Disclaimer: Don't own Garrus, don't own Mass Effect, blah blah. If I did own Garrus--actually, let's not go into that :)
A/N: Spoilers for the Samara loyalty sidequest. I have modified the mission to fit my needs for the story--I know what happens in-game, and I know my interpretation is different. Enjoy, and please read and review!
Fever Dream, Part One
By KSCrusaders
Garrus hated clubs. Even when he'd been a C-Sec officer, he dreaded assignments to Chora's Den. Too much chaos and too damn many people, any of whom could have a drink too many and ruin someone else's evening. Tonight, however, as he prowled the catwalks above Afterlife with the asari justicar, he was focused entirely on one person.
The safety of the sniper rifle was on, the scope trained on Kaliya Shepard's shining black hair. Through the crosshairs, she looked so much younger than usual, so painfully vulnerable. No guns, weapons, or omnitool--hell, not even decent clothes to cover her up. She wore a blue silken dress that came to her knees, cut so it tied around her neck and left the pale skin of her back entirely exposed.
He gritted his teeth. Live bait for Samara's murderous daughter, and she looked it every inch. He tore his attention from Shepard to glare at the justicar, sitting calmly on the catwalk beside him.
Samara ignored him, deep in meditation. Garrus could feel his muscles clenching, and took a moment to try and calm down. Kaliya was not defenseless, never defenseless no matter how she looked. She still had her wits, her intelligence, and her formidable biotics to protect her.
The problem was that Morinth had the same gifts, compounded with her utter lack of morality and her hundreds of years of experience...and victims. And Kaliya, although more than capable of protecting herself indefinitely in hand-to-hand combat, lacked the physical size or strength to actually overcome an opponent in a bare-knuckled brawl if something did go terribly wrong. He stood up and started pacing, just to give himself something to do.
"Stop," Samara said, her eyes open and glowing. "Your agitation is distracting."
"You can hardly blame me when Shepard's the one being used as bait," he snapped back. God, what he wouldn't have given to throw Miranda or Jack at this problem instead of her. But Kaliya had insisted, and she always got her way.
"You do not have faith in her?" asked Samara calmly.
"It's not a matter of faith," he said hotly. "But if something happens to her because of Morinth, where will we be? What will happen to the mission? Did you ever consider that?"
The blue glow around the justicar disappeared, and she looked up at him from her seated position with suddenly cold eyes. "I gave it the same consideration that you did when you asked Shepard to aid you in killing your betrayer."
"Incidentally," she continued serenely as Garrus gaped at her in stunned silence, "I am curious as to why you did not kill him. You and I are not so different in our approaches, and I would not have hesitated to slay him."
"That's between Shepard and me," he said flatly. They stared at each other for a long moment before Samara looked away, and the tension eased. She closed her eyes again, returning to her meditation, and Garrus went back to the scope. Kaliya had left the dance floor--Garrus scanned the club for her, then spotted her following an asari to a more secluded booth in the back of the club. The asari looked up toward their direction, and he saw the spitting image of Samara, dressed in black.
Morinth. A cold chill ran up his spine, watching them talk. Somehow, despite all the terrifying people Shepard had faced and defeated, Morinth alarmed him the most. Maybe it was because she was completely alone for this. Maybe it was just the nature of Morinth's kills. Wordlessly, he tapped Samara's shoulder and waved her over.
The justicar peered through the scope, then nodded once at him. "Good," she said. "I knew Shepard would be able to get Morinth's attention." A few tense minutes passed, then Samara got to her feet.
"They're working their way toward the exit," she said, handing the rifle back to Garrus. "Do not attempt to follow me in."
"All I need is a line of sight to keep an eye on Shepard. I don't need to be inside the apartment for that."
Samara drew herself up to her full height. "Morinth is my daughter, Vakarian. I asked for Shepard's help, not yours."
Garrus never imagined he'd be in a situation where he needed to stand down an asari justicar, but he wasn't backing down on this. Not when Kaliya was by herself, unarmed and in the territory of an Ardat-Yakshi.
"I'm not losing Shepard again," he said, eyes flashing. "Not to the Collectors, not to the Reapers, and certainly not to your murderous daughter. But I did agree to this crazy plan, and I won't interfere unless she's in clear danger."
For a moment, he thought Samara might hit him. Then inexplicably, the justicar's face softened just a little, and she looked away from him.
"You doubt my ability to protect the woman dearest to you," she said in barely more than a whisper, before she turned back to him with the ghost of a smile. "I might take that as an insult, but given the circumstances, I cannot fault you. Stay close." And without another word, she turned and began walking along the catwalk toward the exit.
Garrus gaped at her, mandibles flaring, then hurriedly followed. He could hardly believe he'd heard Samara right. The woman dearest to him...
He'd nursed some impossible feelings for Commander Kaliya Shepard during their first mission together against Saren. How could he not? He and Wrex had stood beside her on every major mission, even fought Saren with her--twice. She may have returned those feelings--they were certainly very close--but any hope of that had died with her. He'd buried those feelings with her memory.
And now she was back, pulling his ass out of the fire again, and she clearly needed him more than ever, though she'd never say it aloud. He kept pace with Samara as the two of them made their way across the catwalks. No matter what the justicar said, he needed to be there. Just in case Kaliya needed him. He was never letting her go on a mission alone again, not after what had happened two years prior.
***
Morinth's apartment had large, wide windows and few places to hide. It was almost as though the woman was begging for a sniper to take her out. The thought only gave Kaliya Shepard a little comfort as she walked into the lion's den. She didn't even know if Samara had allowed Garrus to stay. And even if he had Morinth's head squarely in the crosshairs, it would still be two shots--one to shatter the glass, one to kill.
She was the picture of composure on the outside, smiling and at ease. The drink or two she'd had in Afterlife made her a little more relaxed, though certainly not enough to keep the fear at bay. She took a deep breath or two, calming herself on the pretense of looking around Mornith's apartment. A statue caught her eye, as did two weapons mounted on the wall. An assault rifle and a sword. Contingency weapons, but only as a last resort. She had to trust Samara now.
Samara's murderous daughter watched her with the cool, keen interest of a predator, and it made her blood run cold. Suddenly, irrationally, she found herself wishing for Garrus at her side, as he had been since she found him again on Omega. She shook it from her mind--she needed focus now more than ever.
Morinth sat down on the couch, watching her walk around the apartment. "You've got a lot of music here," Kaliya said, examining the sound system. Expensive. Sleek.
"Music is one of the most sublime expressions of emotion," Morinth replied. "Anger, jealousy, love. It's perfect for anything we feel, communication of sensation without words."
She walked over to the wide windows, looking down upon Omega. Kaliya came to stand beside her, pale fingers picking at the hem of her dress. Instinctively, she found herself searching the nearby buildings for the flash of a sniper scope. Maybe...just maybe--
Morinth drew a deep, contented breath. "Music is part of why I love clubs. People, movement, heat. I can still hear the bass, like the drums of a great hunt out for your blood."
She leaned against the couch and stretched, catlike. "But here, it's muted. And you're safe. Is that what you wanted, Shepard? Safety?"
Kaliya let herself laugh. It came out sounding a little hysterical, but Morinth didn't seem to notice. "Safety's just an illusion," she said with a smile. "And we're fools to believe otherwise."
That got a laugh out of Morinth too. "I like you, Shepard," she said. "And you're right. We're never safe, and yet some continue to strive for it. Where's the fun in that?"
She reached out and tugged at Kaliya's hand, pulling her back toward the couch. The Spectre had to resist the urge to pull away. "Some of us choose differently. Independence over submission. I think we share that, you and I."
Kaliya repressed a shudder as Morinth ran her gloved hands along the fabric of the dress. She closed her eyes to minimize her facial expression. The asari must have taken that as a sign of pleasure, because she felt the hands move to her shoulders, to the back of her neck. She swallowed hard, willing herself not to show any sign of disgust. She had to trust. She had to trust herself and Samara, that she would come to no harm.
She heard Morinth chuckle and pull her closer. "Playing hard to get, are we, Shepard?" she said. Kaliya's eyes flew open, and in that second, she knew she'd made a mistake.
Blue eyes turned black, and the world began to swirl. A pounding in her body, a pulsing in her head. Every whisper crackled, every movement of Morinth's hands on her skin like cold fire. Her limbs went slack under the touch, pulling from her control.
A sea of sensation and sound pulled her in toward those two onyx eyes. The bass of the club music in the distance rose to a roar, her body suddenly consumed with heat. Then cutting through it all like a knife, a clear voice echoing through the beating sound, beckoning her closer still.
Look into my eyes, and tell me you want me.
Floating. It was so easy to just float in the feverish delirium, let go and allow the voice to drive her. She felt her muscles moving of their own accord, hands fumbling forward.
Tell me you'd kill for me.
Killing was so easy for her. Always had been since she was a child on the streets of Earth. Why not kill with a purpose? Kill for those eyes boring into her, wiping away her burdens and her fears.
Anything I want.
Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. There was something wrong. Something flickered at the edge of her vision, just behind the eyes. She struggled to focus on it--why was that building in the distance so important? What was there, distracting her from the eyes? Another voice started to pull forward, one buried deep in the recesses of her burning mind.
Garrus.
Kaliya blinked, reeling, and the dream vanished into a vacuum. Garrus was in that building. Somehow, some way, she just knew. He had to be there. Everything came rushing back in a chilling wave--why she was there, and exactly what sat beside her.
She yanked herself out of Morinth's grasp. Her body felt clumsy and uncontrolled, her mind fogged with fever, but she was herself again. "Don't count on it."
The Ardat-Yakshi reeled back, eyes wide with surprise. "But you--" she stammered. "Who are you?" Realization dawned on her face as Kaliya hastily stepped back, body falling automatically into an unarmed combat stance.
Morinth shot to her feet, advancing on her. "Oh, I see what's going on. Looks like the bitch found herself a little helper!" Blue biotic energy surged around her body, and Kaliya ducked sideways just as the wall behind her shattered. But the force of the push caught her side, sending her skidding toward the windows.
She was fast, but Morinth was faster, fueled by desperation and hundreds of years of advantage. Before the Spectre could scramble to her feet, another wave of biotic force gripped her body, wrenching her into midair unceremoniously like a rag doll. Pain ripped through her body, but she refused to scream.
"Morinth!"
The door slammed open and Samara's voice rang out, but she skidded to a halt at the sight before her eyes. Her daughter, holding Shepard helpless above the glass.
"I don't know who she is, Mother," Morinth spat, "but take one more step and I swear I'll throw her to her death!"
Then out of nowhere, an earsplitting crack sounded behind them, and the window behind Morinth shattered. The Ardat-Yakshi's concentration broke for just a second, and Kaliya seized her chance. Her own biotics surged through her system, an expanding shell of energy sending Morinth skidding to the side to avoid the pulverizing force. She felt the stranglehold on her own body break and fell on top of the broken glass littering the floor, cursing under her breath as shards stabbed into her unprotected skin.
She could hear Samara yelling, furniture flying everywhere behind her as Morinth and Samara did battle, but her attention was for the building opposite. She caught a flash of movement, a hint of blue armor on an open balcony, and relief flooded her despite the pain.
"Shepard!"
She whirled around to see Samara trapped in a deadly biotic lock with her daughter. Without hesitation, she forced herself upright and held out a hand. The cuts on her body burned, but her aim was true, and Morinth reeled backward.
"End of the line, Morinth."
"And they call me a monster!" Morinth lunged toward her, but Samara got there first, her face a frozen mask. There was a scuffle, then Samara's footsteps as she advanced on her daughter.
"Find peace in the embrace of the goddess."
Kaliya shut her eyes and looked away, but Samara was mercifully quick. She heard Morinth's body collapse to the floor, then the justicar racing to her side.
"It's fine," whispered Kaliya. "I've had worse."
She opened her eyes and tried to give Samara a reassuring smile, but the poorly hidden guilt on the justicar's face made her cringe. She looked down at herself--cuts and scrapes covered her exposed arms and calves, with small rivulets of red running down them, and the left side of her dress was slowly turning purple with her blood. Three small shards of glass protruded from her left leg and side. It really did look bad, despite being mostly superficial damage.
"We have to get you back to the ship, Shepard," said Samara. She reached for her headset to radio Joker, but then the door to Morinth's apartment burst open a second time.
"Garrus," Kaliya said in relief. The turian stormed toward her, unceremoniously brushing Samara aside as he knelt beside her and easily scooped her up in his arms. She was so much lighter without her armor and weapons. He laid her down on Morinth's couch, his armor stained with little rivulets of red.
He was shaking uncontrollably with anger and fear. Kaliya put a hand on his chest, her fingertips leaving bloody trails. "It's really not as bad as it looks, Garrus," she said quietly. "Please, calm down."
Garrus ignored her and reached into his pack for some medigel, running the orange omnitool over her injuries. The anesthetic went in first around the shards still protruding from her body, then the medigel for her more minor injuries. He looked at the omnitool readout and gritted his teeth.
"I'm taking the glass out, Shepard," he said, unable to keep the shaking out of his voice. "Try not to move."
"We should return to the Normandy and the medical clinic onboard," said Samara. "I do not think--"
"That's right, you didn't think," Garrus snapped furiously, and the justicar actually took a step back. "Keep out of this before you make it worse." Kaliya tugged at his arm, trying to get his attention off of Samara. She had never seen Garrus so angry with a teammate in her life.
"Garrus, Samara, stop. We'll discuss this later in debriefing," she said firmly, and although she was in a shredded, bloodstained dress instead of her battle armor, she was still Commander Shepard. Garrus turned disdainfully away from Samara and looked at Kaliya, who closed her eyes and nodded.
She felt no pain, but rather three sharp pinches, then the cooling of the medigel. When she opened her eyes, the glass was out and most of her cuts had sealed. They were not completely healed, but no longer open, as though they'd had a few days or so to recover. She sat up gingerly, Garrus's arms supporting her back.
"Go on back to the Normandy and tell them we're on our way, and to prep the clinic as a precaution," said Kaliya to Samara. "Garrus and I will follow in a few."
The justicar bowed her head. "Of course, Shepard." She looked like she wanted to say something more, but Garrus was still there, crouched over Shepard, and instead she turned on her heel and left the apartment.
Kaliya looked up at Garrus. The look on his face as he met her eyes was unlike any she'd ever seen from him--anger, fear, relief danced in those predatory eyes, his mandibles twitching in agitation. He really had been terrified for her. She was still more or less supported by his arms, and she suddenly noticed how close he was to her.
Turians ran hot. She'd never noticed it before, but now she could feel the heat of his skin through his gauntlets, his warm breath on her face as he bent over her. He smelled like smoke and some sort of strange, heady musk.
"You could have been killed, Shepard," he said, his voice low and strained. "When we get back on that ship, Samara is in for--"
She interrupted him by putting a hand on his chest and pushing him away. "Samara is my responsibility, and she is 'in for' whatever I deem necessary," she said sternly. "She couldn't possibly have known that Morinth would try to take me hostage. Ironically enough, breaking free of Morinth's mental control was probably a bad idea."
Garrus blinked at her. "Is that what she was doing to you? I couldn't see exactly what was going on."
She allowed herself a small smile, but didn't answer. Ignoring Garrus's protests, she stood up gingerly. Everything felt fine, if a little stiff and slow from the anesthetic. "So you were keeping an eye on me," she said. "Thank you, Garrus."
She headed toward Morinth's bedroom, poking through the clothes. She couldn't very well go wandering around Omega covered in blood and expect no one to notice anything amiss. Wrinkling her nose at the thought of wearing Morinth's things, she grabbed a dark red shift and ducked into the bathroom to clean up.
Heavy footsteps, then a soft thunk. It sounded like Garrus had settled himself outside the door. "Are you sure you're all right, Shepard?" he asked.
Kaliya didn't answer immediately. Physically, she was fine. Mentally, she couldn't help but be a little rattled. But Garrus was here, just a few feet away. Her gut instinct told her that inexplicably, irrationally, she was safe. She shook her head and ignored it--she and Garrus were out of immediate harm, but they didn't have long before people came prying after the mess they'd made.
She cleaned up quickly, stepped into Morinth's dress, and opened the door. Garrus gaped at the sight of her, much as he had when she'd first put on the blue dress borrowed from Miranda, and she couldn't help but laugh.
"Classy, Garrus," she teased gently. "Though I suppose I deserve it, don't I? Morinth's things don't leave much to the imagination."
He blinked twice, then seemed to shake himself back to reality. "Erm...right, Shepard. Look, let's--let's just get going. This place gives me the creeps."
***
Miranda gave Kaliya a long-suffering look as she lifted the blood-stained, torn garment. "Can't even go to a club without getting yourself in trouble, Commander," she said dryly. "At least I lent you a cheap one."
Kaliya rolled her eyes at her second-in-command. "All right, so I owe you a cheap dress. Unless you want this one." She gestured to the red fabric on the medbay counter.
Miranda made a disgusted face and shook her head. "No thanks, Shepard. I know where that's been." She unceremoniously tossed both dresses into the compactor, earning herself a disapproving glare from Dr. Chakwas before she left the medbay.
"She's right, you know," said the doctor as she gave Kaliya a final once-over. "You really do have an uncanny ability to get yourself into trouble."
"I've noticed."
There was a soft hum from the medical equipment, then a beep. Chakwas scanned the readout and nodded, looking satisfied.
"It looks like Garrus did a damn good job patching you up, Commander," she said. "You'll be just fine. It was mostly superficial damage anyway."
"That's what I told Garrus. Hopefully he's calmed down a bit by now. I've never seen him so angry at a fellow crew member before."
A very strange expression flickered across the doctor's face. She opened the medbay door, and Garrus and Samara walked in, Garrus grim-faced and Samara deceptively calm. Dr. Chakwas excused herself and closed the door behind her, leaving the three of them in the medbay with a very awkward silence.
One that Samara thankfully broke soon. "I...should apologize, Shepard," she said, not meeting anyone's eyes. "Morinth--"
"No, Samara," said Kaliya, cutting across her. She hopped off the examination table and crossed her arms, scrutinizing them both. Garrus had not changed out of his armor. Streaks of rusty red still discolored some of the blue, and she frowned.
"We all knew it was dangerous trying to apprehend Morinth." She had assumed her calm, deliberate "commander" voice in an attempt to put everyone's minds at ease. "We knew the risks. That mission did not go perfectly, but it was no more or less dangerous than any other mission we've done, and I've certainly had far worse injuries before. It was a necessary risk for a worthwhile end."
The justicar relaxed a little. "Thank you, Shepard," she said, sounding relieved. They both turned to look at Garrus, who was still stubbornly silent.
"Garrus," said Kaliya softly. She waited until the silence got uncomfortable enough that he had to look up at her.
The turian scowled a little, but nodded. "Fine, Shepard," he said, still sounding a little sullen. "It's your mission."
Samara left after a few awkward seconds of silence, leaving Kaliya and Garrus in the room alone. She cast an eye over the rust-red on his armor and shook her head. "Aren't you going to clean that up?"
Garrus gave her an unfathomable look. "That was a lot of blood back there, Shepard," he said quietly. "You were a mess."
"We've been over this," she replied, a little impatience creeping into her voice. "Human superficial wounds look a lot worse than the same wounds on a turian."
"I know, Shepard," he snapped. "I just--" He let out a little growl of frustration and began pacing back and forth. "I know we had to take Morinth down. Even if it wasn't so important to Samara. You can't kill as many people as Morinth did and get away with it. I just wish it hadn't been you in there."
She knew Garrus cared more about this kind of thing than she did. Knew that while she saw missions in terms of risk and reward, cost and benefit, Garrus saw the people involved. It was part of why she kept him around. Multiple viewpoints were an asset. But he was unusually agitated about this.
"I've gotten used to being the one thrown into the fire," she said lightly, trying to calm him down.
"And I've gotten used to being in there with you."
The words spilled out before he could stop himself, but they were absolutely true, and she needed to hear them. He couldn't go through every mission with her giving him a heart attack every other hour like she had tonight. He needed to fight at her side rather than just standing watch and praying nothing happened to her.
Kaliya stared, then smiled. A rare, genuine smile, neither strained nor preoccupied. "I know," she said. "And...for what it's worth, I'm sorry for driving up your blood pressure."
Garrus chuckled. "Yeah, well, the dress certainly didn't help either."
The tension suddenly snapped, and she burst out laughing. It took the least second longer for Garrus to figure out exactly what he'd said.
"No, what I meant was that you weren't in your armor!" he began hastily. "And the dress exposed so much skin that you--" He stopped when she just laughed harder, bent almost double, supporting herself against the medbay counter. A sheepish smile spread across his face watching her. She looked so different when she was laughing--younger, carefree. As though she'd never heard of Saren or Reapers or any of it. He hadn't seen her look like that since...two years ago.
When she finally composed herself, she was wiping tears from her bright blue eyes. "Garrus," she said, still giggling, "you really should quit talking while you're ahead sometimes."
He shrugged, looking at her with warm eyes. "I try, Shepard." He took the opportunity to memorize the moment: her smile, her helpless laughter. It would only last so long.
His gaze lingered on the faint pink marks still visible against her pale skin. "You should get some rest," he said. "That beating you took from Morinth had to hurt."
"I'll go to bed if you clean my blood off your damn armor," she retorted.
A chuckle, and a shake of his head. "Fine. It's a deal." He watched her go from the medbay, glad that he'd been able to grant her a little bit of light and laughter...however unintentionally he'd done it. For the first time since she'd walked into Afterlife alone, he felt he could relax.
She was safe, for now, and he could breathe easy. Until the next life-or-death situation came up, at least.