In an idle moment, Garrus had once wondered whether Shepard's skin tone was inside the normal range of variation for humans, or whether the commander perhaps had some kind of medical condition. He'd ultimately decided it wouldn't be politic to ask, but when the third floor of the Dracon Trade Center went kablooey, he suddenly acquired a whole new frame of reference for the word 'pale'. His friend seemed to shrink, looking up at the great smoking hole in the side of the building, and as the two Spectres made their impromptu plan of attack, the commander's voice was… hollow. They went through the motions of checking on the wounded, then pushed forward into the building on military autopilot.
"Garrus?" Once the squad was alone, Shepard's voice was high and brittle, almost childlike.
"M-maybe she…" Before Garrus could finish offering hollow solace, Shepard tensed, spotting the Shadow Broker's mercs coming around a corner up ahead.
"I'm sorry I didn't let you kill Sidonis. I had no idea what I was talking about."
Garrus flinched for a moment in outright fear of the possibilities his friend's tone of voice implied. Shepard lit a mercenary on fire.
