So how long did I expect love to outweigh ignorance?

By the look on your face I may have forced the scale to tip

Shame pulses through my heart from the things I've done to you

It's hard to face but the fact remains that this is nothing new

I left you bound and tied with suicidal memories

Selfish beneath the skin but deep inside I'm not insane

Avenged Sevenfold - "Almost Easy"

Chapter 18 - Alternative Therapy

It felt like I could have gotten to Kelly's room and back three times over before the yeoman finally arrived, though in actuality it couldn't have been more than a few minutes. I suppose time will screw with you when panic sets in, which you would think any number of battlefield scenarios would have taught me. Then again, the stakes weren't usually so personal. It was just as I was beginning to wonder if I should have called Chakwas or Mordin after all when I heard the familiar swoosh of the door. She was still in her sleepwear, but was also carrying a small case that appeared to be medicinal. As the redhead entered the room, I allowed my eyes to move away from Teandra long enough to confirm it was indeed her before flicking them back. She was too unstable to take any chances with.

"What's going on, Vakarian?" she asked as she stood at the top of the stairs, taking in the form of the Commander as she spoke. While she couldn't have been happy with being cajoled out of bed in the middle of the night by an overzealous A.I., she was as fully awake and aware as any soldier would have been in a similar circumstance. I breathed a small sigh of relief before considering her question, watching as Teandra continued to rock back and forth, still murmuring to herself.

"I'm not really sure, Chambers. I've dealt with trauma before," That's an understatement, "but never on this level. Any tricks I know about how to handle it involve using it to break a suspect." Or calm Mom down, but that's a whole different story, and not one I think I'll EVER feel like sharing with anyone outside of Shepard.

She took several steps down before "Looks like PTSD. What triggered the episode?"

"PTSD?" My tone was one of disbelief. The same thing that had taken the Sidonis I knew from me on Omega was now trying to do the same with my Teandra? Oh hell no. Kelly misunderstood me, though.

"Post-traumatic stress disorder," she glared at me, snapping quickly, "are you going to help me diagnose her, or ask questions?" I started, looking at the woman sharply. Gone was the somewhat flighty individual of the galley and CIC, to be replaced by a calm and professional woman who seemed completely sure of herself in a situation that was damn near tearing me apart. I refocused, realizing that my instincts had been much more accurate than I ever could have guessed.

"We were starting to get, er, intimate when something set her off." I'm not sure why I was so hesitant to explain what had been happening, considering the Commander and I were both in a quite obvious state of undress. But instinct or not, Kelly had made known, pretty publicly in fact, her attraction to me. I fidgeted.

"She tried to kiss you." It wasn't a question. Her knowing stare would have made that evident even if her tone hadn't already.

"I wish I could say that was all, but yeah. Thing is, it seemed to be her switchblade that pushed her over the edge. It fell out of her bra…" I waited for confirmation that was the right word, given in the form of a curt but encouraging nod, before continuing, "and when she saw it, she lost it." I glanced quickly over to the corner where it had ended up, confirming it was still there, noticing the dark sheen was now dull in the dim lights. I looked back to Chambers.

She studied me critically for a few seconds before commenting. "She attacked you, didn't she?" Once again, while phrased as a question, the tone implied otherwise.

I glanced back towards Teandra, who had given no sign she had been listening at any point throughout the conversation. And yet somehow, I doubted that was true. She was still Commander Shepard, after all. At least, I hope she is.

"She started to, but it was almost as if there was an internal battle between two parts of herself, and one stopped her before she could even lay a hand on me. She dove onto the couch," I gestured minutely to the rocking figure, not wanting to startle Teandra, only to find her head once again buried in her knees "and hasn't said moved since."

She studied me, "What else did she do, or say? Anything?"

"She recognized I had some sort of connection to Jackson, and I think she still believes Finch is alive. Not much else." It never even occurred to me that the yeoman would most likely have zero idea who those names were or what they represented until after I'd spoken, but I never should have doubted the level of Chamber's nosiness. She pursed her lips for a moment, thinking.

Kelly nodded, finally, and laid the case she was carrying on Shepard's desk. It was opened to reveal several syringes and small glass bottles. Expertly, she chose one from each collection and inserted the needle into the top, drawing a measured amount of liquid out with a steady hand one by one. It seemed to be a primitive setup.

"Why not use one of the painless auto-injectors?" I asked, nodding at the device nestled in the kit.

She flicked her eyes at me before resuming her work, drawing liquid 'til the clear tube was three-quarters of the way full. "More familiar mode of delivery for the memories she's stuck in. Will probably disorient her less than the more modern medical tech."

"She won't let you touch her," I said, not sure how I knew that, but positive none-the-less. Call it arrogance, but I doubted that Teandra's aversion to contact was against me personally at this point. A sentiment Chakwas disagreed with, apparently.

"I think she will. It's you that triggered this response. She has no desire to bed me, or kill me. She shouldn't see me as a threat." Her eyes were still focused on the syringe, flicking the tip to get rid of the trapped air as she continued, "Speaking of which, put a shirt on, Vakarian. I want her sole focus on me."

I sputtered at the blatant statement, before finally trying words again, "But…" Then shook my head as I moved to do as she'd advised. I snagged my tunic from the floor near the door, still smelling of sweat and ylang-ylang, and slipped it on in a rush. For good measure, I snatched up that thrice-blasted blade and tucked it away as well, where it wouldn't risk coming under the Commander's gaze again.

Kelly, when I turned back around, was moving her gaze between the two of us. Observing, calculating, watching… this was definitely NOT the persona she had been portraying to the crew, and my estimation of her skills went up another notch. But still… could she handle something this important, this serious?

My hesitation must have shown on my face.

"Trust me." She replied almost dismissively, moving to sit on the far edge of the couch. She watched to see if her movements startled her patient before scooting a small bit closer. Her voice evolved into a gentle yet firm version of itself, one that seemed to be the specialty of doctors and teachers for younglings.

"Commander Shepard?"

"She's responding to Tandy," I supplied. Kelly glanced at me, furtively shaking her head at my interruptance, before repeating, "Commander, can you hear me?"

To my wonder, Teandra looked up just a little bit, two small and withdrawn bits of blue just barely visible over her arms, eyes locked on Kelly.

"Do you remember me? You do, don't you?" Shepard nodded, eying the needle now, her distrust as obvious as her fear in spite of her admittance of knowing the yeoman.

"I need to give you some medicine. A sedative." The redhead continued to eye her dubiously, gaze flicking from Kelly, to the needle, and back again. Something between a whimper and a growl came softly from her, muffled by her position against her still clothed legs.

Kelly continued in a calm voice, "Just a little pinch and it's all done. Is that okay?"

Teandra seemed to mull this over for a second, considering, until finally shaking her head.

"It'll help you sleep, Commander. Are you sure you wouldn't you like to rest for a little while?"

Shepard considered again, a little longer this time, until finally she extended a single arm tentatively. Kelly slid down the couch until she was inches away from Shepard, until finally she was within reach. I just knew something had to go wrong, but much to my surprise all Teandra did was jump slightly when the needle went in, right before she started shivering as her body began to relax and her adrenaline tapered off bit by bit.

"You look a little cold, Commander. Would you like to go lay under your covers?"

She shook her head, no, and Kelly gestured for me to retrieve the blanket instead. As I approached to cover her, though, she grabbed my hand, still not speaking. She pulled me down to sit next to her, wrapping up in the blanket with shaking arms before tucking a portion of it under her head, which then was unceremoniously lain into my lap, as if we'd done that a million times. I shot a glance at Chambers, finding no censure or warning there, only pity. As such, I reached down and began stroking her hair as Kelly watched on, smiling approvingly as Shepard's breathing slowed and her eyes closed almost instantly, light snoring permeating the room shortly thereafter.

With a sigh, Kelly zipped the small case back up, glancing at me pointedly.

"I think we might need to have a little talk, Garrus. Is that okay with you?"

"So you don't think she'd be open to more extensive therapy than her and my little talks, or meds, then?" Kelly had drawn her feet up underneath her, elbow propped on the back of the couch to support her head in her hands.

"Not a chance. She barely uses medigel, and the counselors after Akuze left her more than a little skeptical of head doctors." I glanced down, "Honestly, I'm surprised to find out she's even talking to you about any of it."

"Not sure medication is the answer, anyway, since the condition doesn't seem to be one I would consider controllable by adjustments to neurological chemicals. Otherwise, you can bet Ms. Lawson would have noted it in the Commander's medical files." Kelly hesitated for a minute, tapping her fingers against the small black case she still held, finally glancing up from her spot on the end of the couch. "There's one other thing that might work, if you two are planning on trying to work through this, but I'm hesitant to even suggest it. For one, it only works in very rare cases. For another, I need to ask you a question before telling you more." She looked at me critically, "How much experience do you have with S and D?"

I stared at her, not quite open-mouthed (though it was a struggle), taken aback by the sudden change in the conversation topic. That was probably near the top of the list of questions I'd never expect from a human, even Shepard when she was messing with me. Then I snorted, shrugging.

"Submission and Dominance? Isn't that a bit of a personal question?"

She tilted her head at me slightly, narrowing her eyes before going on in an brusque tone, "Do you want my help, or not?" She tossed her case on the table, crossing her arms.

I lightly brushed a talon across Teandra's forehead, reassuring myself that she truly was asleep before daring to respond to the question, and finding myself grateful for probably the millionth time in my life that turians couldn't blush.

"Yes, I've had experience. Are you satisfied?"

She smirked knowingly. "Usually, in that regard with turians. Hence the question; but I needed to be sure you weren't an anomaly. Almost every one I've ever known has dabbled in it somewhat, since predator and prey games play so heavily in the turian arousal and attraction process."

I groaned, mortified. "Damn, Kelly, why don't you try a little harder to make it sound dirty and clinical?" I found my free hand was more than capable of facepalming. This conversation was soo not going in any direction I could have expected. Her smile, if anything, widened slightly when I looked back up.

"No, clinical would be me explaining how asari physiology has made the males of any species the galaxy holds open to human women, despite ongoing taboos in multiple cultures, since they share similarities in physical form. It's actually quite interesting how the men in general have adapted to the facial features alone. There is a study going on at the moment exploring the reaction of varying male test subjects to human facial reactions, everything from smiling to masturbation…"

"Get to the point, Chambers," I interrupted, though I had to admit that I was somewhat relieved that at least some of her personality traits were still around. Helped me feel slightly less like a failure in the 'reading people' department.

"Right, um," she hesitated, as if trying to remember what we were discussing, "Well, clinically speaking you can't diagnose someone's illnesses, or decipher their personality, unless you know their motivations. Figure out what makes them tick; this includes sexual tendencies and preferences, which vary from person to person. I already know more than a few of Shepard's, since we had a pretty lengthy discussion about cross-species intercourse over dinner a few weeks back."

Teandra's comment after toying with the plating around my waist of "Wow. And I thought she was kidding..." made much more sense, now.

"You did what? Do you have any idea what she did to me with that information?"

She laughed quietly, commenting, "You're here, so I'd assume she put it to good use." My next question, where Kelly had gained the knowledge herself, seemed unnecessary after a half a seconds thought. Still, I found myself mulling the information over in my head before gently extracting myself from under Shep, pillowing the blanket carefully. Chambers watched me without words or judgement, simply waiting as I contemplated, scooting only inches away and dropping my head heavily into both hands.

I collected my tattered thoughts together after a full minute, then looked up and asked the question I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer to, "What does this have to do with submission and dominance games, Kelly? You aren't suggesting that I..." I couldn't say it, so I took a deep breath and tried it a different way, "that she...?"

"That's exactly what I'm suggesting." She waved at the sedated form of the Commander with her free hand, "Rape trauma, when not dealt with, can re-hardwire the victim's brain. Many victims become hypersexual, subconsciously figuring if they can't control whether or not they have sex they might as well make the best of things. She has that indicator, and a few others. Also, you two have joked and sidestepped those games before, if she told me truthfully. How many times has she made references to your handcuffs?"

"Actually, I prefer boska hide. Easier to cut off in an emergency." I said absently, my thoughts whirling. You could tell Kelly was trying to dumb down the medical terms for me, which I usually would have resented, but at the moment I was grateful for it. I am so not having this conversation. I am really not considering... what? What I've thought about doing since Omega? I snorted, shaking my head.

"Okay, stop dancing around, Chambers. How will bedroom games," which I don't think I'd ever truly thought about humans even playing, "help her overcome this?" I gestured at the room at large, indicating the sheer scale of it all, before I reached down to resume stroking the hair of the sleeping Commander. She sighed softly in her drug induced sleep, but otherwise didn't stir.

"In rare cases, dominance play helps work with that rewiring, allowing the sub to let go and enjoy themselves without reliving the trauma. There is also the possibility that it may trigger another episode, however, which is why I wouldn't have suggested it with an inexperienced dominant who would be unable to assess, adapt, and react to the situation." Kelly's eyes were unwavering as I looked up to meet them, absent the mischief that I was sure would be there despite the topic.

My mandibles twitched as another question rose. "Wouldn't it make more sense for her to be the Dom?" I tilted my head, asking with genuine curiosity, "In joking with others, which in retrospect I now realize might not have all been banter, that was the impression she always gave off." Especially with Alenko, I thought with an unexpected half smile.

One Kelly ignored. "Her past experiences always involved alcohol to dull her senses, or were as a result of the needs of the baser personality she displays on the battlefield, which is going to be much more 'brat-like'. If this is what you want, what you both want, you have to understand the psychology of not just human rape, but her individual experiences, and overcome them."

Baser personality... what a strangely benign way to talk about the Widow. Was seriously hoping that bitch was gone for good. Still, 'brat-like' I may be able to work with.

"Personally, if I ever have a say in the matter, I'm condemning all rapists to a similar execution that I give slavers. Just ask that guy on Omega. Oh, wait, you can't, can you?"

She rolled her eyes, recrossing her legs. "Quit changing the subject, Vakarian"

"Can you blame me?"

"Yes. Now shut up and listen. She's under so much pressure on a daily basis to be in charge of everything, she'd naturally gravitate towards sub behavior anyway to alleviate stress in sexual situations. Submissives are able to know they are giving their partner exactly what they need without having to play games or guess, and since their own arousal is usually derived from the pleasure of their partner, it takes the pressure off of the dominant as well. A true submissive to dominant relationship, if there is the right amount of trust involved that everything stays in the bedroom, is the perfect situation for a person in a command position like hers. Power executives on Earth were the first to make public this tendency. There was even a television show based on this idea. 'Beggars and Choosers,' I think it was called..."

She must have sensed my growing impatience at her history lesson, because she cleared her throat, getting back to the point.

"As I was saying, though, when rape trauma is present, this doubles the likelihood that the victim will be unable to play any role but submissive, due to the ingrained emotional response of that kind of trauma. There was a doctor back on Earth that put it best, I think. What was his name… right," she snapped her fingers, waving her hand at me, "Michael J. Bader. He even wrote a book about it. He said, 'It is quite common that children who were abused grow up and develop sexual fantasies loosely based on their abuse. The adult indulging in a fantasy of sexual surrender or abasement is actually saying to herself: "I'm recreating a terrifying or traumatic scene, but this time I'm in control because I'm scripting the scene ..."'"

I did mention the experienced part, right? I'm sure I did.

I crossed my arms, mirroring her, "Because the submissive is the one who holds all the power, and can stop the actions with the safeword." It wasn't a question.

"You do have a brain under all that brawn, don't you?" she responded, smiling, "That's right. And the weird thing is, that type of response increases exponentially in the case of childhood assault, multiple rapes, or situations where the victim had a respect or emotional connection to the attacker. Or, come to think of it, if force or threat of force is used." She shook her head, "I've read her files, all of them, even the ones she doesn't know I've seen. It sounds like this Finch character may have been that influence."

"That was him, alright. On all counts." I paused, digesting what she'd just said with total disbelief. Finally, unable to keep the sarcasm out of my voice, I restated what she was saying. "So let me see if I've got this right: You want me to tie Shepard up, tell her I'm screwing her whether she likes it or not, and wait to see what she does?"

The grin that Kelly shot me really should have bugged me more. It really, really should have. But my brain was otherwise occupied with the dream I had been fighting off the entire conversation:

Her hands are secured to the headboard, the silken bindings ripped from the garment she had been wearing so shortly before. I have a hold of that glossy auburn hair, talons gently caressing the soft skin of her back, the motion eliciting a shiver from her. Then, ever so slowly, I enter her for the first time, reveling in the softness and the never ending heat. It feels like home, the sound of her calling my name the most erotic thing I've ever heard. I lean forward, possessively nipping her shoulder as I move within her, enjoying the control as much as the feel of her clenching around me with so much need…

I had been a darker man then. She'd been dead. There was nothing wrong with a little nighttime fantasizing… and then she'd shown back up. One look at her face and I'd buried those images back down deep, sure that there was no possibility that those sorts of things were appealing to the soft skinned human even if Teandra and I were to ever consider... things.

And here was a doctor basically prescribing it word for word. The irony was almost beyond belief.

"Well when you put it that way... yep, that's exactly it," the yeoman's words pulled me forcefully back to the present, and she continued with another chuckle, "But don't forget that safeword."

That was it. I'd had more advice and ideas thrown at me during the conversation than any man should be expected to handle. I needed to think, to absorb the information. But first, a subject change… "I think I've got one she'll appreciate. 'Apples.'"

A laugh, followed by another eye roll, "She subjected you to Castle, too, didn't she?"

"However did you guess?" I thought for a minute. "But you've forgotten one other little problem, Kelly. That 'baser personality?' It's been hiding pretty well since she was rebuilt; or, at least, I haven't noticed its presence, even last night. But then again, the she also has a tendency to pop up when things get heavy, as you yourself pointed out. I can't ignore her existence."

"And you shouldn't. But if this idea works, and I say if because I did point out that this only works in rare cases, it should cow that part of her, too."

I sighed heavily, not sure I would get an answer to my next question, or if I truly wanted one.

"What is the Widow, anyway? Did you two explore that in your little discussion?"

Kelly was non-plussed, or decided to ignore my jab at her ever so helpful conversation with Shepard. "Not directly, but there was some indirect discussion, and I have a few ideas on that. Normally, I wouldn't tell you even if we had, since it violates doctor-patient confidentiality. However, considering she keeps insisting she isn't my patient, I'll make an exception this time.

"It's not actual dissociative identity disorder, or schizophrenia, or any other number of mental disorders that give specific 'personalities.' Why? To put it simply, because she is aware of the other woman's presence, and they 'speak' to each other as if they are two people in the same body. For all intents and purposes, they are the same woman, just different halves of the same whole; her conscience and her survival instinct. You are probably the only man who knows even close to everything about her past, but even with that information I couldn't diagnose her as insane. Otherwise, I would be suggesting medication or surgical treatment instead of this," She clicked her tongue for a moment, as if contemplating how to put her thoughts into words. "She is simply torn in her desires, between the person she wants to be and the person she has always been told she should be. When she figures out where she wants her life to go, and what direction she wants to take in it, I have a feeling that the 'Widow,' as you called her, will either fade away in obsoletion or become a more ingrained part of who the Commander is."

Having garnered that answer, I braved another one. "Another thing I don't understand," I pointed out with a sigh, hating the words even as I spoke them, "But how can someone attain her level of command with such extreme problems? It's not like turians are immune to mental disabilities and disorders, but we wouldn't give someone with them a command position."

Chambers, now lounging against the other end of the couch, tapped her chin thoughtfully. "With her history, I'm actually surprised she's as sane as she is. And from what you've both told me, it sounds as if the only time the sort of reaction she had tonight pops up is on the battlefield and during sexual intercourse. On the battlefield this so called 'Widow' would be a boon, as I would guess Akuze probably indicated. The second would seem more problematic, but..."

Something in my brain clicked, truly clicked, that moment. That revelation hit me hard, my head dropping back against the top of the couch while I studied the ceiling.

I finished the statement for her, "...it only becomes an issue if she's sober." I felt, more than heard, Kelly move her head in a nod.

Riza, this was my fucking fault, wasn't it? At least, tonight's little portion of hell for Teandra was.

I inhaled, then exhaled a shuddering breath. This was… well beyond anything I could have planned for. Well beyond easy… but we'd both said we didn't want or expect easy, hadn't we?

I shoved that aside, eyes still studiously skyward, and redirected my thoughts back to the original point. "So it's that simple? Shepard gets happy and that crazy bitch in her head goes away?" I looked back at the yeoman.

"Is happiness ever a simple thing, Officer Vakarian? How many people do you know who can say they are truly happy with themselves or their lives? I know only two, and I myself am one of that number." She grinned, unabashedly, and for the first time since she'd entered the Commander's quarters I truly saw a glimpse of the Kelly Chambers we all knew. "For all the criticism I receive for my tastes, preferences, and social demeanor, I can promise that when I fall asleep at night, I'm pleased with the woman I am. As is my partner, for a while, if truth be told."

She winked with finality, getting up to leave, and I looked at her with new eyes. "You know what, Kelly, I think we've all got you all wrong."

She fixed me with a smirk, "That's what I intend. People who don't like talking to 'counselors' will also tend to be the type of people that will say things around a bubbly personality and figure she'll forget it all by tomorrow. The only people who know about my little act are in this room, actually. That was why Shepard and I had dinner in the first place: so she could make sure I wasn't a Cerberus plant to spy on her, once she'd begun to realize I was playing the crew. It only took ten minutes with me for her to realize that concept was ridiculous; I just really, really like people. However, it put us in a perfect venue to discuss her little problem with you." She grinned, "It was quite an interesting discussion for her, I think, since I doubt she'd ever been able to have that conversation with a truly experienced xeno before. She was intrigued by more than a few things we talked about, to say the least." She winked again, "You are one lucky guy, if you take her up on her offer. I passed on quite a few fun tricks."

I was sure my carapace would have damage the next day, as hard as my taloned palm came against it. "Thank you sooo for that little tidbit of information, since I wasn't already almost driven to distraction around her."

She laughed, moving towards the door. "Stay with her, if it's not too much trouble. She's going to want to see a friendly face when she wakes up, and yours would be especially nice, since she's going to feel guilty about how things turned out." She hesitated, "Thanks for calling me, Vakarian. I know you've been avoiding me since that whole 'big hug' comment."

She exited without waiting for an answer, silence descending on the room, leaving me with only my thoughts and Teandra's heavy breathing. I resumed stroking her hair, allowing myself the luxury of time to process everything that had happened.

Mom had been prone to an episode or two in her time, as the disease that gripped her took more hold and she became less and less lucid. True, the scientists speculated it was due to a physical problem, but that didn't change the fact the similarities between the two women were there.

"Pika-pooka, they stole my rite-band." The voice on the other end of the line is angry, almost panicked, as I take the call. I try to keep my tone level and calm as I respond.

"Mom, you quit wearing your rite-band over twenty years ago. Nobody stole it."

"Why would I quit wearing it? I'm telling you, someone broke in and stole my rite-band. I'm calling an officer to come investigate."

"And Mom, I'm telling you, you stopped wearing your band when you separated from Castis. You keep the bracelet in the top of your closet, left hand side, with your rifle and the clan Terrenta veil." My calm insistence seems to have no effect on her, her temper rising in spite of my acceptance.

"It is in no such place! And why would you talk such nonsense about your father? We aren't..." she stops, almost whispering in sorrow as she seems to remember. "Wait... we did, didn't we?"

"Yes, Mother."

"I'm sorry, sweetie. I didn't mean to..."

"It's okay, Mom. Are you better now? I go on shift in ten minutes, but I can get one of the guys to cover for me."

"No, no. I'm fine. Solana is on her way..." her voice is hurt, still somewhat confused, but I know Sol handles her better when she's like this.

"How soon will she..." I hear my sister's voice call out in the background, "Mom! I'm home!"

That evening, after a tense shift with Shelaya, I'd had a long and heartfelt discussion with Sol about Mom's condition. Her memory was getting worse, and no amount of depression over Mishta's death could explain that. We'd both agreed that she would probably need to see a specialist soon, just to rule out anything major. The results had been completely unexpected, and we'd been moving from doctor to doctor and expert to expert ever since. That was seven years ago, and life had never been simple ever again after that diagnosis.

My experiences with Mom were the only reason I wasn't in a complete panic at that moment. Well, that and the knowledge that it was my insistence that I wouldn't attempt to have sex with Teandra if there was alcohol involved that had caused the whole damn situation. She had tried to warn me. Had all but ordered me to look at the information on her last encounter while sober; but I had been stubborn about it, determined I could handle whatever she could do to me. On one level, I had been right, but it didn't change the fact that the sleeping form next to me would still be awake and (relatively) sane if I hadn't pushed my morals on her.

One way or the other, though, nothing could be settled until she woke up in the morning. And she certainly didn't need to spend the night on the couch.

I stood slowly to avoid disturbing my charge, turning to look down at the woman. The drugs were obviously not the most restful form of sleep for her, because even now her face was contorted in pain as I watched; an unfamiliar sight, since I always cherished the innocent smile she bore while at rest. It was just another indicator of her state of mind, and I'd be damned if I'd let her face this alone. Not when there was something I could do about it, as reluctant as I was to introduce the things Kelly had talked about.

I scooped up the tiny form in front of me, not for the first time wondering at how someone who was so small could have caused such a great wave of change throughout the galaxy at large. Her breath was light against the thin material of my undershirt, and I lay her down on her bed, curling around her in the most protective gesture I had at the moment.

What Chambers was asking was ludicrous. Submission and dominance games… well, it's not like I hadn't already pictured the idea. But I never intended to ever introduce them. Fantasies were exactly that, nothing but mental porn, and the idea of Shepard even finding them appealing was… what? Crazy? I wasn't sure I even knew what that word meant any more.

But none of that mattered, because there was one fact that I couldn't overlook.

I had vowed, back at the beginning when she'd found me on Omega, that my new purpose in life was to protect her at all costs. This, under it all, was just an extension of that. I would do whatever it took to save her, even if it were only from herself.

#####

I opened my eyes with reluctance, trying to decipher the sluggishness of my movements and thoughts, and the clenching of my heart.

Something's wrong.

I felt Garrus' familiar warmth at my back, his still form a situation that caused me both wonder and trepidation. I wanted to turn and look at him, but there was a blanket of dread over me that was more powerful than the sedative. My limbs weighed as much as an Elcor each, my mouth and head full of cotton.

Wait… sedative... why had I been sedated? For how long?

I remembered the movie day clearly. I hadn't been drinking, so the fuzziness in my memory made no sense. I remembered grabbing Garrus on the way upstairs, remembered removing our clothes in our frantic state... then… Red coming forward, trying to...

"Oh Goddess, no. No, nonononono. What did I do?" My breathing took on a frantic pace as I fought the drugs, turning in a panic to search for a pulse, or breath, or anything. His eyes were closed as his face came into view, and my heart all but stopped anew at the stillness of his body.

Please, don't let me have hurt him. Please. I can't lose him. Not like this.

"Garrus?" My voice was all but a whisper, an almost silent plea. Or a prayer. One that was actually rewarded, for once.

His eyes flew open without hesitation, face indecipherable as his gaze met mine. Relief washed over me, leaving me weak as I rushed to find out exactly what she… no, what I, had let loose. I raised the arms that had been so heavy before with new vigor, resting a palm behind each mandible as I met his eyes.

My voice was a rushed, harsh sound, breathing becoming less important than my questions. "What did I do to you, afeni? What did I say? What happened? Are you hurt? Please tell me I didn't do anything to..." My rambling voice rose at the same pace as my hysteria, my hands wandering over him all the while to reassure myself that there were no wounds, no blood, no under-plate bruising caused by my cybernetic strength.

His arm on my waist got stronger, if that were possible, as he said one simple phrase in a soothing voice, "I'm fine, little Spectre." He placed his forehead firmly against my own, continuing, "The question is, are you?"

I watched his face, looking for the fear that would have to paint it, or the condemnation of the murderer I was. But try as I might, I couldn't find it, mostly because it wasn't there. The only thing I saw was patience as he awaited my answer. The answer to a question that was ridiculous for him to be asking in the first place.

"Am I okay? I don't know, Garrus. Answer my questions, and I'll answer yours." I still couldn't see the rest of his body, under all the covers, but his breathing didn't seem to be impeded now that I was listening for it, and the rise and fall remained steady and unhitched.

"Nothing. You did nothing."

"But..."

"No buts. We aren't going to discuss it right now, other than for me to let you know that you didn't hurt me, or manage to scare me away."

I tried to pull away from him, only to find his hold unbreakable. Or maybe it was the sedative. Yeah, we'll blame that, and not the treacherous part of me that didn't want to run away anymore, in spite of the gut-wrenching feeling that some irrevocable damage had been done. I buried my face in my hands, only to have the talons on my waist move as he pulled them away. He moved up, placing his forehead against mine once again, eyes shining when he spoke.

"Everything is just as it was this morning, little Spectre. I'm still here, we're both still alive, and that's all that matters right now. Is that clear?" There was a commanding tenor to the familiar flange, as well as a solid conviction radiating from him with every word. I felt my heart start to calm its insistent and panicked beating, because the one unalienable truth in my life was that if Garrus said everything was fucked to hell, it usually was. But if he said everything was alright, it would be.

And yet...

"We can't do this again… I can't… I can't risk…" I held back tears, but only just, as my breathing stuttered bit by bit from the effort. I had never, in my entire life, been as horrified as I was in that moment. No reaper, no collector, no thresher had ever caused me the level of panic I was now experiencing at the mere thought that Red had tried to hurt, no destroy, Garrus. My warrior and my companion. My partner, comrade, and friend. And she'd almost succeeded.

"Shh… later. Not now. Now isn't the time, Tandy."

I stared at him, eyes watering anew at his use of Elayne's nickname. It reassured me more than I probably had any right to be.

"Okay." I dragged in a deep breath, let it out slowly, then repeated. The third breath became a yawn as I exhaled, and his arms encircled me once again, cradling me into his chest. I managed one more word, whispering, "Later."

His chuckle rumbled next to me. "Get some rest, little Spectre." His voice was still calm, still indulgent, almost… happy?

I shook my head, peeking up. "I'm scared I'm dreaming. I don't want you to leave."

I felt his mandibles flutter across my cheek as he spoke from so close, his eyes closing in a gesture of unearned trust. "I'm not going anywhere. Not now, not ever. Now sleep."

I ignored the implications of his statement, not caring at that moment what it meant, as my heart cracked piece by piece by his very continued presence. I let my eyes close, my cheek warmed by his breath. His heartbeat, so much faster than a human's, but so familiar, was the lullaby that granted me rest.

A dreamless, healing rest.