Re: Forgive me? 5B/?
anonymous
March 19 2012, 08:36:31 UTC
(stupid wordcount limit!)
Shepard remembered all the quiet evenings spent with Garrus in the solitude of her cabin aboard the Normandy, how she would slide her fingers through the smooth cartillage of his fringe, smiling at the way he would press his head into her hand with a sigh of sleepy contentment. He would always try to reciprocate, carding careful talons through the auburn strands as he pressed his forehead into the crook of her neck.
The jerky movement of the metal against her scalp is familiar, and Shepard looks up slowly. Garrus is still watching her with blank reaper eyes, one misshapen claw still clutching at the ruins of his visor, but the other scrapes clumsily through the disaray of her hair. Shepard reacts the only way she can, she slides a careful hand along the remnants of his cheek, avoiding the raw looking entry points of the glowing cybernetic implants. She tries not to flinch as her hand tracks along the broken edges of bone, where metal grafts replace the natural curve of cartillage, she wonders if he can even feel her hand anymore, but he gives a soft metalic sigh and presses the ruins of his head against her hand.
“ I’m so sorry” Shepard whispers, as her fingers slide over the twist of wires at the back of his skull, “I’m so sorry I left you to face this alone.” She gently cups a hand under what remains of his jaw, raising his glowing eyes to meet her own, “please Garrus, please forgive me.” As ever he does not hesitate, rasping out a dissonant “yeh-esss” he leans forward to press the cold metal of his browplate against Shepard’s forehead.
Re: Forgive me? 5B/?
anonymous
March 19 2012, 19:46:06 UTC
IMHO it's the worst because you make a decision for anyone else where you really can't estimate the outcome. There are worse things than death, and for some? most? that would be it. Me, I'd not mind so much, but I couldn't force that on anyone else.
Re: Forgive me? 6/?
anonymous
March 20 2012, 01:26:55 UTC
They stay like that for what feels like hours; closing her eyes, Shepard can almost imagine that the sternal keel that presses against her is warm and rough-not cold, ash speckled metal. She presses her face to a patch of intact hide on the side of his neck, wishing she could smell his sharp, earthy scent instead of the dark mix of burned metal, old blood, and charred flesh.
“I can fix this,” Shepard whispers against him, ignoring the way he jerkily shakes his head. “Come back with me, we’ll find a way to fix this, we always do,” hope floods her mind for the first time in weeks, blocking out the way Garrus clumsily pulls back from her touch. Her hands, insistent now, skate over the augmented joints of his shoulders, “we can go away, somewhere warm, just the two of us! Shepard and Vakarian.”
Garrus shakes his head violently, dislodging her hands as his mind broadcasts a static crackle of pain and anger through the reaper nodes in her brain.
“N…n..nno Seh-aarrd, nno mmmo-rre,” he breaths in irregular gasping pants, trying to force the slurred speech out past the destruction of invasive wiring in his throat. “Puh-rrreeesse, nno mmo-rre” his voice trails off into a grating wail of muttered feedback. He scrapes hard at his face with a heavy steel talon, keening a low moan as his unatural shielding stalls the movemnt with a flicker of kinetic energy.
Shepard lets her hands fall limply to her knees, the coil of hope in her stomach dying into a cold knot of dread. It had been a selfish hope she realised, a desperate grab for a ‘what should have been’ rather than the horror of what actually was. Numbly she watches Garrus paw with frantic repetition at the exposed nodes in his skull, defeated by the defences the reapers had forced into his body.
“We were supposed to meet at the bar,” Shepard chokes out, “we were supposed to meet at the damned bar. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, we did everything right, how can it be like this?!”
Garrus cocks his head at her, all the toments of hell in those bright souless eyes, and Shepard realises she will never get past this. All the men lost, family, friends, the millions that burned while the crucible was built, she carries them like a lodestone;……but this, she realises, is what is going to end her. She digs the heels of her hands into the cybernetics of her eyes, pressing until the pain twists through her head, dulling the sounds of distant reapers. She wishes she could stay blind, curl up in the darkness of her mind and just….not be here.
“Reee-sssa? ” Garrus rasps softly, making Shepard flinch again at that garbled, shattered voice. He hitches himself closer to her, the rifle damage to his one leg sliding across the pavement with a dull screech. Somethings bumps heavily against her knees, and the moment she lowers her hands from her eyes Garrus fumbles something heavy and cold into them. For a moment Shepard cannot move, muscle memory telling her numb mind what Garrus is akwardly folding her uncooperative hands around. She stares straight ahead, nerveless fingers cradling the Carnifex pistol as Garrus buries his head in her shoulder, one talon forcing her fingers around the trigger while he gasps “Reee-ssssa, puh-rreeessse” in a low groan against her neck.
Re: Forgive me? 6/?
anonymous
March 20 2012, 04:20:42 UTC
Thank you for this fill, anon. It's heartbreaking.
I sobbed like a baby through my first playthrough, especially all the way through the end, from Garrus' goodbye on until... awhile after I finished the game. I just yesterday finished my second playthough (which I did to fix a few small things) and... my second playthrough I just felt dead. Hollow. I felt like I wanted to cry for Mordin, for Legion, for the end, but I just couldn't.
This fill is making me cry. I needed to cry. Thank you.
Shepard remembered all the quiet evenings spent with Garrus in the solitude of her cabin aboard the Normandy, how she would slide her fingers through the smooth cartillage of his fringe, smiling at the way he would press his head into her hand with a sigh of sleepy contentment. He would always try to reciprocate, carding careful talons through the auburn strands as he pressed his forehead into the crook of her neck.
The jerky movement of the metal against her scalp is familiar, and Shepard looks up slowly. Garrus is still watching her with blank reaper eyes, one misshapen claw still clutching at the ruins of his visor, but the other scrapes clumsily through the disaray of her hair. Shepard reacts the only way she can, she slides a careful hand along the remnants of his cheek, avoiding the raw looking entry points of the glowing cybernetic implants. She tries not to flinch as her hand tracks along the broken edges of bone, where metal grafts replace the natural curve of cartillage, she wonders if he can even feel her hand anymore, but he gives a soft metalic sigh and presses the ruins of his head against her hand.
“ I’m so sorry” Shepard whispers, as her fingers slide over the twist of wires at the back of his skull, “I’m so sorry I left you to face this alone.” She gently cups a hand under what remains of his jaw, raising his glowing eyes to meet her own, “please Garrus, please forgive me.” As ever he does not hesitate, rasping out a dissonant “yeh-esss” he leans forward to press the cold metal of his browplate against Shepard’s forehead.
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The tears. They won't stop. D:
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yeah. Not going to choose that one either. Well written, anon, very well written.
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just my opinion, of course.
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... yeah, okay, I am crying.
This hurts, a!a. This hurts a lot. Which means you're doing it right.
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which strangely means i want more...
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“I can fix this,” Shepard whispers against him, ignoring the way he jerkily shakes his head. “Come back with me, we’ll find a way to fix this, we always do,” hope floods her mind for the first time in weeks, blocking out the way Garrus clumsily pulls back from her touch. Her hands, insistent now, skate over the augmented joints of his shoulders, “we can go away, somewhere warm, just the two of us! Shepard and Vakarian.”
Garrus shakes his head violently, dislodging her hands as his mind broadcasts a static crackle of pain and anger through the reaper nodes in her brain.
“N…n..nno Seh-aarrd, nno mmmo-rre,” he breaths in irregular gasping pants, trying to force the slurred speech out past the destruction of invasive wiring in his throat. “Puh-rrreeesse, nno mmo-rre” his voice trails off into a grating wail of muttered feedback. He scrapes hard at his face with a heavy steel talon, keening a low moan as his unatural shielding stalls the movemnt with a flicker of kinetic energy.
Shepard lets her hands fall limply to her knees, the coil of hope in her stomach dying into a cold knot of dread. It had been a selfish hope she realised, a desperate grab for a ‘what should have been’ rather than the horror of what actually was. Numbly she watches Garrus paw with frantic repetition at the exposed nodes in his skull, defeated by the defences the reapers had forced into his body.
“We were supposed to meet at the bar,” Shepard chokes out, “we were supposed to meet at the damned bar. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, we did everything right, how can it be like this?!”
Garrus cocks his head at her, all the toments of hell in those bright souless eyes, and Shepard realises she will never get past this. All the men lost, family, friends, the millions that burned while the crucible was built, she carries them like a lodestone;……but this, she realises, is what is going to end her. She digs the heels of her hands into the cybernetics of her eyes, pressing until the pain twists through her head, dulling the sounds of distant reapers. She wishes she could stay blind, curl up in the darkness of her mind and just….not be here.
“Reee-sssa? ” Garrus rasps softly, making Shepard flinch again at that garbled, shattered voice. He hitches himself closer to her, the rifle damage to his one leg sliding across the pavement with a dull screech. Somethings bumps heavily against her knees, and the moment she lowers her hands from her eyes Garrus fumbles something heavy and cold into them. For a moment Shepard cannot move, muscle memory telling her numb mind what Garrus is akwardly folding her uncooperative hands around. She stares straight ahead, nerveless fingers cradling the Carnifex pistol as Garrus buries his head in her shoulder, one talon forcing her fingers around the trigger while he gasps “Reee-ssssa, puh-rreeessse” in a low groan against her neck.
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I sobbed like a baby through my first playthrough, especially all the way through the end, from Garrus' goodbye on until... awhile after I finished the game. I just yesterday finished my second playthough (which I did to fix a few small things) and... my second playthrough I just felt dead. Hollow. I felt like I wanted to cry for Mordin, for Legion, for the end, but I just couldn't.
This fill is making me cry. I needed to cry. Thank you.
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I cried for an hour after I beat the game.
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