If this is the part where you tell me I'm putting the whole galaxy at risk, you can save your breath for someone who needs to hear it.
[To her credit, her tone is mild enough as she falls into step beside him. They're not supposed to be interrupting his patrol for this and it's a conversation she'd rather have on the move anyway - means there are other things to focus on than how Garrus looks at her.]
I'm not upset with you. But there's something Warriorhead did say that you might need to hear. It's not just us and our worlds they'd bring up for charges if they suspect mutiny. It's your trainees, too, Shepard. The training program. And that got me to stop and think, but that's not the turning point.
[And now he can't look at her, has to look down.]
There's kids I'm teaching too. And we're here. I'm here. There's not gonna be some trip home sometime. I...
[Another shake of his head. He knows he has to do this. Make this call, this decision, tell her. There isn't another way. But that doesn't even come close to making it simple.]
I've gotta do something I've never been good at. Let the chain of command do its thing. I have to let your leads give you intel, once you're Green again.
[She keeps walking, all forward momentum. If something sharp and certain in her snaps shut like a folding knife, it doesn't show in the length of her stride or how she handles the gun slung at her side or in the lines of her face. She drops her attention briefly to the fruit in her palm, turning a few pieces over for inspection. They're older; dried or not, they might not be the best thing she could be eating right now. But one must pass muster because a moment later, she puts one in her mouth - chews, swallows. It sticks in her throat.]
[She shows less than she used to. But he's not watching her right now because he knows there's no way the news can go over well. He knows it will hurt. Breaking up the fight way back on Ajna between her and Crichton had hurt her and this is even further.]
No. I...
[Garrus stops, now. Turns to her.]
I'm not...
[And even as he starts the statement, he has a feeling it doesn't matter that he's not doing this lightly. She'd shut him out, she hadn't let him back in, and why would she let him now? His body language isn't nearly so contained as he looks down at the ground. One of his oldest friends is missing, and now he may be losing his dearest.
When he speaks again, his voice is mostly calm and he's resuming the patrol. His subharmonics, though, traitors that they are, are ragged.]
Anything that doesn't have to be passed down the chain of command I'll give you. And while you're Grey, I can be a contact point. But I can't sidestep other leads. We're not... We're not on the Normandy anymore. And I can't follow two commanders and hope to serve both well.
[The information isn't really the issue - being honest, it's not like there was a whole hell of a lot going around anyway. From start to now, the tools and data available to them seemed to amount to 'sit pretty and wait for the inevitable' whatever Garrus and the small handful of evidently competent leads (there's a vicious little part of her that won't afford them all the courtesy of respect) might be doing to combat that. Hell, give her a second and she wouldn't even be concerned about it - it's not like asking Aeryn for intel is really that much more complicated than getting it from him - but that's not really what he's talking about, is it?
That's the part that puts her sharp as they draw to a halt, the part that shows in her face like she's been struck. The line of her back goes all ramrod straight and for a moment there's real open shock in her expression. Feels a lot like being on a space walk and finding him with a knife in his hand and her safety line cut.
On the plus side he hasn't kicked her off the hull into the vacuum yet.
She opens her hand, finds the dried fruit crushed and sticky in her palm. From one blink to the next she's lifted the line of her chin and set her jaw, but there's pretending she doesn't feel it (not angry, just weighted and low) when she speaks, her tone betraying her. Seems like that's going around.]
Do you mind if we take a detour? I need something from my quarters.
[The implication being that she expects-- no, is asking him to come with her.]
[He sees the reaction and it cuts deep... but it's only fair that it does.]
I don't mind.
[His voice is quiet. He's said the hard things, now, done the damage. All he can hope is that there's some way to repair the hurt he's caused.
He takes the turn. The patrol is important, but he's also looped through this round a couple of times already today and he's still in the area, still covering. It's a tightrope he's on, balancing the Neheda's needs against those of his friend, or the person he hopes is still his friend. He just has to learn how to adapt and not be as clumsy as he's been these last few days. And he also needs to learn how to talk about the harder stuff.]
If we get sent into Hell, again, I've still got your back. This isn't me wanting to end the friendship, or even distance myself from you. Vakarian without Shepard... that's a naive spacecop who doesn't know the difference between light grey and dark grey and doesn't care.
[She turns on her heel, making her way up the corridor toward her quarters - lets him rattle on for a while before:]
Garrus. [Cuts over him. A beat where she's sure he's listening--] Stop talking.
[Just give her a minute. Throwing more ordinance at the problem isn't always the solution, much as she's loathe to admit it and right this second between where they are and the doorway to her assigned room, she just needs a few clicks of quiet so the thing in her chest that is tight and strangling will start to mind its own business.
Hopefully he'll give her that, let them move along the hall with little more than their footfalls to punctuate it.
The room, when they get there, is empty - thank god. She makes for her bunk, clearly hers by the strictly ordered way its made up, the utter lack of ornamentation or collection of nicknacks in the corners or along the back wall; when she gets there, she crouches and pops open the lower compartment - feels around in the storage space until her hand closes on an ammo box. She slides it free, pops the lock and produces a bottle of liquor without much ceremony.]
Here. [Gripping the bottle by the neck, she flips it over and holds it out to him with the clear expectation that he accept it.] It's dextro friendly. I picked it up on Selena.
[There's so much more to say, but the last thing going on will do is fix matters. Garrus shuts up and follows her in silence. The silence continues as she pulls stuff out and then offers the bottle to him.
Garrus takes it, not even really looking at the label. Why now? But it reminds him of something he's been holding on to for a while and just hasn't had the chance to give it to her. ...And won't, yet. It would seem too much like a cheap gesture. Later. Later, when he can grab it and bring her over and there's nothing hanging over their heads, and please let them have that day.]
There are even a couple of people here that can drink it now. Plus I've got some of the nice neutral-chirality wine. Could make an evening of it, one of these days.
[His voice isn't as casual as he'd like it to be, making the sentence more into a question than a statement as his eyes search hers. They're not Commander and officer anymore, but they could still keep the other part of what they had, if she's willing.]
[She's not the kind of person who makes a habit of shrugging - or if she ever was, it's something she'd mostly forgotten how to do in the thirteen years since she enlisted. But she shrugs now because she doesn't really know what to say to that. It's not a no, not a yes, just--
(Because she gets it, understands the point of all this. His reasoning isn't bad, she just wants him to be angrier about it. More offended. He's supposed to be mad for her, not apologetic about the rings the CDC is forcing him through. They're both supposed to be angry about it.)
She leans back down, snapping the ammo box shut.]
Let's not make any plans while we've got this crap happening on deck. Knowing our luck, the whole damn ship will blow up before then. [It's a mild kind of evasion as she wrestles the box back into the storage space under the bunk. She's not ready to give him anything more than that. Not yet. When she's done, she straightens - dusts her hands on her hips even though there isn't anything really to wipe off.]
[His mandibles are drawn as close to his face as they can be. Congratulations on the promotion. It sounds on the level, real, but he knows what it has to cost. He's served under her for almost her entire command, and the only time he hadn't been there the Normandy got blown apart. He's been with her through just about everything, and now he's a superior officer, having to make that line clear on the topic of duty, and there's nothing he can do to soften the blow.
But there it is. There's nothing he can do.
With a swallow, Garrus nods. He'd been proud of the promotion, filled with thoughts of helping more, of saving people, and there are two dead and he doesn't know what even to do about it other than keep patrolling. Isaac and Isabelle. He hadn't known them. The hurt isn't personal. But it seems like something Green should have been able to prevent, or even by now avenge.]
Thank you, Shepard.
[He can't call her commander. It will undermine everything he's said and probably feel like a slap in the face to her. Garrus takes another breath, nods again. Best not to draw this out. Best to give her some room, and then work on fixing it after she's had time to breathe.]
I should... hah. I'll go. But if you need me, you know how to find me.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
If this is the part where you tell me I'm putting the whole galaxy at risk, you can save your breath for someone who needs to hear it.
[To her credit, her tone is mild enough as she falls into step beside him. They're not supposed to be interrupting his patrol for this and it's a conversation she'd rather have on the move anyway - means there are other things to focus on than how Garrus looks at her.]
I thought we agreed to let this one go.
no subject
[He looks back at her.]
I'm not upset with you. But there's something Warriorhead did say that you might need to hear. It's not just us and our worlds they'd bring up for charges if they suspect mutiny. It's your trainees, too, Shepard. The training program. And that got me to stop and think, but that's not the turning point.
[And now he can't look at her, has to look down.]
There's kids I'm teaching too. And we're here. I'm here. There's not gonna be some trip home sometime. I...
[Another shake of his head. He knows he has to do this. Make this call, this decision, tell her. There isn't another way. But that doesn't even come close to making it simple.]
I've gotta do something I've never been good at. Let the chain of command do its thing. I have to let your leads give you intel, once you're Green again.
no subject
Does this include data that isn't team specific?
[It's a simple enough question.]
no subject
No. I...
[Garrus stops, now. Turns to her.]
I'm not...
[And even as he starts the statement, he has a feeling it doesn't matter that he's not doing this lightly. She'd shut him out, she hadn't let him back in, and why would she let him now? His body language isn't nearly so contained as he looks down at the ground. One of his oldest friends is missing, and now he may be losing his dearest.
When he speaks again, his voice is mostly calm and he's resuming the patrol. His subharmonics, though, traitors that they are, are ragged.]
Anything that doesn't have to be passed down the chain of command I'll give you. And while you're Grey, I can be a contact point. But I can't sidestep other leads. We're not... We're not on the Normandy anymore. And I can't follow two commanders and hope to serve both well.
no subject
That's the part that puts her sharp as they draw to a halt, the part that shows in her face like she's been struck. The line of her back goes all ramrod straight and for a moment there's real open shock in her expression. Feels a lot like being on a space walk and finding him with a knife in his hand and her safety line cut.
On the plus side he hasn't kicked her off the hull into the vacuum yet.
She opens her hand, finds the dried fruit crushed and sticky in her palm. From one blink to the next she's lifted the line of her chin and set her jaw, but there's pretending she doesn't feel it (not angry, just weighted and low) when she speaks, her tone betraying her. Seems like that's going around.]
Do you mind if we take a detour? I need something from my quarters.
[The implication being that she expects-- no, is asking him to come with her.]
no subject
I don't mind.
[His voice is quiet. He's said the hard things, now, done the damage. All he can hope is that there's some way to repair the hurt he's caused.
He takes the turn. The patrol is important, but he's also looped through this round a couple of times already today and he's still in the area, still covering. It's a tightrope he's on, balancing the Neheda's needs against those of his friend, or the person he hopes is still his friend. He just has to learn how to adapt and not be as clumsy as he's been these last few days. And he also needs to learn how to talk about the harder stuff.]
If we get sent into Hell, again, I've still got your back. This isn't me wanting to end the friendship, or even distance myself from you. Vakarian without Shepard... that's a naive spacecop who doesn't know the difference between light grey and dark grey and doesn't care.
no subject
Garrus. [Cuts over him. A beat where she's sure he's listening--] Stop talking.
[Just give her a minute. Throwing more ordinance at the problem isn't always the solution, much as she's loathe to admit it and right this second between where they are and the doorway to her assigned room, she just needs a few clicks of quiet so the thing in her chest that is tight and strangling will start to mind its own business.
Hopefully he'll give her that, let them move along the hall with little more than their footfalls to punctuate it.
The room, when they get there, is empty - thank god. She makes for her bunk, clearly hers by the strictly ordered way its made up, the utter lack of ornamentation or collection of nicknacks in the corners or along the back wall; when she gets there, she crouches and pops open the lower compartment - feels around in the storage space until her hand closes on an ammo box. She slides it free, pops the lock and produces a bottle of liquor without much ceremony.]
Here. [Gripping the bottle by the neck, she flips it over and holds it out to him with the clear expectation that he accept it.] It's dextro friendly. I picked it up on Selena.
no subject
Garrus takes it, not even really looking at the label. Why now? But it reminds him of something he's been holding on to for a while and just hasn't had the chance to give it to her. ...And won't, yet. It would seem too much like a cheap gesture. Later. Later, when he can grab it and bring her over and there's nothing hanging over their heads, and please let them have that day.]
There are even a couple of people here that can drink it now. Plus I've got some of the nice neutral-chirality wine. Could make an evening of it, one of these days.
[His voice isn't as casual as he'd like it to be, making the sentence more into a question than a statement as his eyes search hers. They're not Commander and officer anymore, but they could still keep the other part of what they had, if she's willing.]
no subject
(Because she gets it, understands the point of all this. His reasoning isn't bad, she just wants him to be angrier about it. More offended. He's supposed to be mad for her, not apologetic about the rings the CDC is forcing him through. They're both supposed to be angry about it.)
She leans back down, snapping the ammo box shut.]
Let's not make any plans while we've got this crap happening on deck. Knowing our luck, the whole damn ship will blow up before then. [It's a mild kind of evasion as she wrestles the box back into the storage space under the bunk. She's not ready to give him anything more than that. Not yet. When she's done, she straightens - dusts her hands on her hips even though there isn't anything really to wipe off.]
Congratulations on the promotion, Garrus.
[And at least manages to make it sound genuine.]
no subject
But there it is. There's nothing he can do.
With a swallow, Garrus nods. He'd been proud of the promotion, filled with thoughts of helping more, of saving people, and there are two dead and he doesn't know what even to do about it other than keep patrolling. Isaac and Isabelle. He hadn't known them. The hurt isn't personal. But it seems like something Green should have been able to prevent, or even by now avenge.]
Thank you, Shepard.
[He can't call her commander. It will undermine everything he's said and probably feel like a slap in the face to her. Garrus takes another breath, nods again. Best not to draw this out. Best to give her some room, and then work on fixing it after she's had time to breathe.]
I should... hah. I'll go. But if you need me, you know how to find me.