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ramblinganthropologist · 3 months ago

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N7 Month 24 1 - Poetry

Summary: Everyone has a type of music they like. What's poetry to one is dead hipster stuff to another. But hey, boyfriends don't have to agree on everything.

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There was nothing like the universe literally being on fire from threat of total extinction to make paperwork pleasant in comparison.

Well, almost… he still hated it.

Alistair frowned as he glanced at the screen, eyes feeling heavy. For the last few hours, he had been doing his best to catch up on things while they drifted through FTL travel on the way back to the Citadel. He had a mild headache from it, but it wasn’t bad enough to require medicine. Sometimes, having something to focus on helped.

What also helped was being in his quarters. Right then, he had his favorite playlist on. Energetic music filled the room, giving him a bit of energy as he continued to type out reports of the latest planet full of Reapers and what they had found there. It was still pretty grim work, but the upbeat tunes helped him keep going.

“And… done.” He clicked save, sighing in relief. “One down, thirty to go…”

Make that thirty one – an email popped up on his screen from someone else needing something out of him. It made his head hurt, but it was on the Citadel. Once he was done checking up on other things, it be next on his list. So, onto his omni-tool it went for later.

He was going to be busy once they touched down… so much for checking on his niece.

There would’ve been time to brood on that, but his concentration was broken by the dinging of the elevator. Alistair cocked an eyebrow as he turned in his chair to glance at the door. It slid open, and soon followed the sound of talons on metal.

“Garrus? I thought you were still on duty.”

The turian shook his head as the door closed behind him. “Did you see what time it is, Al?”

Alistair’s eyebrows knit together as he glanced at his omni-tool. Much to his displeasure, it was far later than he had expected. He had officially been off duty for about an hour and hadn’t even realized it. That was the weird thing about FTL travel – he lost all track of time when there wasn’t anything to look at except the swirls of energy.

“Guess time got away from me.” He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry, babe.”

Garrus shook his head as he held out his hand. “Need help getting up? I have no idea how you do that for so long without going insane.”

Normally, he would’ve gotten up on his own. After all, his knees were fine – they were barely a year old. Yet, he couldn’t turn the turian down as he took his hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. Sometimes, it was just nice to be there with him.

“Thanks, Garrus.” He leaned up to kiss him on the mandible – the scarred one. “How’d your work go?”

Together, they headed over to the couch in the room and settled in. The bed wasn’t too far, but the energy was all wrong for that. He was too tired for that sort of thing anyway, and no doubt his boyfriend felt the same. It had been a long day, and a longer night before. Maybe the next time they were off duty, but not that night.

“Everything is blowing up, so no surprises there. I have a lot to look into once we touch down on the Citadel.” Garrus sighed in response. Meanwhile, Alistair leaned on his shoulder, curling up next to him. “How about you?”

He sighed too. “Pretty much the same. My to-do list is insane right now and it’s getting longer by the hour.”

“Never a dull moment then. At least we won’t get bored.”

Alistair would’ve loved being bored if that meant there were no Reapers around to ruin the universe. If they survived this, he would never complain about it again. Hell, he’d welcome the chance to just sit around and do nothing. Of course, that would require surviving first, and on most days that was a pretty big maybe.

Not a giant maybe, but a pretty big one, nonetheless.

Thanks to the brief silence that stretched between them, his playlist came through loud and clear. Alistair couldn’t help but hum along – it was one of his favorite songs from his absolute number one group. Something about it always made him feel like he could do anything, even beat the Reapers.

Which was funny – the unit was from the early 2020’s. Humanity hadn’t exactly gotten too far with manned expeditions to space back then.

Next to him, Garrus shook his head. “Idol music again?”

Alistair rolled his eyes in response. “What’s wrong with it?”

The turian chuckled a little in response. “It’s for teenage girls. Dead teenage ones at that – do you listen to anything from this century?”

That made Alistair sit up, though it wasn’t from being insulted. He knew he was something of an anachronistic hipster – or at least that was what his foster brother had called him years ago when he had still been a minor. Then it had been an insult, but now he took it as a strange badge of honor.

“I do, but this is my favorite.” His favorite member of the group broke into a solo as he spoke – he loved her lines, especially when paired with guitar. “Like Ray right there. She’s telling the whole universe to fuck off if it gets in their way. I need that kind of energy right now.”

Garrus still chuckled. “Yeah, it’s real poetry.”

That made him roll his eyes again as he nudged the turian in the side. “Oh? And what do you listen to that’s so much better than my dead teenage girl music?”

Just for that, he shut off his playlist. He might not have been the biggest supporter of his long-dead idols, but he was still a fan. Besides, part of him was curious as to what his boyfriend listened to when he was alone. That was the kind of things couples discussed, right?

Not that he had experience in the matter… but he was doing his best.

“Well, if you insist.” Garrus’s talons were soon tapping on the screen of his omni-tool, taking control of the sound system for a moment. Alistair waited, trying to predict what he was going to hear once he was done.

He didn’t seem like a pop fan, so that was out. Maybe rock? Did turians rap or was that impossible with their vocals. Maybe –

Loud music with a steady beat brought him out of his reverie. The song had a heavy electronic edge, and he didn’t really hear much in the ways of vocals. The beat was what he really noticed more than anything else as he sat there, trying to work it out.

Where had he heard it before… wait…

“Don’t they play this in Purgatory?”

Garrus nodded and lowered the volume somewhat so they could hear themselves speak. Still, the beat remained, faster than his heart. “Yeah, probably. I usually listen to it when I’m getting ready for a firefight.”

Alistair snorted in response. “You listen to club music before you shoot people?”

“Not a lot of people lately, Al.” Fair enough. “But yeah. What’s wrong with that?”

He shook his head. “Just that it’s hilarious you make fun of my lyrics when yours barely has any at all.”

It wasn’t as if it was a bad song – though it definitely wasn’t something he would listen to if given the choice. He could see why Garrus might use it to pump himself up before a fight, odd as it was. But it wasn’t exactly something he’d enjoy putting on a playlist.

Not exactly inspiring stuff…

“The beat is the point, you’re supposed to dance to it.”

That made him snort again. “Yeah, but you’re not exactly dancing when you’re lining up a shot, unless you’re counting the geth as your dance partners. The battlefield isn’t exactly a club.”

Garrus shook his head too. “You’ve never even been in a club before.”

And before Alistair could shoot back, he added, “When you weren’t wearing armor and packing heat.”

…

Ok, harsh. Fair, but harsh. Still, Alistair rolled his eyes again as he settled back to just sitting on the couch. The song was about to reach the drop – see, he knew that much – which meant he was probably going to get a headache.

“I went during shore leave with Bo once or twice.”

Garrus’ mandible twitched. “Oh, you did? Did you break out your patented dance moves?”

Alistair nudged him in the side again. “How that rumor started, I’ll never know. And no, the music was giving me a headache. A drunk guy wound up hitting on me anyway when I got up to go to the bathroom.”

His unit had loved hearing that thanks to the fact that he had been even less muscular back when he was younger. It was no surprise the man had thought he was a woman, but… ugh, even thinking about it made him grumble.

Wonder if that guy was still alive with the Reapers and all…

“Did Bo knock him into next week?”

That made Alistair chuckle. “No, I held her back. He had enough embarrassment from finding out he tried to get with a guy.”

That made Garrus chuckle too, which was much more enjoyable to hear than the song he had playing. Even better, he paused the music and blissful silence filled the room again. The ghost of the beat still remained – he was going to be hearing it for a while. With any luck, it wouldn’t follow him into his sleep.

He had enough nightmares as it was.

“Well, we can always go back when we get to the Citadel. Purgatory isn’t too bad.” Garrus let out a thoughtful note. “They at least play better music than Afterlife did.”

The thought made Alistair stick out his tongue. “Don’t let Aria hear you say that; she’s already mad she got kicked out and I’m the one who has to deal with her.”

“I’m serious. If you’ve got time, we can go when we’re finished with our to-do lists.” His boyfriend nudged him. “I won’t even make you dance with me.”

Good – Purgatory had a lot of Alliance members milling about. The last thing they needed to start was a rumor about the so-called “Shepard shuffle” joked about on the Normandy. Really, he had no idea how they had gotten that idea; it wasn’t like he ever danced around on ship.

“My to-do list is pretty long, Garrus.” His omni-tool was weighed down by it. “But… maybe. I’ll let you know when I finish up.”

He fell back to the turian’s side, resting his head once again against his shoulder. When he closed his eyes, he could feel the Normandy shifting through FTL. Before it had bothered him, but in the moment it soothed his frayed nerves. Apparently, dealing with the Reapers was a balm to his motion sickness. Who knew?

But it sounded like he had a date if he finished up in time… talk about motivation. All he had to do was try to save the world beforehand.

---

“Hey, Al. Still sleeping, I see.”

The hospital room was quiet, save for the beeping of the machines keeping check on his boyfriend’s vitals. The beep was steady and quiet and had been for over a month. He wasn’t a medic, but he could tell by then that there hadn’t been any change since the last time he had come to visit.

Garrus settled into the chair next to Alistair’s bed. This one was on the left so he had access to the man’s remaining hand. Early on, he had made that mistake – it wasn’t exactly useful to grasp onto what was left of his arm.

Maybe later, once he was up, they could work on that.

The turian sighed as he glanced over at his boyfriend. There were less bandages, but he still hadn’t woken up since they had gone to Earth in order to finish the fight with the Reapers. Whatever he had done to destroy them on the Citadel, it had knocked him firmly on his ass. Even a month later, and he still hadn’t woken up.

Worst of all, the doctors weren’t sure when he was going to return to consciousness. The unsaid part he heard loud and clear – they didn’t even know if he was going to wake up at all. They talked about the damage his amp had done, and if there might be brain damage, and what his cracked skull might do to him. In the end, they said all they could do was wait and allow his battered body to heal.

So there was nothing but the beeping of the machines and his shallow breathing.

Garrus had grown to hate that silence more than anything else. Sometimes, if Bo had been there earlier, the TV was on and playing either baseball or an episode of the Bachelor. The baseball he could understand given Alistair was a fan of perhaps the worst team in the entire league, but he didn’t understand the other choice.

Maybe she was the one watching it? She didn’t seem the type either… but that was besides the point. There was no baseball or manufactured drama to provide some kind of noise to focus on over the sounds of the hospital.

Thus, it was time to make his own noise.

“I got this from your computer when we returned to the Normandy. I’m pretty sure you said this Ray girl was your favorite when we talked about it the last time. You had it marked down as a solo album?”

He pressed play on his omni-tool and high energy rock music filled the room. The singing was in another human language, but his translator still did the work for him as well as it did when Alistair spoke. Songs were always harder to translate than speech, but he got the gist well enough.

Something about spite being motivation and giving the finger to the entire universe?

“You should listen to your favorite singer, Al.” His voice grew quiet as he continued to listen to the music. “It’s too quiet without you. The whole universe wants to give you medals, and here you are lying in bed.”

They weren’t the only ones. Within the pocket of his jumpsuit, a small circle of metal was burning a hole. He had fashioned it from part of the Normandy too gone to repair and put back on the ship, so no one was going to miss it. The hard part had been the sizing, but having a comatose boyfriend was great for that. It was the only upside to the whole thing.

Garrus sighed as he settled in for another long visit, at least glad for the music keeping him company. It wasn’t bad, honestly. As many times as he had played it for Alistair, he was starting to pick his own favorites out of the group. He liked the light blue one – she was the closest in the group to what he would’ve listened to on his own.

His own music was still better, but this… wasn’t terrible.

“Come on, Al… Bo said the pennant race was starting up soon.” He shook his head. “I have no idea what that means, but I guess it’s important. You’re going to need to explain it to me once you wake up.”

It was hard to have a conversation with someone in a coma, so Garrus lapsed into silence after that. All the while, the guitar-heavy music and the sound of a long-dead singer filled the air, calling for the listener to keep spitefully going on. If ever there was a soundtrack Alistair needed to hear while he recovered, it was this one.

Until he woke up, he would keep playing it. All he could hope was that his boyfriend was enjoying the playlist.

#Alistair Shepard #n7month 2024 #brought to you by the lair of the shadow broker #and a quora on edm lol #Someone had to get my terrible taste in music and it was Al

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