A/N: So this is new territory for me, as I'm mainly a writer of Final Fantasy fanfiction, but I have always loved the Mass Effect universe, and Garrus makes my short list of all-time favorite characters. This fic has been rolling around in my head for a while now, and I finally decided to just sit down, shut up, and write it out. It should hopefully be a quick and easy read, and I hope you enjoy it!

Scope

A Mass Effect Short Story

By SpacemanSpiff

Breathe in…breathe out…pull the trigger.

His training as a sniper never got the attention it deserved during his tenure in C-Sec, but ever since leaving that life behind over two years ago he had fallen back into it like the arms of a long lost lover. Garrus turned his life as Archangel into his ultimate dream, delivering justice where it was needed most, with the freedom of using his own methods to exact the proper punishment. He had cast aside the shackles of rules and regulations, severed all the red tape, shred the incident reports when things didn't go as planned. Things never went as planned. Nothing ruined the satisfaction of permanently ending a criminal's reign of terror more than the seemingly endless paperwork that followed in its wake.

These trivial thoughts rarely pursued him now, a past life so far away that it could be deemed nonexistent. Now he stared calmly through the scope of his M-97 Viper, his heavily modified Kuwashii visor feeding him biostats and the ambient environmental factors that he needed to ensure a clean kill. Names of the few friends he had made on Omega were etched into the metal of his visor, and this next shot was for all of them. All but the one name that had been mercilessly scratched out…the one who sat blissfully ignorant at the other end of the scope.

Sidonis was the knife in the back that he couldn't explain, that he would never have seen coming. He watched as the Turian traitor anxiously awaited the contact that he and Shepard had coerced Harkin into setting up. Sidonis was careful to stay out of the open clearing, and Garrus wondered if he knew what was coming. His outer mandibles twitched slightly at the thought. He noticed his heartrate jump a few beats, but his suit was quick to deliver a few nanograms of a mild sedative to push it back down into the optimal range for his comfort.

Breathe in…breathe out…

His nerves settled quickly as he saw Shepard enter the circular view of his scope, and it sent him back to when this whole ordeal first began. When Sidonis turned against Garrus and his team, he couldn't believe the utter hell that waited for him upon his return from the smoke-screen mission his former friend had sent him on. The stench of their burned flesh, the stare of their vacant eyes. All of his friends perished that day, and when the realization dawned on him exactly what had happened, it was like a switch had clicked on in his psyche.

All his life he had been taught to do what was right and to do it for the right reasons. He had modified that motto slightly when he left C-Sec in the wake of Sovereign's attack on the Citadel as the true threat was quickly brushed under the rug and forgotten. Shepard had played no small part in the development of his code of justice, either. Seeing how the legendary Spectre was able to cause real and valuable change in the galaxy without the boundaries of strict oversight was inspiring. What he was doing on Omega may have been deemed wrong by the most virtuous, but he knew he was doing it for the right reasons, and it was making a real and tangible difference in people's way of life.

But in the time leading up to this moment, ever since Sidonis's betrayal he had been driven by something primal, something that he couldn't justify with words or moral stature. It was an awakening. Sidonis had…opened his eyes.

Breathe in…Breathe out…

Heartrate was still reading in the acceptable range. He had honed his feelings to a fine edge that he was now able to control with precision and balance. Garrus watched as Shepard approached the Turian, waving him over to the walkway outside the Orbital Lounge. Innocent passersby flitted by, unaware of what was about to transpire. But Garrus's vision was singular. He saw only the target between his crosshairs, and the knowing feeling that everything would soon be right with his world again.

As Sidonis stood up to meet his contact, Garrus watched with an eerie calm, a collected hatred that was firmly settled in and harnessed. He could have taken the shot multiple times by now, but he waited until the moment felt right. He wanted to make sure Sidonis didn't see it coming. He wanted the kill to come from behind as the traitor walked away, thinking he was in the clear, using his rifle as a metaphorical knife in his back. How poetic it would be.

Shepard's head now moved into the crosshairs, effectively blocking his target. Garrus wondered if this was on purpose. They had taken to their usual debate over moral gray areas on the way over to the rendezvous with Sidonis, and as usual the Commander provided the arguments for sparing the traitor's life without pushing one way or the other. Shepard had always been good at getting Garrus to really think about his decisions before making them, and he appreciated the concern. But that was why he was here. He had thought about this more than anything, and there was nothing to stop him from taking one life in honor of ten.

Why should he go on living while ten good men lie in unmarked graves? Garrus had argued. Killing for the sake of killing was wrong, he knew that much. But this was different. This had become something else entirely, and the only way to release it, to shed the weight of the burden was to send it down the barrel of a gun.

Breathe in…breathe out…

"You're in my shot," Garrus notified Shepard through their comlink. There was a hint of fluster in his own voice that he picked up on, but brushed it away. "Move to the side."

"Listen, Sidonis. I'm here to help you," Shepard said, ignoring Garrus's warning and remaining planted in place. Garrus knew the Commander had heard him since the comlink channel was left open. He would be able to hear everything that Shepard and Sidonis said from here on out.

"Don't ever say that name aloud!" Sidonis answered with soft anger, trying to ensure that they would not make a scene in public. Just hearing the coward's voice caused Garrus's heartrate to tick up, his mandibles fluttering with anxious rage. His suit administered another microdose of sedative to keep his biostats within range.

"I'm a friend of Garrus. He wants you dead, but I'm hoping that's not necessary."

"Garrus? Is this some kind of joke?" Sidonis sputtered with surprise.

"Damn it, Shepard. If he moves I'm taking the shot!" Garrus barked, hearing his words echo in the comlink. As if this wasn't difficult enough already. Taking someone's life was never easy for him, even those he felt were justified. But Garrus had already come to terms with this kill, he had understood its value in settling his conscience. Shepard was simply delaying the inevitable.

"You're not kidding are you?" Sidonis spoke again, sounding less surprised and more frightened now.

Good. He should be. Garrus thought as he watched the coward glance nervously around at his surroundings. It actually gave Garrus some mild pleasure to see the traitor sweat under his scope, watching him contemplate the unassured expectancy of his future. But then he noticed Sidonis's face turn from fear to frustration as Shepard failed to answer his question.

"Screw this," the Turian's voice returned to arrogance. He began to turn and walk away, and Garrus's muscles tensed and relaxed as his chance for his shot had finally arrived. Garrus didn't even bother listening to the rest of the traitor's words, only focusing on the crosshairs that would soon pick the spot to drill a fresh hole in the back of Sidonis's head.

"Don't move!" Garrus heard the Commander's stern voice through he comlink.

"Get off me!" he heard Sidonis reel back with his hand, turning to face Shepard again who was still standing between them, blocking his target.

"I'm the only thing standing between you and a hole in the head," the Commander spoke calmly and without remorse, knowing that Garrus had just been given away, and the traitor now knew that his life was immediately on the line. This mattered surprisingly little to Garrus. He would get what he came for no matter what.

"Look…I didn't want to do it…" the coward's words rang hollow in Garrus's ears, failing to illicit any form of sympathy for him. "I didn't have a choice."

"Everyone has a choice," Garrus reminded the Commander, hoping that it might sway the conversation towards an avenue that provided an open shot.

"They got to me. Said they'd kill me if I didn't help," Sidonis conceded, his arrogance just a moment ago deflating into regret. Garrus could tell that he was looking down, hanging his head as some sign of defeat. But he wouldn't be satisfied until his head was hanging from the lack of nerve conduction due to the missing pieces of his cervical vertebrae. "What was I supposed to do?"

You do the right thing, you coward! Garrus screamed in his mind, squeezing the handle of his rifle as though it were the traitor's neck. He was careful not to touch the trigger just yet. He continued to play out this argument with Sidonis in his head, as though he needed any more reasons to kill him. You tell those bastards to go to hell, and you take down as many as you can as you go down fighting!

Breathe in…breathe out…

Garrus was getting flustered, but he was becoming masterful at controlling his biostats now, keeping them optimal without the need for another dose of sedative. He was firm in his convictions at this point, and no amount of grief that came through the com channel was going to change that.

"Let me take the shot, Shepard," Garrus commanded. "He's a damn coward."

"That's it?" Shepard responded. For a split second, Garrus thought the words were meant for him. The words seemed to linger in his head a bit longer than he would have liked. "You were just trying to save yourself?"

If that were the case then this only helped to confirm Garrus's suspicions. Not only was he weak and cowardly, he was selfish beyond repair. All of these traits are abhorred by any Turian worth his fringe. This traitor needed to die.

"I know what I did," Sidonis continued to explain what Garrus felt like was an overacted sob story. He wondered if the coward had rehearsed it, preparing for the day that the one he betrayed came and demanded his life. Sidonis and the Commander moved to a railing nearby, and the traitor slumped down as he rested his hands upon it wearily. "I know they died because of me, and I have to live with that."

You don't have to live with anything. Garrus thought, readjusting the parameters on his scope to account for the new position. The target was reading at a distance of 33 meters, an easy shot for any sniper. He tapped his visor to bring up the new environmental factors that were at play now. A cross breeze had to be taken into account as hover cars whizzed by the railing.

"I wake up every night…sick…and sweating," Sidonis continued explaining to the Commander, his guilt sounding more and more real with every word that came through the comlink. Garrus wanted more than anything to simply tune it out and focus on his objective, but something was nagging at him to keep listening. The investigator in him wanted the full story, wanted to have all the facts before the decision was made. "Each of their faces…staring at me…accusing me. I'm already a dead man. I don't sleep. Food has no taste. Some days I just want it to be over."

Garrus realized he was holding his breath and had been for a while as he listened to Sidonis's confession. He released it and felt a rush of anxiety flood out of him along with it. He relaxed as he contemplated the words of the traitor. He still couldn't understand how anyone he trusted could have done something like this. Pity or not, the Turian needed to pay the price for his injustice, and no amount of time spent in C-Sec lockup would amount to anything close to what he deserved. That is if he was even convicted. Garrus knew well enough that C-Sec had no jurisdiction in the lawless realm of Omega. If Sidonis truly felt any kind of remorse for his actions, then Garrus was about to do him a favor.

Breathe in…breathe out…

"Just give me the chance," Garrus pleaded as his eye met the back of the scope, preparing to release the traitor from the hell he had created for himself.

"Then I'm afraid I can't help you," Shepard finally conceded, again the words sounding like they could have been intended for him. Garrus tried to shake it off as he expectantly awaited the moment he had longed for to unfold. "Do you having anything left to say for yourself? Anything you would like to say to Garrus?"

"Tell Garrus…" Sidonis began, stopping when he realized he couldn't possibly make up for what he had done with anything as thin as his words. He hung his head with a shameful sigh, as though he had given up on everything. "I guess there's nothing I can say to make it right…"

"Then walk away," the Commander responded. It gave Garrus a moment of pause, as he considered the words, considered walking away from all of this. He had come so far, put himself and his comrades in danger just to reach this point, and every fiber of his being was telling him that this needed to be done. So then why was he still holding his breath?

"His life is in your hands now, Garrus," Shepard's voice rang through the comlink, bringing Garrus back to the moment at hand as he let out an exhale, one that was not as comforting as before. He hadn't even been looking through his scope as his mind had wandered through the moral chokepoint.

He peered through the optically enhanced view to see the Commander walking out of view, and Sidonis turning his back to walk the other direction. His gait was slow and feeble, as though he knew what was coming, and somehow that made it worse. Knowing the shame and remorse that Sidonis carried only complicated matters, pushing the scale in a new direction. But he reminded himself of all the pain Sidonis had caused, how his betrayal marred everything that their team stood for, that any respectable Turian stood for.

The question of whether or not to release this traitor from his tortured, dishonorable shell of a life was waiting for an answer. Garrus took one last look through the scope, placing the crosshairs right where the spine met the skull on the back of his head. A kill shot like this would make it painless, instantaneous. Perhaps that was the best thing for everyone. His biostats were all within range, the environmental factors all accounted for. All that he had to do now was breathe and pull the trigger.

Breathe in…Breathe out…

A/N: I chose to leave this open-ended as a way of paying respect to a game that was all about user choice. I also tried to ensure that Shepard remained gender neutral in this fic. In this way, I hope to make it so that you can visualize your own individual Shepards in this role, as well as giving you the liberty of imagining what Garrus would do in your head-canon. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed it, and I'd love to hear what you think about it.

- Spiff