#acuratio

                    HER BODY IS BROKEN. Arms a graveyard of charred tissue, sewn back together with assorted patchwork of synthskin and hope. There is a scar from her brow leading past the top of her hear, tearing the line of her hair. Bandages sprawl across her more than skin, but the skin is warm. The room throbs with the soft, steady sound of her monitored heartbeat. She’s alive. She is limited, but she’s here. She’s breathing.

                    The medication dulls her ability to feel him against her legs, but she can feel a gentle pressure ━━ and more importantly, the touch to her hand. If her body listened, her grip would tighten, drawing him closer. Would cling to him and sob, BY GOD, WE DID IT. But she can only trail her thumb along his talon, to between his fingers. She reaches, straining, until the tips of her fingers touch the side of his face. She exhales a shuddering breath, caught in her throat. Dark eyes are blurred, but she can SEE HIM.

                    OH, SHE KNOWS. The righteous fire will rain soon enough. But Emiko didn’t lose her leg. The majority of the flesh on her arms replaced with synthskin and cybernetics, a chunk of hair shaved to repair the torn skin from her brow to behind her ear, a great deal of blood, and most of her patience and sanity ━ but not her leg. A soft smile manages to emerge as her hands rest gently upon his shoulders. ( She’s still getting used to the scar tissue, and skin not her own. She should be used to being REMADE by now. )

                    She has scarcely had a full, decent night’s sleep since the terror attack to Earth. Every night, she can remember the flames and the screaming, granting civilians a pain they have scarcely known before. The peaceful roads became a battleground, a place of horror ━ but Emiko has visited Hell. Spent time there longer than most. Another Hell was nothing new. ( But that never makes it less terrifying. ) More than anything, she remembers that little boy. That frightened little boy who had wedged himself into the interior of a dying building. Wide eyes shining with tears, staring up at her through the dark. She could have saved him.

                    In a way, she did ━ SHE HAS HIS GHOST. He haunts her dreams, forever out of reach. Every night, she tries to run faster, but the air dogs her down. The gravity is too high and she doesn’t have her suit to compensate. She can feel her head crushing down into her shoulders, her feet into the ground as she tries to chase the boy. She can see his white shirt in the distance, flickering out of focus behind shades with the voices of the lost. And she can never catch him until he BURNS ALIVE.

                    It isn’t until the boy catches flame that the dream releases her, and Emiko wakes with a sharp gasp, flinging herself upward. Her heart is pounding and her limbs are sluggish, as though the high gravity has followed her to the Normandy. She tries to even her gasps that threaten to turn into choking sobs, caught in her throat. In her sudden waking, she flung off the long, taloned arm wrapped around her waist ━ and for a horrifying second, her dream-ridden mind sees a marauder in bed with her, its metallic claws posed and ready to tear her apart. But the form makes a soft, familiar, sleepy sound and she blinks. No. Not an enemy. GARRUS. A shaky trickle of relief falls down her spine in knowing she’s not in present danger.

                    IT’S JUST A HUNCH, BUT EMIKO FIGURES GARRUS... ISN’T EXACTLY HAPPY WITH HER. The way she remained in his sights ━ but this time, not exactly following his orders. The plan (his plan) was for her to talk Sidonis into place, keep him distracted until Garrus got his shot. His vengeance. But the word vengeance never settled very well with her. She had managed to convince the turian to show mercy, but she knew the sigh he exhaled. Knew what that meant. He said he didn’t want to talk about it just yet. Later, maybe.

                    And now, she quietly enters the main battery, letting the door hiss shut before she speaks. “ It’s later, ” she says, her soft voice standing out in the rhythmic hum of the weaponry. She rounds where he stands before the console and instinctively reaches a hand to his shoulder. “ Are you all right? ”

                    Cataclysmic thunder roars overhead, shaking the skies with the deafening sound of the reaper’s siren. It blares its way through the sound waves, drowning out any other audio as it runs. When it fades away, the song of war returns ━ the snarling husks, the repeated gunfire, the scream of each ally shot down into the mud. If there’s Hell on Earth, this is it. Commander Shepard has been in more Hells than any person should and always emerged from the other side. But nothing like this. This is a new layer of the inferno. This is one without a tunnel in the distance.

                   THEY NEED TO GET TO THE CONDUIT. SHE NEEDS TO GET TO THE CONDUIT.

                    The reaper’s aim is true as its laser cuts a clean path through the battlefield, upturning the ground mako and sending it into their path. It’s only by the end of a hair that they manage to dodge its strike. The ground shakes as the tank lands and Shepard’s heart drops into her stomach for the fraction of a second before she sees her companion crawl out of the way. Downed, but alive. Even through the smoke and dust, she can see the familiar glean of blue armor and a scarred fringe. She scrapes paint of her armor’s knees as she slides before her companions, pulling Garrus’ arm around her shoulders.

                    She can feel him clinging to her, crushed to his side as she calls for an evac. As if he knows. ( Of course he knows. ) Even as she helps carry him to the shuttle, half her body remains angled away, facing toward the conduit. She can feel familiar talons clinging to her pauldron, as if he can sense her thoughts simply by the shift of her body.

                    “ HERE, TAKE HIM. ”

                    “ SHEPARD ━ ”

                    “ YOU’VE GOT TO GET OUT OF HERE. ”

                    “ NO ━ NO, NO, NO, MIKO. ”

some jerk: commander shepard sucks

garrus: What the fuck did you just fucking say about Commander Shepard, you little bitch? I’ll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Turian Military, and I’ve been involved in numerous secret raids on Palaven, and I have over 300 confirmed kills.I am trained in gorilla warfare and I’m the top sniper in the entire Palaven armed forces. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before in this galaxy, mark my fucking words.You think you can get away with saying that shit about Commander Shepard over the extranet? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of spies across the Milky Way and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You’re fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and that’s just with my bare hands.Not only am I extensively trained in unarmed combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the United Turian Fleet and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the universe, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little “clever” comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue.But you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it.You’re fucking dead, kiddo.