It was an iconic moment in the post-Reaper era, bolstering the reconstruction efforts by orders of magnitude: Captain Shepard in her armour, addressing the species united by a war against impossible odds. A war they had won. Her words needed no microphone, the strength in her voice carrying them unchanged towards the immense crowd gathered in front of the reconstructed Systems Alliance headquarters, broadcasted throughout all the Galaxy.
"We have fought and we have sacrificed, we have lost and we have mourned. But we have won. Let us rejoice in the peace that so many have died for and let us never forget them, but honour their memory by looking to the future. Asari, quarians, salarians, batarians, turian, drell - a small pause as she scanned the crowd -, krogan, rachni, geth, human, elcor, volus and vorcha have come together, each giving strength and comfort to the other as the twilight of suffering gathered closer. Let us not forget what the galaxy can achieve when it does so together. Let us fight no longer for survival, but for a common future!"
The crowds roared their approval, billions of voices shouting in unison, old grudges buried, if not overcome, and at the center of it were an unlikely group of heroes, each already a god amongst our own people. The Army of the Normandy we were called now, or the Pantheon for those more inclined to poetry.
I was one of the few who knew that the only reason she was in her armour was so that she would not be in a wheelchair. They could not afford to show a legend weakened. The tiny mass effect fields implanted in the legs acted as a concealed exoskeleton that allowed her to retain the appearance of the Unbreakable, Savior of the Galaxy and Avatar of Victory. Behind the schooled mask of strength lay the vulnerable, broken image of a lost soul floundering aimlessly.
I was the only one to know that, and as I carried her to the medbay, I basked in her presence, consumed by the fire of her body, alive. The back of my fringe shivered as I felt her touch on my hand, lambent as Palaven rain and unsteady. It had been a long struggle to regain the use of her hands, and we would be in for a longer one still to regain her legs.
"Ready for phys therapy, Shepard?" I tried to sound reassuring, but the pit in my gizzard churned endlessly, fully aware of what was coming next.
"No, I don't want to go to therapy today, Garrus. Take me away from here, please." her voice was barely a whisper, eyes downcast and staring at her useless legs.
"Not an option, soldier, I can't let the Savior of the Galaxy look like an old lady when she goes out in public, now can I?" I cursed myself for the fool that I was.
I could not be her, I could not blaze a light that burned throughout the whole known world, beckoning others to follow in her footsteps, allaying all their fears and hurt with a simple touch. She consumed me, devoured me entirely, and I was giving up my light, my life, willingly, so that she could continue.
"I thought you'd say that, you were always an insubordinate one." her mask cracked and she smiled, but it did not touch her eyes.
She was retreating farther into remembrance and I wondered if Thane had somehow managed to teach her the inner workings of his eidetic memory, to ensure that he would linger in the recesses of her heart, waiting for the right trigger to bring him back to the surface, in her glazed over eyes.
She had come to me one distant afternoon, after we had fought over her letting Sidonis slip through our hands like sand over the Mycene desert. She ambled towards my station in the Main Battery, hands on her hips provocatively, her otherwise ungraceful walk turned to thighs swaying invitingly towards me. My visor should have noted the increase in temperature in the room, but instead it uselessly beeped a warning that my heart rate was elevating.
I told her that I did not have a fetish for humans, but did not hide my regard for her. In all honesty, she was not a human to me, but a preternatural force that sent men and women alike careening in her wake, at times fearful for their life, at others overjoyed at the billow that swayed destiny itself to her whims. Who was I to stand besides her then? A washed-out cop, a failed vigilante, a disgraceful son, an absent brother and a bitter turian. Nobody.
She was not upset when I suggested she might be more interested in something closer to home, instead embracing me in that human fashion that I could never truly replicate, her hands barely reaching to encompass part of my carapace.
Long after that, I realised that what I saw on her face was not relief she felt at my apparent refusal. She found the comfort she seeked in the arms of the drell assassin, nonetheless. When it became rumors, then gossip, and then certainty, it was not bitterness that welled inside of me, but a keen sense of loss sharpened to the precision of an omni blade.
I saw them on the field, in the intimacy of the Life Support, in the warm glow of the mess hall, together, forging memories that he would not forget and she would never relinquish. I held her trembling frame as she mourned him, broken but not beaten. As her chest heaved in my arms, I was amazed at how soft her flame-red hair was, how fragile her unprotected skin felt against my hardened plates, how her tears welled in her eyes, spilling on her face in small rivulets. Turians don't cry, but sometimes I wish they did. I wanted her to know how much she was hurting me, how hopeless I felt that I had forever lost her, though she lay in my embrace.
She was the only reason I abandoned my station, my family, my people as they were ravaged by the Reapers. I betrayed a thousand vows just so that I could have one last chance before we all died. Was I foolish and naive? No, Omega had turned me into a cynic and Menae had turned me ruthless, but I was still young and clinged to the hope that she will see the unwavering devotion I held for her.
But she was blind as she took every chance to visit the Huerta Memorial Hospital, returning halfway drugged from kissing Thane. Funny thing, these interspecies liaisons.
Her voice beckons to me now, feeling every bit as far as the distant oceanside beaches she imagines when she closes her eyes, hoping to see him standing there, waiting for her. She resents my saving her from death four years ago, I know, but I can not bring myself to tell her that I'm sorry. I am jealous, I am selfish and at night I can not stand to look at the barefaced reflection staring back at me in the mirror.
"Garrus, are you practicing meditation by some chance?" she jabs and tries to smile, but it's a garish sight, cold and unfeeling.
I feel her pain when she screams, profanities flowing from a broken dam. Her legs might be useless, but they are still painful as I move them to her chest, training her muscles against her will. It matters not that I wished she welcomed the touch, I will do it nonetheless. For her.
This time there is something different in the air, some measure of tension overloading my senses, filling them with apprehension. Her face is a contorted mask, but her gold-flaked chestnut eyes regard mine with undiluted hatred.
"You should have left me on the Citadel to die in peace, I should have joined him by the sea. He's waiting for me and I'm betraying him with every breath I take!" she snarls contemptuously at me, the most accessible dam for the waves of her fury to slam against. I know I can weather this storm, as I have many other before.
"Huh, I would have invited you to a bar, turians are not much for the sea."
"I wish you'd stop being a devoted pup following me around. I hate you being here, seeing me like this."
"No, Shepard, you don't hate me, you hate that I'm not Thane." I admit, every word feeling like a pall has just been dragged over the corpse of my soul as I see water welling in her eyes again.
"I'm so sorry…" her sobs are barely coherent "You're right, god...damn the skies. I wish he were here, I wish I were there, but it's neither here nor there."
"Well, it'd be easy to pretend he was here, we both have incredibly sexy voices. Although you and I both know I'm still the handsomest between us." I regard her affectionately, rewarded by the small chuckle that involuntarily overtakes her.
As I tuck the edge of the blankets behind her knees to keep her warm, I wonder why she chose to rewatch Fleet and Flotilla for the thousandth time. It's a ritual we go through almost every night, after her duties to the Alliance are fulfilled: we both watch the news of the reconstruction effort, sitting in companionable silence on the couch, then she turns on her omni-tool to look at the messages he left for her and I make myself scarce, returning only when I know she needs my soothing presence. Just a warm body, unfortunately too misshapen for her to pretend it's a drell's.
She calls his son, taking a vested interest in his life and continued evolution in C-sec, advising him on the best mods to use against biotics, or armored units, or powerful soldiers. He chuckles and lets her know that he's afraid to shoot someone, knowing there are twenty forms to fill in case he misses, forty five in case the wound is non-fatal, and eighty-nine in case it is. I know his pain and join in on the joke, reminding him that he's forgetting about the thirty-seven forms he would have to file in case the area of the shootout was densely populated.
Only then does she ask me to turn on the movie, so she could sleep, she says. In the back of my mind, I know it's to punish me, to remind me of the chance I had thrown away, to find peace with Tali.
I can still remember my quarian's beautiful face as she removed her helmet's plate on Rannoch and trained her luminescent eyes on mine, her full mouth quirking into a shy smile.
"Garrus, welcome to my home planet." her heavily accented voice drawled out in that sing-song manner I had come to care for.
She smelled like incense and antiseptic, things so intimately linked to her that my heart still skips a beat when I feel them in the air.
"Tali, I...can't stay. I'm sorry." I stuttered, feeling every bit as awkward as a fresh recruit in boot camp, fifteen and weaned off.
"I know, bosh'tet, I've always known. But you're not going to Palaven, either, are you?" was there always so much expression in her face? So much world-weary sadness?
"No, no I'm not."
"Garrus, listen to me. I may have been a child when you met me, but I knew. I lied when I said I was using you for your body, but I'm not blind, either, regardless of your battle quips about my helmet. It was her, it was always her."
"I don't know what to say, I...wanted things to go right between us. I wanted something to go right, for once."
"Go to her, you may still have this chance. I will remember you, Garrus Vakarian, and I will not resent you for your choice." her hand brushed lightly against my mandibles as she closed the distance between us, pressing her lips gently against my mouthplates. Something I had never felt before. Would I again?
I left her in the sunset, as the light faded away on a life that I had wanted, but could not bring myself to take. She would have a house, a home, and I would be no part of it. No longer my quarian.
The day I feared most has finally arrived, and I feel gutted to see her walk. She sways uncertainly at first, but finds her balance and tentatively rolls on the balls of her feet. One small step, barely lifting her foot off the floor, then another, then another, until she collapses in my arms. Spirits, she is so soft, her flesh yielding beneath my arms as I pick her up and spin her around, the sound of her laughter melting my plates. The next day another step more, then another, and another, until she is running and I no longer have a use.
She's away more these days, spending her time with Kolyat, reminiscing about his father and her lover. I try to occupy myself with work and scoff as Councillor Tevos offers me her time. I seem to have garnered quite the xenophiliac fame. At night she returns to me, guilty and sheepish, her long silences a loud testament. She doesn't have to explain anything, I say, but I secretly think that the brandy I've been chugging has given me enough explanations.
"Why do you do this to yourself? Why do you not go on with your life?" her words are not angry, yet I flinch from her husky, deep voice nonetheless. I had hoped that she would change, that she would see me, know my face, now that she didn't request that I play those videos every single day.
"Why don't I?! Why don't you?! I'll tell you why: because for four years, six months, eight hours and fifty-seven minutes you were my life." Loud, too loud, then soft, restraining myself "But you have a point, I have no right to stay here, in the shrine you've erected for him." and then I hate myself for saying this, but I can't stave off the bitterness "Are you sure he's waiting for you, or that his wife has been waiting for him all along?"
I know full well what I did, the suffering and betrayal my words have caused are written clearly on her face. But I am a terrible person and I can't take it back. I need no other words, even if she weren't stunned into silence. I pack my bags and leave, all of my worldly possessions in a duffel bag. As I close the door, I wonder if it's sadness in her eyes or relief; probably the latter.
The Citadel is still a mess of beams and exposed steel, but some wards have been reconstructed. I find it fitting, a perfect contrast to my mental state, as I wait for the transport that will return me to Palaven, to my family. What would Sol and dad say to me, a stranger reaching out to them from another life?
"Garrus, wait!" I hear my name and I cringe at the weakness of my heart, hallucinating what surely isn't there. The urge to look around cannot be fought, so I give in, confirming that she is nowhere in sight.
"Garrus Vakarian, stop, please!" her plea is broken, but still strong, a mass of onlookers crowded around her, clamoring for her attention. I only pick her out by the red color of her hair, bobbing up and down as she struggles to free herself from followers. Regardless of how much I want her to suffer, to turn my back on her, I want her more.
"Shepard…" my breath hitches as she runs towards me, her strong legs propelling her through the myriad obstacles in our path. C-sec agents follow on her trail, an amusing sight: to protect the protector herself. I'd have given my life to hear her say my name with longing, but I never thought it would require my leaving.
"Garrus, I…need to talk to you" her words are lies, each and every one of them, as she throws her arms around my carapace, bringing them to rest on my cowl, twined behind my neck. Her hands fit perfectly in the space left by my natural armor, feeling cold in comparison to my higher body temperature.
We don't need to talk and she knows that, tugging on my neck to bring my head closer to hers, her lips moist and soft on my mouthplates. In the background I see a glimpse of Kolyat standing awkwardly near a skycar, forcing himself to ignore the spectacle on display, headlined by two of the Galaxy's heroes. I shield her from the mass of omnitools flashing and filming, retreating into the safety of the car. This is not the Captain Shepard people need to see, exposed and vulnerable. But her lips on mine, I want the world to see that, to find some measure of hope amongst the rubble that is our lives.
The silence on the ride back home is loaded, air hanging heavy between the three of us. It's Kolyat that first breaks it, turning the black holes that are his eyes towards me from the driver's seat for just a second.
"Councillor Vakarian, it's an honor to see you again. I never forgot the kind words you said about my father at his wake. He would have been glad to know so many people considered him their friend...or partner. Thank you for giving me such a wonderful memory." his raspy voice is so much like his father's that, for a moment, I see Thane as I knew him, humble, serious, humorless. A man I respected beyond words. A man that took everything from me.
"I don't know how well you knew my dad, but drell have a very powerful memory. Some choose to retreat fully into their memories when their lives take a turn for the worse, which is generally frowned upon in our society. Solipsism, we call it. I have to admit, the urge is strong on some days, when I want to remember my mother smiling while my father and I dance crazy. But life is so much more rewarding, albeit painful."
"I knew him well enough to mourn his passing with sincerity. He has left a mark on all of us aboard the Normandy, although he generally kept to himself. He was...grounding earth for some, ethereal air for others."
Shepard shifts in the backseat, clearly uncomfortable with the progression of the discussion. Whatever he has said to her, whatever brought her here, it was strong enough to elicit an uncharacteristic reaction from her.
"I am sure Captain Shepard will explain it better than I could. You two surely have a lot to talk about."
He took his leave shortly after landing the skycar near our apartment, a slight smile parting his lips and exposing his porcelain-perfect teeth. We shook hands, promising to meet again in the near future, when we were both more predisposed.
Both?
Shepard wasted no time as she forcefully took my duffel bag away from me, throwing it through the doorway and haphazardly emptying its contents on the couch with such speed that her motions were a blur. Screaming, anger, remorse, hatred, relief, happiness, determination, I had seen all of these emotions cloud or light her face and I took my respite in each and every one of them, but I had never before seen abject fear in it. I was rooted to the floor, slack-jawed and watching her curious ritual as she skittered about, placing every item back in its own place with almost reverent care.
"Are you afraid to be alone, is this what this whole thing is about?" the words slip carelessly through my gritted teeth, anger making my vision turn blue. She stops her mad dash with a pair of my pants still in her hands, a humorous posture if I'd been in a place to appreciate it.
"No, Garrus, I'm not afraid of being alone. I'm afraid of being without you." the material slips between her fingers and she lets it fall to the floor like a probe on an uncharted territory. "I...talked to Kolyat after you left. The... the apartment felt like it had a hole in it about your size and shape. His own words were 'Solipsism should never be a choice, siha. You have to let my father rest, for your sake. For the living.' "
The words felt bittersweet in my chest, but I exhaled and gave them life:
"I've loved you for so long without asking for anything in return. I watched civilizations crumble, whole worlds swallowed by darkness, and all I could think of was keeping you safe, protecting you, the only light source I saw in this whole Universe. It didn't matter who you chose to stand on your right, I was always on your left. But I was selfish, and I couldn't let you rest. I wanted to be in the shadow of your sun. I'm sorry."
I had forgotten how sweet the tinkle of her strange human laughter is, how it morphs her malleable face with joy, making the gold in her eyes more precious than any we had mined on countless missions.
"Thane was my ocean, soothing and mysterious" my heart sinks at the thought that she brought me here just to humiliate me, but no, that kiss, it can't be... "But you were always my lighthouse, Garrus, shining through the storm, guiding the derelict ship that I was back to safety. I want you to shine again for me, help me remember how to be alive. No, I need you to, like I've never needed anything before."
I don't speak for fear that my voice will be hoarse and cracked, but I step towards her, carefully, as if I fear personnel mines at each step. With a slight jerk, I hook the pants with a toe and send them flying across the floor, as far away as I can manage. There will be no more interruptions, no more barriers.
Today, finally, we are alive.