thearchangel | 1

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[It's doubtful anyone in the Keep has seen a turian before. If not, here's your chance. The one in question is sitting on his bed... cot... thing, staring down at the journal in his hands. He looks a lot less exhausted -- since he just slept for days, but no less banged around.

Or maybe it's just how he always looks, considering one side of his face is scarred horrifically.]

I... think I was supposed to contact the local medic. Or have her contact me. I think. Everything's a little hazy still.

Sort of hoped I'd gotten cracked on the head... But I guess we don't get to be that lucky...

[Garrus scrubs a hand over his face.]

And I'm out of stims. Perfect.

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[Look up 'inevitability', Vakarian.]

Been patrolling in general but haven't found anything... useful.

[Odd? Nonsensical? Yes on both accounts. Useful? Hardly.]

It's a thing humans do when we're kids. Crossing our fingers is supposed to be for luck.

What did you find? Out of curiosity.

[He'll take any intel he can get, at this point.]

Guess that's easier with more fingers, huh?

[She snorts disapprovingly.] If I got started now, you really would keep me up all night, rascal.

[A second's silence hovers while she examines her splayed gloveless fingers, mentally comparing them to a turian's digits.]

You know, it's considered talented if a human can cross five fingers on one hand. What about your three?

Hey, isn't that what you wanted?

[There's a creak of armor as he leans back against a wall.]

Shepard, I only recently learned we were using air quotes. I'm not exactly sure what talented turian fingers would be.

God. Don't bring those up to me.

[Shepard's voice rises in pitch, affecting a nasal whine.] Ah, yes, air quotes. We have dismissed those claims.

Bastards.

[He can't help it, Garrus laughs, shaking his head, even if she can't see it.]

I'm with you on that. You'd think after saving their necks, they'd at least give us a little recognition.

But instead... air quotes. A whole new low.

Doesn't even begin to cover it.

But, hey. Maybe someday we'll all be big damn heroes.

You know... sometimes I wonder if it's even possible to be one, when you're around.

[She winces and coughs, turning her face away from the record and indulging in gladness that he can't see it.]

You manage just fine. You all do.

[Garrus is silent for a moment.]

... It means a lot to hear you say that, Shepard.

Come on, Garrus, you had to already know. The galaxy'd be Reaper fodder if I was doing this alone.

[Her voice is a bit on the strained side.]

[That makes him blink.]

... Yeah. I know. I...

Shepard, is everything all right?

[Shit on cake.]

Yeah-- actually, no. Everything's not all right.

We're stuck in the ass-end of nowhere twiddling our thumbs and feeding you medicinal crackers because allegedly the universe we've been trying to save is gone. All of it, just gone. Kaidan, Wrex, Anderson, the Citadel, Omega. Even the Reapers.

And we have to sit here and wait for something to happen.

I just-- dammit, Garrus. This isn't how it's supposed to work.

[Garrus doesn't answer her right away. Partly because he's not sure if there's anything he can say to that.]

You never were very good at twiddling.

Look, we don't have any facts. We can't make any assumptions until we do -- we can't buy into this bullshit until we do. But, hell, if the Reapers are gone... no big loss there.

[He's trying to keep this light -- even so, there's still conviction behind the words.]

And I don't know about you, but I was beat to hell when I woke up. Sitting was about all I was good for. Now that we're both on our feet again, so to speak... We'll just have to see about making this work out how it should.

Find out what's going on... then show the kidnappers what happens when they piss you off.

Sounds like a plan to me, Garrus.

[Breathe, Shepard, deep, even breaths.]

Right. We consider every angle. Daily rounds of the Keep until we have the layout down pat, and even then. Conserve hardsuit power. Stay vigilant.

I thought so, too.

You got it, Shepard. And I've got your back. I'll keep you posted if I find anything.

Right.

I'm gonna ... [try to] sleep, for now. You need anything, my room is 2115. Don't be a stranger.

... Want anyone to keep a lookout, while you're down?

[This is code for, Do you really want to be alone?]

No. Sweet offer, but you need your rest, too.

... That's an order.

Hey, I passed out for about twenty hours already. If that's not rest, I'm not sure what is.

And you'd rather park your turian butt outside my cell than take the opportunity to have a lazy day?

Who says that's not a lazy day?

Uh huh, nothing interesting ever happens when I'm around.

Alright. So long as you keep the calibrations to a minimum noise level, you can play bodyguard.

Well, that's why the Normandy has the extranet. For all that copious downtime we get.

Yes ma'am. I'll be there in a second.

[He'll find warm bread and butter on a small place just outside her door, which is left cracked open. Shepard is face-down on her bed with a hand on the pistol underneath a pillow.

The wonders of paranoia.]

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turian_honor.livejournal.com - 2011-04-17 07:42 (UTC) - Expand

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