over her ears. “Shit. I have to get ready.”
“Good morning to you too,” Garrus grunted, but his mandibles twitched with amusement. She climbed over him, picking up her tablet and her jacket from the chair. He waited, frozen, for half a moment as she scrolled, wondering if she’d even remember the night before.
For the first time in a long time, Shepard’s eyes seemed less tired when she met his. She smiled.
“Good morning.”