Garrus got out of the hospital as soon as he could against medical advice. Not that any of them were familiar with turian physiology to have any idea how long he truly needed to recover from his injuries. Although they hadn't been wrong to suggest he stay as he was anything but healed, but Garrus was stubborn. And he couldn't stand laying on that
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John at least had an excuse to look hard, but it totally wasn't staring.
"You're new here. I'd say welcome, but I figure, like the rest of us it wasn't your idea."
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"Yeah... definitely not my idea."
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"Looks like you got chewed up pretty good there."
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Jokes were easier than dealing with what lead up to that point. How he'd gotten people who'd followed him killed. And about how he'd been betrayed.
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In a shimmer of light between one breath and the next, the god of war appeared near Garrus, walking beside him.
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He reacted purely on instinct, hand going for rifle and then turning in a fluid motion to aim the weapon straight at Ares' head.
Garrus had just spent weeks fighting for his life, so forgive him for being a little jumpy.
"Who're you...?" Garrus asked tentatively, his mandibles flaring.
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There was a touch of familiarity though. Perhaps something he'd read of human theology. Quite a few turians took to the human religions.
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