Chapter Text
Shepard had a problem.
Well, to be quite frank, she had a lot of problems. Unfortunately, that was at the root of the dilemma she was currently facing.
In her life, Shepard had faced numerous enemies, from thresher maws to reapers – each one of them being more fearsome than the last - but she never met an enemy she couldn’t beat. That was at least until she had to come to terms with the insomnia she was presently battling.
She had tried everything. Thane and Samara had attempted to guide her through some meditation to help her to relax, but she found all it did was give her a cramp in her lower back – she was simply too geared up to let go of her thoughts from the day, and the quiet contemplation sent her spiralling.
When that didn’t work, Shepard went to Chakwas for some light sedatives, but she found they worked a little too well. She slept through numerous alarms, only waking when Grunt had come pounding at her cabin door demanding to know why she wasn’t in her armour yet. Even when she did manage to wake up in a timely fashion, her head felt like it was filled with cotton, leaving her bleary and groggy for the first few hours of the day; something she couldn’t be dealing with during a mission – it not only jeopardized her own safety, but the safety of the entire crew. So, the medication was out.
For the most part, the crew didn’t notice anything amiss – Thane and Samara had guessed what plagued the commander when she asked for their assistance, but they were the last people on the ship to spread idle gossip, and Chakwas was bound to secrecy due to her ethics code as the Normandy's doctor.
The first to realize something was wrong was Garrus, when one night, upon the realization that he forgot to grab a datapad he had been reading, stumbled upon the commander pummeling the punching bag that had been set up in the observation deck a few weeks prior.
Shepard didn’t seem to hear him come in, her focus entirely on the task at hand. By the looks of it, she had been at this for a while. Her fists were wrapped in tape to protect the soft skin at her knuckles, though they looked like they were due to be rewrapped as they were beginning to fray at the edges. She had taken off her shirt at some point, simply donning a pair of black tights and a matching sports bra. Strands of her hair had come loose from the usually pristine bun she so often tucked it away in. Sweat beaded her brow, and Garrus watched, slightly awed, as a droplet glistened and trailed down her chest, slipping between her breasts. Turians didn’t normally have any cause to be attracted to this particular anatomy that human females held, but in his first few years at C-sec, Garrus had dated an asari for a short while who educated him on the…benefits breasts could hold, giving him an ample appreciation for the soft mounds of flesh.
After a few moments, Garrus realized he was staring and tore his gaze away, clearing his throat to make his presence known. Startled, Shepard swung around to face him – there was a slightly wild look in her eyes, the muscles at her back clenching tautly, fists still raised. She was poised and ready for a fight.
Before she could take a swing at his head, Garrus threw his hands up submissively, “Whoa, Shep, it’s just me.”
Her eyes focused, and slowly she lowered her fists to her sides, still breathing heavily. “Jesus, Garrus, don’t sneak up on me like that.”
Wordlessly, he threw her a clean towel that was sitting on the couch beside a water bottle, she caught it with ease and wiped away the perspiration on her brow.
“In my defence, I didn’t really sneak in, you just weren’t paying attention,” Garrus pointed out.
Faster than he could track her movements, with a flick of her wrist Shepard whipped the towel in his direction playfully, the force and speed of it sending a soft crack through the room as it struck his chest. Although the impact didn’t really hurt due to his hardened exterior, Garrus still flinched and let out a startled curse at the unexpected action. Shepard grinned at his reaction, “Who’s the one not paying attention now, big guy?”
He rolled his eyes – a trait he had unconsciously adopted due to his time with his human crew members. “Very mature Shep.”
She laughed as she draped the towel around her neck and plopped down on the couch. “What are you even doing up at this hour?”
Garrus strode forward, picking up the discarded datapad at the end of the couch and holding it aloft for the commander to see. “Calibrations won’t be done for another hour or two – the system is rebooting itself. I figured I’d get some reading done while I was waiting.” After a moment he raised a brow plate, “What are you doing up? Aren’t you supposed to meet the council in a few hours?”
She sighed deeply and pressed the palms of her hands against her eyelids before answering, “Couldn’t sleep. This seemed like the next best option.”
“Hmm,” Garrus hummed thoughtfully as he sat down beside her and really took her in – dark circles clung under her eyes, fingers twitching anxiously in her lap. There had been a slightly agitated tone to her demeanour the past couple of days, now that he thought of it. “This happen a lot?”
A beat of silence passed between the two of them before the commander turned to face him, her expression suddenly serious. “You can’t tell anyone else,” Shepard finally conceded, her shoulders drooping slightly in defeat. “I can’t have the crew thinking that there's something wrong with me. That's the last thing we need on a suicide mission,” She sighed, “But yeah, I think I’ve gotten like four hours of sleep in the past couple of days alone.”
"Have you–”
“Told Chakwas yet? Yeah, she knows. There’s nothing she can really do about it short of putting me in a medically induced coma at this point.”
“What about Mordin?” Garrus pointed out.
“Thought about it, but he’d probably want to study me or something. He’s pretty occupied with his work anyways. It’s not worth it – plus I don’t think there’s anything he could do differently than Chakwas.”
He tapped his talons on his knee unconsciously, contemplating the situation. “Too many thoughts echoing around in that head of yours?”
“Too many thoughts, too many things to do – never enough time.” She looked down at her hands in her lap, seeming uncharacteristically self-conscious for a moment, “I mean, dying and coming back probably doesn’t help the situation very much.”
“Well, I’m no shrink, but yeah I would put that down as the crux of the issue,” he agreed thoughtfully. After a moment's hesitation, Garrus reached across the space between them and squeezed her hand reassuringly. Her palm was soft and smooth; the skin perfect and unblemished where Cerberus had stitched her back together – a contrast to the battered and beaten tape at her knuckles. “That would mess with anyone's head.”
She nodded silently and looked up from where their hands were clasped, returning the gesture with a small smile. “Thanks, Garrus.”
He let go of her hand and leaned back against the couch as the two descended into a comfortable silence. He went to look out the bay window out of habit, but surprisingly the shutters were closed. He decided not to comment on it for the moment. Things were already raw enough as it was.
“What are you reading anyways? I feel like I haven’t read a good book in ages,” Shepard inquired curiously, reaching across the couch to snatch the datapad out of his grasp. Sensing what she was attempting to do, Garrus laughed as he used his added height to his advantage, holding the device just outside of her range of motion.
Determined, Shepard scrambled from her spot and practically crawled into his lap, grinning, “What are you hiding in there Garrus?” She teased, making another unsuccessful grab for the datapad.
Holding it higher, Garrus straightened, causing their chests to press together, separated simply by the fabric of his civvies and her sports bra — the breasts he had been appreciating earlier now directly in his line of vision. Though Shepard made no notice.
“Nothing!” He protested with a laugh, “Didn’t anyone tell you snooping through other people's things was rude?”
A smirk played across her face, “Yeah, but you of all people should know I’m not one for following the rules, Vakarian.”
In one swift motion, Shepard locked her legs around his waist. Garrus’ eyes widened slightly at the unexpected action; the sudden pressure against the sensitive and unplated expanse of skin at his side sent pleasant sensations to his core. “Or playing fair,” She added slyly, taking advantage of his slightly shocked expression and distracted attention to reach up and snatch the datapad from his fingers.
Once in her possession, she unceremoniously slid from Garrus’ lap to the empty space at his side, settling into the couch; a triumphant smile played across her face as she turned the device on.
The turian stared at her with a mix of disbelief and appreciation, his mandibles fluttering in agitation on his face. “Oh, that was just dirty Shep.”
She snorted softly, “You haven’t seen me play dirty yet Vakarian.”
He threw his arm to the back of the couch behind her, angling his body in her direction. “Where did you even learn a trick like that?” He inquired.
“You and Wrex aren’t the only ones with a Fornax subscription,” She responded nonchalantly. “And yes, I saw that you charged your accounts to the Normandy’s petty cash last mission. You two aren’t that slick.”
If Garrus was a human, he probably would have been blushing at this point, but thank the Spirits that turians weren’t burdened with that display of emotion. The two had been at this for the past few weeks – flirting when the others weren’t looking. Stealing glances and smiles when they passed each other in the mess hall. They had discussed possibly exploring whatever was going on between them further, to relieve some stress, but they had both been too busy as of late to do anything more than that.
He cleared his throat, “Yeah, well-”
Shepard cut him off as she scrolled through the datapad, reading off the titles within his library, “Why the hell do you have so many Batman comics in here?”
“Oh, Joker recommended some human books and media for me. He said I would really like this one for some reason. I still haven’t got around to it,” He replied, glad for the change in subject.
Shepard chuckled lightly, “Of course he did,” She paused as she went through the rest of the titles. “What were you reading then?”
Garrus thought for a minute, trying to recall the name. “Hmm, something called Frankenstein, I think? I wasn’t very far into it yet.”
She placed the datapad back in his hands, he looked up at her, slightly surprised.
Shepard shrugged and settled further into the couch, her back now pressed against the arm that he had lazily thrown behind them, their sides slightly grazing each other – though not uncomfortably. “Read it to me?” When he hesitated, she added, “I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I’m not going anywhere anytime soon, and I just thought if you had some spare time–”
Garrus’ mandibles fluttered into a smile as he relaxed, placing his feet on the coffee table in front of them. “Shep, it’s fine. I was just setting an alarm on my visor for the calibrations. Now, shut up so I can read it,” He teased, amused by her slightly nervous blathering.
She smacked his arm playfully, her cheeks turning red. “Don’t tell your commander to shut up. That’s insubordination, soldier.”
“You of all people should know I’m not one for following the rules,” He responded, echoing her words from earlier, she let out a breathless laugh. “Now shush.”
She rolled her eyes but quieted as he pulled up the book with the flick of a talon, he cleared his throat, his voice echoing through the night.
“‘ You will rejoice to hear that no disaster has accompanied the commencement of an enterprise which you have regarded with such evil forebodings. I arrived here yesterday …’”
About halfway through the second chapter, Garrus felt Shepard's head fall gently to his shoulder. He paused his reading, and a hush fell across the room. He looked down to see the commander's eyes closed; face relaxed – the worry lines on her forehead smoothed out – as she fell deeper into sleep, her breaths deep and even.
As gently as he could, Garrus turned off the datapad, setting it in his lap and closing his own eyes, smiling slightly. He was relieved that Shepard had managed to relax enough to get a few more hours of sleep – the insomnia was quite worrying to him. In the first few months after Shepard's death, Garrus was plagued by the same affliction. He knew how bad it could get. Only after he had gathered his crew on Omega and settled into a somewhat comfortable routine there had it gotten better. But the commander, on a new ship, with a new crew that she didn’t entirely trust, told her she had been brought back to life for a suicide mission didn't have that luxury or security. Garrus, being one of the only reminders of stability and of what once was, amid all of this chaos, was glad that he could provide some sort of comfort to his friend.
He too had been beginning to nod off when he heard the woosh of the doors opening. His eyes flung open as he gestured for whoever had come in to stay quiet.
Luckily it was just Samara; she padded into the room with an almost ethereal grace, not making a sound as her feet touched the floor. The asari stopped halfway to the two inhabitants on the couch, taking in the situation in front of her. Garrus swore he saw a small smile at the corner of her mouth.
“Garrus,” she said, her voice settling over him like velvet. “I did not expect you here.”
Garrus averted his gaze, slightly embarrassed, “Ah well, we didn’t really plan it. And I didn’t want to wake her…” he trailed off not knowing what else to say.
“No,” she assured him, “This is good. She has been struggling lately. Here, I will help you move her into a more comfortable position. I will not wake her.” She promised when she saw he was about to protest. “We’ll use my biotics. I’ll be gentle.”
Finally, Garrus relented and nodded his head. She gestured for him to stay where he was as she used her powers to slowly lower Shepard to her side, placing her head on a spare throw pillow at the end of the couch.
When it was done, Samara gave him a rare smile. “There, that will be better. If you want to make your way back to the main battery, I will watch over Shepard and make sure no one disturbs her – I thought I heard a timer going off on my way back here.”
Garrus glanced at the time on his visor and swore quietly, “Yeah, I should be getting back. Thanks, Samara.” He took one last look at the commander before he left – still in a deep slumber as the doors closed behind him.
He stood in the hallway for a moment before coming to a decision. “EDI? Are you there?”
“Yes, Garrus. How can I help?” The AI’s voice trickled clearly through the hall.
“Shepard has a meeting with the council at 9 am. Is there any way we can get that moved later in the day?”
There was a slight pause before the feminine voice responded. “There is an empty meeting spot at 4 pm, will that do?”
“Yeah, that would be great. Thanks, EDI.”
“You’re welcome, Garrus.”
As he made his way back to the main battery a smile spread across his face; he couldn’t help but feel a little lighter, knowing how the night's events had unexpectedly played out.