Gift exchange - for Davidnm
Being practical
- a Mass Effect story -
written by ryuosen for davidnm
written for the gift exchange at masseffect
genre: sci-fi, christmas
wordcount: ~ 1400
warnings: none, though people who don't know anything about the ME3 endings should consider this story a spoiler
Summary:
Cleaning up after the Reapers were destroyed shouldn't be Shepard's task, but naturally it was. So it was only natural that Garrus would do something to lighten the workload. Or just drive Shepard up the next wall...
Author's note:
My giftee wished for something with Reapers. So here is something Garrus would do with a dead Reaper..
Merry Christmas!
Wish:
3. Post-Destroy ending … just what do you do with a dead Reaper? (Can use any place or character, either fic or art.)
Now enjoy the story and the art...
One shouldn't irritate heroes, it wasn't very smart. But if there was one thing Garrus had learned - since his forcefully extended stay on earth had begun - it was that people were generally stupid, especially newly instated earth ambassadors.
Putting the gun, he'd been calibrating, down he took the crutch from the wall it had been leaning against and set to hobble into the general direction, the shouting was coming from. It wasn't exactly far, but for Garrus it might have been a mile. But then again, losing a foot was a far more comfortable outcome than say... losing his head.. not that he hadn't experienced that already to some degree as well.
After the assault had been launched to reach the Citadel and the Normandy had flown of with a badly injured Liara and James on board it had been up him and the remaining forces to keep the worst away from Shepard.
He was proud to say he succeeded and it wasn't like the leg he lost couldn't be replaced. As soon as the necessary tools arrived that is and hopefully some painkillers he could actually take. Supplies hadn't been plenty and they had enough injured comrade lying around that medigel had been reserved for the most direst of cases. Of them they had - how else could it be - plenty and not nearly enough medigel.
Though it wasn't as if he couldn't ignore the injury, the wound was after all cauterized and infection free. It had been pure luck, the medic had said, pure luck that the grenade hadn't taken more while Garrus liked to think of it as skill in dodging flying projectiles.
Ducking under another hurriedly constructed shelter, he finally found the source of the shouting. It was as suspected Shepard and the new earth ambassador whose name Garrus still didn't know. A sweeping glance told him that most other soldiers on duty had the foresight to stay out of whatever argument the two had going on.
A wise choice, considering that Shepard's fuse was nearly nonexistence since he had awoken from the coma he'd fallen into after the crucible had fired and he'd somehow ended up in the wreckage that was London.
Damn Cerberus!
There were days Garrus hated the bastards something fierce, however most of the time he was just grateful of what they had invested in Shepard for no other human could have survived the injuries the Commander had suffered either before or after the fall from the Citadel.
The woman stalked away, stride stiff and the posture signaling anger, leaving Shepard behind on the cot they had turned into a hospital bed. The Commander wearily sank back into the sheets, offering Garrus a tired smile as he stepped closer.
“Garrus..”
“You know Shepard, I'd always thought you had a way with the ladies. But that was just disgraceful...” Garrus remarked, while seating himself on one of the supply chests.
A lip twitched but no actual smile before Garrus got his answer, “Not with this lady I'm afraid. What can I do for you Garrus? The leg still bothering you?”
Garrus had known Shepard for years by now, even if the Commander had been dead for two of them, so he could spot the guilt a mile away and suppressed any exasperated motion. Though he couldn't stop his hands from patting his healthy leg, encased in plaster and remains of scavenged armor.
“Considering that it's still functioning and in one piece, I can't complain. What did the female Udina want?”
Shepard sighed and looked even more tired than before. Garrus could empathize, since he'd been pronounced healthy enough to get up and do some light work nearly everyone came and asked advice on the most harebrained things he could imagine.
“She wanted advice on how to get rid of the dead Reaper..”
Had Garrus had eyebrows, he would have undoubtedly raised them questioningly but as he didn't he settled for words, “The one disrupting your charming view of death and destruction?” and motioned towards the shore of the Thames were the remains of a fallen Reaper protruded from among the wreckage.
Shepard nodded before leaning back and Garrus knew that their time was about to be cut short. Shepard still tired very easily and was only awake for very brief amounts of time. One would think that the Commander should be allowed to spent those times however he wished. Apparently not when Reapers were considered, even if they were dead.
“Bit hard concerning our current lack of manpower but...” he trailed off, noting that Shepard was already asleep, face relaxed.
Patting Shepard gently on the shoulder he shouldered the crutch and made his way towards the supplies officer. He couldn't move the Reaper nor could anyone else really. Not with the currently lack of pretty much anything but he could do something about the view, he just needed to find a few kids capable of biotics.
The next time Shepard woke up, Garrus was prepared - with a bottle of Ice Brandy he had managed to haggle from one of the other soldiers and two cups.
As always, since Shepard had been recovered and had to be told that the Normandy had been lost during the retreat shortly before the Crucible fired, their Commander slept deeply but rarely peacefully. Waking up was always connected to a healthy dose of adrenaline and a question about the Normandy's whereabouts.
This time though, Shepard stayed silent blinking once, twice before turning to face him.
“Really Garrus...” and turned back to stare at the Reaper, again.
“Nice isn't it, your kids told me it's customary for an earthian holiday called Christmas... though since we are currently lacking fir trees or any kind of trees really, I thought it would substitute nicely.”
The star at top of the Reaper had been a real piece of work and having it done stealthily even more since active biotics were mostly forbidden with the possibility of further attacks. The fairy lights had been easier, the Reaper had even enough energy in its core left to power them saving him the trouble of stealing cables which might be needed elsewhere.
Then he heard a sound he hadn't heard in month - laughter. Shepard was laughing, though it sounded more like hacking since smoke inhalation wasn't very productive for human health anymore than it was for everyone else and why was Shepard laughing anyway?
“... Christmas is in December, not in June....” was the answer he got, once Shepard had enough air to breathe again.
Oh, that would explain the amused looks the kids had given him but he'd gotten Shepard to laugh, so he could pat himself on the back for it. Not that Shepard needed to know that. Instead Garrus appeared to try to take his crutch back from where he had placed it.
“See if I do anything nice for you ever again. I'll think I'll go and… calibrate some more weapons while having this nice Ice brandy to myself...”
Now that got Shepard's attention, just like Garrus had known it would. The drinking with Dr. Chakwas was something of an open secret on the Normandy. Bruised fingers wrapped around his wrist and tugged him back.
“Stay Garrus, the ambassador wanted to come back later and...”
“Then you definitely need the brandy more than I do,” pouring the brandy in the cups, Garrus handed Shepard one before lifting his own.
“To defeated Reapers...”
“... and their new uses...”
The fairy lights twinkled in the distance...
“Be quiet Shepard....”
fin