thearchangel: (The confusion and the aftermath)
Garrus Vakarian ([personal profile] thearchangel) wrote2012-04-12 12:07 am

18 - [commentlog] | Dreams

[He doesn't dream. Typically, Garrus is just too dead tired to do anything like dream. He sleeps -- he wakes up. There's nothing memorable in between. It's not unpleasant. He doesn't regret it. It's just how things are.]

[Which makes it all the more strange that, tonight, the dream is so vivid, he could swear he is actually there. That it isn't a dream at all.]



[-- that one thing you wanted to do before you died, Shepard?"

She's there and her voice is warm. Affectionate. It's good to hear. They're moving -- the Presidium flashes past the windows of a car. The presidium... and his face. His scars have healed, the angry, dark red faded to motled pink and grey. When he looks at them now, the anger, the disgust and the bitterness are as mellowed as the marks themselves.]

[They're talking. They're... flirting. It's natural, it's easy. Surprisingly easy.]

[And then they're parked. Up high on the Presidium. Where he'd always promised himself he'd go, someday, somehow. There they are. No one else is near. No one but the sound of simulated wind, the whir of passing traffic. She looks more tired than he remembers. Then again, there's good reason for that. They both know it.]

[It's amazing up here -- beautiful, she thinks. Everything and everyone else a million miles away. They're alone. For the first time in ages, they're truly alone with one another. He looks over...]

["The worst part of the galaxy going to hell would've been never getting to see you again."]

[The words that pass between them then are a promise -- a stammering, awkward, heartfelt and honest pledge. And it's the kiss, the should-have-been-impossible "thing you do for someone you love", that seals it.
]

[He jerks awake when the last bottle explodes over the Presidium, and she leans against him, taking in the sight of it all.]



[The walls of the Keep greet him when he wakes up, not the Presidium. There's a bed under his bony ass, not armor. It's dark. Quiet. And his heart is racing.]

[What... was that? Any of that?]


- - -

[Later in the night, he's put his armor back on, and taken up a vantage point in the chapel, the higher the better, staring down solemnly at the floors below. A bottle is in one hand.]

[While the other traces the harsh, brutal outlines of broken cartilage across the side of his face.]
xenoshepherd: (pic#2128566)

[personal profile] xenoshepherd 2012-04-12 07:31 am (UTC)(link)
[Shepard dreams of that and more; of the night before and drinking to the memory of a man who prayed for her sake even after he'd passed on. Meeting Garrus on the Citadel the next day feeling like shit but wanting to make them both happy for a time. Looking at him, taking him in with that confident sleekness and good humor brightening her day.

Telling him she loves him. Seeing who snipes better as a game-- missing the second bottle on purpose, just to see him get all excited and hear the giddiness in his voice. Just like a kid, just like a handful of stupid undercity Tenth Street Reds and Jane. So happy to find that ancient arcade and rebuild it, watching those young faces light up over such a thing. Such a small thing.

Shepard opens her eyes seconds after Garrus does, inhaling sharply through flaring nostrils.]
xenoshepherd: (pic#)

[personal profile] xenoshepherd 2012-04-12 08:03 am (UTC)(link)
[Shepard rustles the blanket a little, in moving to rub and knead her temples. The exhale after holding her breath for a moment, while processing the dream, is long and slow.]

Garrus?
xenoshepherd: (pic#)

[personal profile] xenoshepherd 2012-04-12 08:21 am (UTC)(link)
[And what he'd said afterward was, "Wow." Shepard can tell what he meant, and what saying that meant to him. The kiss said everything else plain.

It has not parsed as a possibility that he could have dreamed the exact same scenario. She's no asari. Mind-melding is beyond her. Hell, she doesn't even have an ounce of biotic ability, for all the cybernetic implants have done.

Without sitting up yet, she squints through the dark.]


Just dreamed the strangest thing.
xenoshepherd: (pic#)

[personal profile] xenoshepherd 2012-04-12 08:43 am (UTC)(link)
Nuh-uh, buddy. [a pat on his talons] You first. What's up?

[The undercurrents in his voice, his body language, those woke her up faster than understanding just what it is that invaded her dreamscape. A squaddie in trouble takes precedence over fantasies she can recall in crystal clarity. Those can be perused on a later occasion.

The lighting may be poor, but Garrus can probably recognize the stubborn glint in these eyes.]
xenoshepherd: (pic#)

[personal profile] xenoshepherd 2012-04-12 08:54 am (UTC)(link)
[A niggling thought, a wonder, drifts through her mind. Shepard disregards it for the time being and favors the turian in her bed with her steadiest stare. Fingers curl around his, gentle in understanding.]

So tell me about it.

[No judgment.]
xenoshepherd: (pic#)

[personal profile] xenoshepherd 2012-04-15 09:04 am (UTC)(link)
[Her jaw goes a little slack, but who could blame her? Shepard is not an asari. She cannot share memories, link spirits or experience the dreams of people sleeping next to her. And with what they'd been up to last night, she'd think she would have noticed if he was secretly an asari himself.

The implications are. . . 'unsettling' is close, but too negative to be the word she's searching for. To show solidarity with Garrus while the cogs turn in her brain, Shepard sits up at last and lets her free hand touch his cheek. The unscarred one, simply because it's the one facing her.

No judging and certainly no laughing.]


That's. . . interesting. To put it lightly. Maybe it was something we ate, because I dreamed everything you did.
xenoshepherd: (pic#)

[personal profile] xenoshepherd 2012-04-17 03:40 am (UTC)(link)
[Shepard shrugs, a chagrined smile tugging at her mouth. Her mind is on the scientifically improbable miracle solutions Sycora developed for him-- for both of them. On the Earth reptiles they found under the tower, made of solid rock instead of scales and muscle. On the days he woke up as a human and she. . . failed to open her eyes, because suddenly she had none in her skull.

It's a lot easier to accept now.]


Think about what you just said, then think about where we're at.