#79 for Shakarian :)
[Whoo, finished this in just about the knick of time. This is for my friend @stormcallart, whose birthday I very nearly missed thanks to my chaotic schedule. This is her Reyna Shepard. <3]
Morning coffee, Reyna Shepard’s eyes bleary and half-lidded as she tried to wake up. It was the instant shit, not anything good, but it got the job done if she could just make herself swallow it down.
A hand landed lightly on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “You were yelling in your sleep,” Garrus said as he slid into the chair next to her, nursing his own turian concoction, a mixture of caffeine and something that smelled vaguely like cinnamon to Shepard, but also a little bit like toothpaste. It made instant coffee that much more appealing.
“Shit, again? Was I… upset?” She didn’t remember any particular nightmares from the night before, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. They always were, lurking, waiting to take her off guard. It was usually that same little kid, always out of reach, but there were other faces sometimes too. Even sleep wasn’t safe, but that was what made coffee that much more brilliant.
To her relief, Garrus chuckled and shook her head. “You were pissed as hell, Shepard. Something about Reapers and your space hamster.”
Vague memories drifted back into her head. “They made a husk out of him! Those bastards.” Slamming her fist into her palm, she took her final sip of cup one before pouring another, watching the sludge fall to the bottom. Delicious.
“So did you get those Reapers in the end?” Always invested in her stories, even when they were half-baked dreams, Garrus leaned forward and placed a hand on her knee under the table, running his hand up and down the cloth of her pants.
“Oh, I got them, and I got my revenge. I mean, I don’t remember what that was, but I’m pretty sure I got it,” she continued, looking up at the ceiling in an effort to try to recall the exact details. The harder she tried, the more they seemed to slip away. “You know, my therapist once told me that I have this obsession with seeking revenge… We’ll see about that.”
A moment of silence descended over their morning contemplations before Garrus broke off into laughter until he couldn’t breathe, wheezing slightly and mandibles flaring outward, twitching even after he had managed to gather himself back together. “You saw a therapist, Shepard? You? Ms. Emotional Openness of a Krogan?”
“Laugh it up, Vakarian. I was a kid.” A teenager, actually. “We moved around a lot, and my parents were worried about my stability.”
“Your stability? No, never.”
Grumbling, Shepard threatened to throw her coffee at Garrus, making him push his chair back hastily and jump up, sending a smile spreading across her face, deep into her different colored eyes. “Guess I never changed.” That same therapist would have something to say about it, but they had left his station behind when she was fifteen and she never saw another one again. Probably for the best.
“Coffee burns, Shepard! Burns are bad.” Still standing a safe distance away, Garrus edged closer to her, reaching for his own mug and taking a cautious sip, shuffling slowly until he was by her again.
“Thank you, Doctor Vakarian. I had no idea.” Her second cup was drained and gone, which meant it was time for the day to start. She stood with a sigh, body unfolding itself slowly. As she did so, Garrus pulled her close, resting his head on top of hers, brushing a kiss right on the crown of red hair at the top.
“Glad I’m not on the bad side of your revenge,” he murmured into her hair, and she couldn’t help but find herself agreeing.
