Their first night together was going to be their last night alive. Curled together on blankets and sleeping pads in the Normandy's forward battery, Tali knew it was true. She felt it. Neither she nor Garrus expected to make it back; since Rannoch, part of her had always known it would be that way. They would make their last stand on Earth.
And that was okay.
It didn't stop them dreaming of the life they'd build together afterward her nestled on his chest, him propped up against the bulkhead. Garrus would come to Rannoch; they'd knock together a homestead, invite others to live close by, get a little colony going. Get Tali living outside her suit. Grow things. Adopt a boatload's of little turians and quarians, playing outside in the dirt. He'd work security. They'd make him a sheriff's badge.
The spiky, cynical man she usually saw melted away that night, and she saw a different side of him; gentle, soft. Tali removed her visor, churned with the desire for more. But they couldn't. She couldn't risk a fever on the battlefield. Garrus, with a sad smile, understood. His touches were careful and hesitant. Her kiss was firm. It was her first.
And then: Earth. A living nightmare. Sheeting black rain, running though ash and mud and body parts, banshee screams and the moans of the dying and blinding explosions searing blood-red into her skull. Every explosion a terror and at the same time a relief because it meant she wasn't hit. Liara snarling, flinging cannibals and marauders aside like toys, biotics amplified by adrenaline and fear and rage. And then Shepard made it to the beam and the Reaper-creatures were burned into holes in the ground.
And it was over. Shepard was gone and the rest of them were numb. There would be time to grieve. Later.
He found her the next cold, grey morning fixing Makos in the Hammer forward operating base. She was flat on her back, tucked beneath a Mako jacked up on its axel, her faceplate streaked with engine grease.
"Knew you'd be here, Tali," a wry voice said. "You never could resist getting your hands dirty."
Claws tightened around her leg, pulled gently. She slid out from beneath the Mako with her breath in her throat. His visor was gone, his armor was caked with dirt and gore, but he was smiling.
"Shut up," she grinned.
"Only if you make me." He pulled her into his arms.
That night they camped up on an upper floor of one of the office empty blocks. Garrus managed to find the only room in London with a working door and intact windows. He split his ration in two. He told her he meant what he said. As soon as they could get off this rock, they'd go to Rannoch. They'd go home. There was quiet determination in his eyes.
She realised Rannoch couldn't be home without him. But she needed to stay healthy if she was going to get home at all – and that meant the suit had to stay on.
He understood, even agreed. But she was pleased to see the naked want in his eyes. They improvised.
There was a future for them both to hold out for.
The next day Garrus went out with an Alliance patrol to find survivors while she patched up engines. That had been three days ago. Three days she hadn't slept, barely ate. Now she was being hauled in a Tomkah full of krogan and humans toward a hospital on the edge of the city. Tali bit her lip until it split.
Until now there was never much need for groundside medical facilities – the Reapers killed most people on the battlefield, or they died of their wounds soon after. But the Alliance had good things to say about this place. Chatter bounced around her in the cab. Some ex-Cerberus biomedical scientist had handed themselves in and started fixing up the wounded. Some thought it was penance; others thought she'd been given no choice. Either way, resources were being scoured from all over the planet; injured officers and brass were being flown in.
She was cold, people said. A bit bride of Frankenstein. She could bring people back from the dead.
Hearing that, the coils of worry that had twisted around Tali's gut were replaced by tendrils of hope. It was Miranda; had to be. If Garrus was hurt, coming here was a good sign.
She clutched her head in her hands. It had to be.
Tali slid out of the cab onto churned up, muddy ground. There was usually a buzz around hospitals; people of every species hurrying around, patients on stretchers, beeps and whirrs and the chirrups of machines. This place was silent. No ambulances parked outside, no whine of shuttle-cores in the air. Only the sound of rain, falling out of a granite sky. All but a handful of windows were dark.
Two Alliance soldiers led her into the building. They walked up a long, narrow hallway, lit by stuttering strip-lights. At least it was clean; Tali picked up the tang of new bleach even through her scrubbers. They climbed up stairs, pushing further into the complex. Doors appeared on either side, each opening onto patient rooms. Most were empty; some just contained jumbled stacks of cargo crates. But they were filling up. Doors opened onto soldiers, mostly human and asari, lying hooked up to machines. Seeing them, Tali walked faster. But when she reached the end of the corridor, she had seen no turians. The last room was occupied by a frail looking human, her chest rising and falling beneath thin sheets.
Where is he? Tali wheeled. There had to be more. One of the marines clasped her shoulder, smiled weakly. It was the only thing that kept her from running straight back out.
Another door opened with a metallic chime, this one straight ahead. Miranda stood on the other side, face stern, hair scraped back, dark crescents beneath her eyes. The marines stiffened; they seemed afraid of her.
But Miranda was the one to hesitate.
"Tali –"
She started forward."Tell me where he is. So help me, Miranda –"
"I'll take you to him. Come with me."
They left the marines behind and walked together, this time toward an elevator. Miranda was quiet and exhausted. Tali felt her stomach juices frothing as she opened the elevator doors, then freeze. Miranda was taking them to the basement.
And that was the exact moment she knew.
Her legs turned to concrete. She couldn't push herself inside. Blood swooshed in her ears. Tali felt herself sway, heard Miranda talking but her voice was faint and watery. She heard herself moaning, and then the ground just dropped away.
Arms looped around her; and then her faceplace crushed against Miranda's shoulder. This was ridiculous – Miranda was a Cerberus bosh'tet. She was cold as steel. It was so wrong she laughed, and the laugh lurched into a sob.
Her visor fogged up. When the elevator doors sprung open, she pulled herself free. Miranda was looking at her with a perplexed look on her face, the kind she wore when she was working something out.
Directly opposite the elevator was a stronglocked iron door. The lights were harsh, unforgiving. Down here, Tali could see Miranda's bones through her skin.
"W-what happened? How?"
Miranda's brows knitted. "I can't believe they didn't tell you this."
"Just tell me."
She sighed. "I don't know exactly. Survivalists, or looters. Some civilian holdouts have been so petrified for so long they're still shooting first and asking questions later." Her voice quieted. "It was immediate. He didn't suffer at all. I'm sorry, Tali."
She said nothing. Her heart kept beating and her breaths kept rising and falling but she, Tali, went away. Some dormant part of her kept watching as though this was all happening to someone else. Miranda punched in the keycode for the door and heaved it ajar. It moved with a heavy creak. Tali crept inside.
The room was square, tiled. Light from the ceiling strip bounced off metal basins and workspaces and lockers. In the middle of the room was a table made of the same metal. On the middle of that table was Garrus.
He looked smaller, somehow. Peaceful. His plates once looked as tough as rock but they looked different now, thinner, like sculpted clay. His eyes were shut. She couldn't see anything wrong with him. He just looked like he was sleeping. She moved up to the table, gripping the edge so tight that her hands hurt.
She was afraid to touch him, as if touching him would make it all real.
Miranda peered at her from the other side of the table, arms crossed.
"Didn't you even try to save him?"
"If there was anything at all I could have done, I would have done it."
"Would you?"
Miranda's mouth opened, shut again. She looked away. Startled, Tali realised she was hurt.
"I didn't mean that. I'm sorry."
Miranda smoothed her cuffs. "Don't mention it. I thought you and he were close."
"You did?"
"He was always just a little more mature around you. A lot easier to have around. He looked out for you."
Tali felt her eyes burn. "He did."
Silence settled between them. Miranda moved so quietly Tali barely noticed her, gliding around as though being in a room with a body was the most natural thing in the world. To her, Tali guessed, it possibly was. Miranda was always more comfortable with things than with people. She'd spent two years in a room with Shepard.
Lazarus. She nearly cried aloud.
"You can bring him back."
"What? Tali-"
"I know you can. You can use cybernetics. Or nanites. I can get you what you need."
Miranda looked alarmed. "I'm sorry, but it's – that's just not possible."
"Of course it is. Of course you can." Anger sluiced up into her throat. "You're not even going to try?"
"It's not about trying. His cells are decomposing at a rapid rate. Even if I could augment some physical processes with cybernetics – assuming we could manufacture compatible components - I have no experience with turian physiology. At all."
Tali didn't want to believe her. "You're lying."
"I can't work miracles."
"You did once."
Miranda shook her head. "It might have looked that way but it wasn't. Not really. This isn't like Shepard. She was in a - a kind of suspended animation state when we recovered her. And I had limitless time and money to wake her up. This is different. Garrus is - Garrus is gone. Really gone." Miranda's eyes locked to hers. "This is goodbye."
Tali looked back down to the table. She was here, here with Garrus, and Garrus was dead. He could have been dead since the morning he left her at the base, while her head was filling up with dreams of Rannoch. Stupid dreams. Dreams they shared together, and now were hers alone. He's with Shepard now, she thought, at that bar they always talked about, but the thought felt ridiculous.
"Do you want some time alone?" Miranda murmured.
Tali didn't answer immediately. She stroked the side of his face, his rocket-ravaged 'good' side.
"No. I want to leave and I never want to come back."
Miranda dipped her head. "Understandable. I'm sure that can be arranged."
Tali looked back to the table a final time, committing everything she saw, every inch of him, to memory. A cold calm had fallen over her. It was the only thing keeping her upright, keeping her sane. She would fall apart later. Right now, she wanted to go home. Except home was Garrus and the Normandy. Neither existed anymore.
Miranda drew close again, tentative. She nodded upward.
"Before you go - you passed Jack upstairs. I'm sure she'd appreciate hearing a familiar voice. Or at least any voice that isn't mine."
Home. Home was her family, she realised. Jack - crazy, loyal Jack - was family. Home was Miranda and Liara and Ashley and James. They all still needed her. Especially Liara now, without Shepard. If anyone knew how Tali was feeling, it would be her.
"I'll look in," she said.
Miranda smiled. "Then I'll keep you company for a while. If you don't mind."
She didn't mind, didn't mind at all. She followed Miranda back into the elevator. It wasn't time to leave Earth. At least, not yet.
a/n: So, I have writers' jitters. Horrible ones. In an effort to shake them off and get back into writing, I thought I'd tell the short story of how three things in the Sinchi-verse came to be: first, the Lawson Institute; second, the absence of Garrus; and third, why Tali is, well, how she is. It's all come out a bit dark. But I hope you liked it. (Also, I really miss writing Miranda). Thank you to all the lovely people who have kept reading and revewing in my absence!