He tries to jerk his head back, he really tries. It doesn't go well. She's too sure of herself, the motion too pointed and quick. The last thing he wants is to hurt her again. Shepard being injured is nothing new - out on the battlefield, in any kind of combat, that's something they're used to. It's not something he likes, but it's something he accepts. This, though? This is - this is his fault. He'd hurt her. Not an enemy.
And she was letting it happen again?
Her hand doesn't move. His own hover, ready to try and catch her, should she have another episode. Or seize up again. Somehow she doesn't - some miracle of stubborn Shepard keeps her on her feet. She also doesn't pull away. He tries not to gape. Tries not to trip over his words.
What she says makes sense. Logical Garrus knows this. Emotional Garrus - who has always had more say than a turian's emotions should - doesn't want to see her hurt because of him ever again. But Logical Garrus wins out. He exhales. His gaze dips, despite the hand pressed to his mandible, avoiding, just for the moment, while his brain sorts itself, gets everything back into reasonable order.
"So how are we going to train a magic seizure touch?" he manages, finally. The vaguest trace of his own brand of sarcastic levity in the words. "Kind of hard to throw it at the enemy. I'm not exactly aerodynamic."
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He tries to jerk his head back, he really tries. It doesn't go well. She's too sure of herself, the motion too pointed and quick. The last thing he wants is to hurt her again. Shepard being injured is nothing new - out on the battlefield, in any kind of combat, that's something they're used to. It's not something he likes, but it's something he accepts. This, though? This is - this is his fault. He'd hurt her. Not an enemy.
And she was letting it happen again?
Her hand doesn't move. His own hover, ready to try and catch her, should she have another episode. Or seize up again. Somehow she doesn't - some miracle of stubborn Shepard keeps her on her feet. She also doesn't pull away. He tries not to gape. Tries not to trip over his words.
What she says makes sense. Logical Garrus knows this. Emotional Garrus - who has always had more say than a turian's emotions should - doesn't want to see her hurt because of him ever again. But Logical Garrus wins out. He exhales. His gaze dips, despite the hand pressed to his mandible, avoiding, just for the moment, while his brain sorts itself, gets everything back into reasonable order.
"So how are we going to train a magic seizure touch?" he manages, finally. The vaguest trace of his own brand of sarcastic levity in the words. "Kind of hard to throw it at the enemy. I'm not exactly aerodynamic."