***

He lay in a coma in the Normandy’s medbay for some time, only waking up as they were headed back to the Council, entering the safe space around the Citadel. “Where…” Nihlus’ voice was faint, and he coughed as he tried to move, reaching a hand up to his swaddled head, rubbing it as if he could get rid of pain so easily.

“Normandy. You got a shot in the head. Do you remember what happened?” They heard it was Saren, but hearsay wouldn’t be enough to convince the Council to move openly against one of their best agents.

Nihlus shook his head. “I remember heading towards the rendezvous point, and then nothing.” And hearsay was all they were going to have. “You saved me.” Wonder in his voice, a hint of awe and… something more, something Shepard shoved in the back of her mind and kept there, not allowing herself to think on any alternatives.

“Probably.” Shepard shrugged, not wanting to have this conversation right now. She had to prepare for what she would tell the Council, her head too full of shattered visions from the Prothean beacon. Someone would fill Nihlus in later, but it wouldn’t be her. “I have to go. You’re confined to our medbay for at least another three days. Try and rest up.” And that was that; she didn’t wait for an answer before getting up and leaving, feeling like the tips of her ears and top of her cheekbones might be slightly pink even just thinking back on how he had just looked at her- like she might possibly be everything.

***

Spectre Shepard. It had a nice ring to it, even if it didn’t come clear of Council bullshit. You couldn’t win them all. Said Council bullshit (part of her mind was glad, but she viciously told that part of her mind to shut up) included having Nihlus Kryik onboard the Normandy as a more permanent traveling companion. “Provisionary, of course,” they added. “He isn’t up to his full speed and can’t fully mentor you, but you can give advice.” He had just regained the ability to walk and wouldn’t be joining Shepard in the field any time soon, but he was there none the less, chafing at his inability to follow her. She understood that, at least. Physical therapy was a slow process, but no one was better equipped than Dr. Chakwas.

Every mission, even the minor ones, ended up debriefing with Nihlus. After the first few times, she felt herself relaxing. It felt natural to give him more information than was strictly needed- her feelings about what had happened, her frustrations when things went wrong or didn’t go according to plan, even how she felt about her crewmates, how they were steadily growing closer.

“It looks like you can hold a gun again.” The left side of Nihlus’ body was still weaker than the right, but he could make a fist, hold a gun for a prolonged period of time. He could walk, was working on jogging in place, doing turian military stretches that Shepard found herself watching for far too long. He caught her once and just smiled at her, saying nothing. 

“Getting there, but not fast enough, Shepard.” He cast it aside in frustration, unfolding his lanky frame and pacing, relishing the feeling of being able to do that much, long legs eating up the limited floor space of the Normandy. Once again, it was impossible not to watch, even to admire- hold it together, Shepard. He’s your mentor. Sort of.

“You’re lucky your head stayed in place, Nihlus. Don’t strain it. Don’t want to scar anymore of your pretty face.” Oh shit. She had just said it, and though Shepard kept her tone flippant, she was suddenly very busy with her omni-tool, looking down with determination, biting her lip.

“Turian women go crazy for scars. Unfortunately, so do krogan.” Grimacing almost theatrically, Shepard laughed before she could stop herself, a full-bodied, unexpected burst of sound that made Nihlus laugh in turn, until they were both done, silence hanging in the air. 

“I… should go. Later, Nihlus.” Missions to prepare for. Things to do. Same, old.

 *** 

By the time they were due to arrive at Noveria, Nihlus was well enough to follow Shepard into the field, though Chakwas had given her a full list of signs to watch out for, and she was cautioned not to overexert him- warnings she more than happily shared with Nihlus, who could only shake his head. “I’ll play it safe, Shepard.” It was the worst lie she had ever heard.

Still, it felt good to have him at her back, even in the cold austerity of Noveria’s main trading hub, as of yet untouched by the trouble with geth they were having elsewhere on the planet, and it felt even better to be out in the field with him, standing back to back, shooting down waves of enemies until she was exhilarated and exhausted at once, panting hard but nowhere near giving up.

“How’s it feel to be back, Nihlus?” she shouted at him at one point.

“Pretty damn good, Shepard.”

Though they operated under her orders, they also worked well as a team. Strictly speaking, Nihlus wasn’t under her command- he worked for the Council and as a Spectre first, but part of that was agreeing to listen to her when they were out in the field. Keeping in mind Chakwas’ medical advice, Shepard ordered him to hang back when things got really hairy, and he listened- to a point. 

As they left the mako to take a geth juggernaut unit on foot, Nihlus dashed ahead suddenly. “Nihlus! I had orders!” And then his body shoved into hers, knocking Shepard back into the soft powder, a thankfully fresh snow drift taking most of the brunt of the fall.

Looking up, she saw a rocket hit Nihlus, the crackle of energy as his shield dissolved and the thud as his body was rocketed back a few dozen feet, hitting a wall, after which he didn’t move for a series of long heartbeats, her breath caught in her throat. No time to waste on inaction though; that wasn’t the way Shepard operated. She and Liara could handle the geth, dispatching it with, if not ease, at least not a total struggle.

“We’re even now.” Nihlus was sitting up, groaning but actually awake, alive, waving off her concerns. “Winded. Fine. Shield and armor took a beating.” His body too- there would be bruises, even through his toughened turian skin, but nothing he hadn’t faced before.

“That was reckless.” Sitting back on her heels, Shepard removed her helmet, needing to feel fresh air, the freeze good on her skin. “I guess I owe you a drink.” A spontaneous idea; standing, she offered Nihlus a hand to help him up. He took it and held it one beat, and then two, before letting it go.

He rubbed out his own shoulders, checking over his armor. “Strictly Spectre business?” Nothing obvious, though the chest was weakened.