Who: Shepard & Vakarian What: Days after the Reaper invasion, Garrus finally finds Shepard When: End of March Where: Remote area where a shuttle hit Rating/Warnings: Feels Status: Complete!
It was like a flash of lightning. The heat and the fire, the pressure of her finger on the trigger. It had been familiar like an old friend and a sadistic sort of deja-vu.
Maybe this time was the end, and Jane faced it with only a few regrets. Those regrets carried her through the flame. She dragged herself through the silent citadel until she found a shuttle. It was there she realized the Citadel had returned to its original home. With no idea how long she’d been out, or how long she’d crawled through the ruins, she set the shuttle’s course for Earth and passed out.
Fire and flame greeted her when she regained consciousness. The shuttle entered atmo hard and fast, streaking across the sky. The black reached up to grab her when it hit the ground.
Funny, that the Citadel had been the first place Garrus wanted to look into but that’d been gone elsewhere - where, he had no damn clue but he sure as hell hoped it hadn’t taken Shepard with it. His search had been frantic, not only on the ground but also among the stars. The Normandy’s scanners were put to use, but all the anomalies detected panned out to absolutely nothing.
The thing about Archangel, however, was that he was an incredibly stubborn bastard. He’d find her somehow, someway, and he hoped that there was still air in her lungs when he did.
But anything coming in and out of the atmosphere had been on his radar since the Reaper invasion, and when that appeared on the sensors he wouldn’t hesitate to investigate. He had trained himself on the UT-47 Kodiak enough to pilot it; this would be cakewalk considering this navigation point was from Point A to B, without anything shooting at him.
Smoke was the signal. Something crashed. The shuttle lowered to the site, and the doors hissed open to let him out. His glamour was on, a human sight for unwanted eyes, but his visor was equipped to detect any readings.
And they detected life.
The shuttle was in three pieces, each more battered than the last. Miraculously the cockpit had survived the most intact. The window had shattered and the console was collapsed. The chairs were piled on top of it all and Shepard was still strapped to one of them. Her chest rose and fell slowly, but nothing seemed to be missing, or bent wrong.
Something sparked, and the fuel was burning.
Garrus didn’t hesitate. Not taking his chances with damaged doors, he climbed through the what was left of the window and used his deceivingly human fingers to undo the straps and buckles. “You’re going to make it,” he growled, the fumes hitting his lungs but nothing a few hearty coughs couldn’t shake off - for now.
He’d worry about helping her regain conscious after he got her into the Kodiak. One arm under the crook of her knees, the other around her back, and he hoisted her up and out of the about-to-blow shuttle as safely as he could.
Shepard was dead weight, though as she was jostled she groaned. She thought she heard a voice at the edge of her consciousness, and could smell smoke. But if she smelled smoke, that couldn’t mean she was alive, could it?
The pain hit her like a truck, and as they approached the shuttle she laughed, the sound weak, but unmistakable.
He must be hearing shit. Was she laughing?
Once in, the Kodiak’s doors shut - he wouldn’t fly off right the hell now but in case something blew, they’d have protection. Garrus carefully set her on the floor, head cradled, and the visor did another detailed scan with her up close. Vital signs, bone scans to detect anything broken, functions of her cybernetics to make sure everything was still functional.
There was a second where his heart felt like it got caught in his throat from the realization she was alive. That she’d been found.
“Don’t ever do that again,” he groused, referencing to what she’d done to stop their living nightmare from becoming a full-fledged reality genocide. “Spirits, Shepard, talk to me. Open your eyes.”
Her implants were a little wonky, but nothing that a little TLC couldn't fix. Two cracked ribs and a broken one. Multiple lacerations and some puncture wounds that Shepard would consider 'mild' but would concern most other people. Her left arm had multiple third degree burns. Her armor had absorbed a lot of damage that might have otherwise crushed her or burned her to a crisp, and she’d blown out her biotic shields. But she was alive.
Her eyes fluttered open, and honestly Garrus's ugly mug was the most beautiful thing she'd seen all day. "I'll try to ... keep it to once in a life time. This doesn't look like a ... a bar. I'm alive, right?"
She'd lived. She hadn't expected to live. The laughter came again, and it hurt like hell.
He’d take alive. He’d take alive anyday, and the crap condition she was in could be mended once he’d brought her back to the Agency - but he wanted to at least get her comfortable for the ride.
“They’d be nice upgrades in here,” Garrus choked a chuckle, and now that she was conscious he had sat her up a little to transfer her over to the co-pilot seat. He wasn’t going to fly this thing with her unstrapped so she’d be knocked side to side. He was ready with water too from the equipment brought, and he undid the cap. “Hydration, Shepard. Drink this. Relax. They’re gone.”
“Put it on the list,” Shepard commanded. Her eyes started to close, and she forced them open again. Garrus had come for her. She’d never known if he or anyone else had in her dreams. But he’d come for her. “Love you, you..fucking...bird lizard man.”
Coughing, Jane had to wait a moment before she could try drinking. “Gone...Good. Just...good.”
That was the nicest thing she’d ever said to him, and he was glad to hear it - glad that it was all over, and even if the outcome remained so ambiguous in their dreams, they’d gotten some closure her. Garrus found her. There was a reason why Liara never wanted to put her name up with the rest on the memorial wall. She wasn’t joining Ash yet.
He made sure the seat belts secured her in. “Right back at you and your...human squish.” Krogans and turians alike had a habit of giving them shit for that. They were so fragile, while the former two had tough hides or protective exoskeletons that didn’t bleed when a paper cut them. “You’re going to make it. You’re banged up like hell but nothing you can’t handle - I’ll get you to Simmons for a proper lookover and medical care, but do me a favor and stay in bed for awhile.”
She might have tried to squeeze his shoulder, or frill, or something. Point being, she wanted to physically express her gratitude. Garrus was her best friend. Best everything. Best enough that she’d been considering formally introducing him to her less-than-stable sort-of-maybe-kind-of-not girlfriend, before this mess had happened.
“Promise I’ll stay in bed,” Jane said. It would probably be a promise she’d break but she’d at least try at first. Just for him.
She may have tried, but he caught her hand to squeeze in case it fell. “I appreciate any and all your attempts,” Garrus laughed, more like a relieved huff than anything, and then went to occupy the pilot seat. Coordinates punched in, systems ready to go. “Sit tight, Shepard. We’re bringing you home.”