A/N: Well hello there! So this is something I've been working on for the past three weeks for the kinkmeme, along with what feels like twenty other fills lol. The prompt was for Shepard to dump Garrus during their reunion after Menae, and remember that bottle of wine he pulls out if you say yes? Well, instead, he drowns his sorrows in it. Cue lots of drunken angst. If you have the time, I'd really love reviews, as it's been a very long time since I attempted a chaptered fic and I'm rusty with character development =) I'm also looking for a beta, so if you're interested, I'd love to hear from you!

There's about five chapters, which I'll post as I go along and edit them. I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it!

Undone

Chapter One: Welcome to Heartbreak

The main battery was warm and calm, the slight hum of the guns echoing off the walls. Garrus placed the small bag that housed all his belongings by the door as he stepped into the room. The lighting was slightly dimmer, and they had put in a new screen along one wall, but it was pretty much just as he remembered. He powered up the console in front of the guns, quickly scanning through the firing programs he had spent months perfecting; just a brief glance told him that he wasn't quite done with calibrations yet, as the Alliance engineers had apparently felt the need to tinker with his code.

He huffed, then moved to examine the guns. Repairmen had made space to access the cannon hardware more easily, and a closer inspection showed that they hadn't quite finished their retrofitting, and the panelling still needed to be fixed. Well, he thought, may as well get started now.

He packed away his things, then picked out a few tools from the drawer under the console and began to put the panelling back in place. It was boring but soothing, which helped ebb the adrenaline still running in his veins from the fighting earlier. The cannons were the same ones he'd installed all those months ago, and he wondered why they hadn't been replaced by newer models which were on the market now. He worked in silence, enjoying the normalcy of being back on the Normandy.

His mind wandered to the day's events, replaying everything in snippets. It had been a hell of a day, that was for certain. A Primarch dead, a new one crowned (one of his friends, no less), and Shepard had found him. The pure joy he had felt when he first saw her jogging up the stairs of the bunker to speak with Corinthus washed over him again. Seeing her alive had quelled the pit of fear that he had carried for well over a week, ever since the news of the attack on Earth had filtered through Palaven military. He'd had barely enough time to swallow the information before Primarch Fedorian had him relocated to Menae, speaking of Reaper scouts on the edges of the Apien Crest. It was lucky, really, that he had been there when Shepard came; another week or so and they would have lost that moon, and he would have gone with it.

Shepard. How many times had he repeated her name in his mind, finding strength in his memories of her to live another day? Everything he knew was falling apart around him, from his family to his homeworld, but the thought that she was out there somewhere had sustained him through that hell. He would have never even imagined she would find him there and bring him home; even after six months spent travelling on Palaven, there was nothing quite as comforting as the wide white halls and bright lights of the Normandy. He switched a screwdriver for a wrench, and wondered in afterthought if the comfort he felt here was because of the ship itself or it's commanding officer. Probably the latter.

A ping overhead disturbed his thoughts, and he looked up at the camera where he knew the ship's AI was watching. EDI had grown on him immensely during the suicide mission; her knowledge and intelligence had been incredibly useful during his calibrations. He'd come to respect her as an equal by the time Shepard turned herself in to the Alliance.

"Officer Vakarian, there is an incoming call for you from Primarch Victus," EDI's voice resounded off the metal walls. He flared his mandibles crookedly at the camera.

"Please, it's just Garrus. I'm glad to see the Alliance didn't turn you into scrap metal, though I'm curious how you managed to escape being discovered..."

"They had no reason to suspect a mere VI, after all," she replied with a tinge of amusement. Aha, he thought, of course. "Shall I put the Primarch through?"

"Yes, thanks."

"Logging you out, Garrus."

Her voice was replaced by the deep, flanging one of the Primarch, who sounded just as weary as Garrus felt.

"Garrus, settled in alright?"

"Yes sir, it's good to be back."

The Primarch's rumbling laugh filled the room. "I'm glad at least one of us is familiar with the ship, I can barely find my way around here. I had some things to discuss with you concerning the fleets, if you have a moment?"

"Of course, sir."

They had been speaking for quite a while when he heard the familiar swishing sound of the door opening. Must be making her rounds, he thought, but didn't look up from the soldering iron in his hand.

"If anything, you can count on Shepard, sir. She'll get the job done."

"I'll hold you to that, Garrus. I'll let you get back to work." The intercom buzzed out above him, and he finally turned off the iron and turned to look at Shepard. She was leaning against the wall just a few metres from him, a small smile on her face as she observed him. She looked slightly more weary than he remembered, but otherwise she was just as he'd left her, which was assuring. She held his gaze for a moment before speaking.

"Garrus, didn't waste any time getting to work I see." He flared his mandibles in a grin.

"After everything I've been through lately, calibrating a giant gun is a vacation. Gives me something to focus on." She nodded and pushed away from the wall to take a few steps closer to him, placing a hand against the railing.

"We're gonna need you for more than your aim."

He looked away for a moment to collect his thoughts. Everything seemed okay; it was a good sign. "Oh, I'm ready for it. But I'm pretty sure we'll still need giant guns, and lots of them."

She laughed softly, the sound pleasant in his ears. It made him realize just a little more how much he had missed her. "I can't argue with that." She relaxed further as silence fell between them but he stiffened, wringing his hands slightly. He had to ask. Get it over with before he got too hopeful.

"Yeah... so..." He pressed a hand against the cold panelling of the gun, and looked her straight in the eye. "Is this the part where we... shake hands? Wasn't sure about the protocol on reunions." He paused for a moment, trying to figure out how to say the next words without driving her away, because Spirits knew that was the last thing he wanted right now. "Or if you still feel the same way about me. The scars are starting to fade, I remember they drove you wild." She laughed again, but he didn't miss the nervous undertone in it. He stepped closer, not quite reaching for her. "But I can get all new ones if it'll help."

Well, he thought, not bad for a last ditch effort. She was quiet for a moment, before exhaling and straightening herself.

"I appreciate everything you've been to me, Garrus." The knot in his stomach tightened; he knew what was coming, and wasn't ready to hear those words. "A friend, a lifesaver, and more. But right now, I need the friend. I need you watching my back."

He looked at her for a moment longer, before turning away to hide his surprise. Dozens of emotions flitted through his mind, harassing him with self-deprecating thoughts, but he suppressed them as best he could. Shepard could leave if she wanted to, after all. He had no right to force her to stay. "I understand. Distractions could be dangerous at a time like this." He turned back to face her, even though meeting her eyes just... hurt.

"You were never a distraction, Garrus."

Well, he thought, if you're gonna be just friends, at least end it well. "Well, whatever we were, I enjoyed it Shepard. No regrets here."

"Never."

"Then friends it is." They shook hands, and he memorized the feel of her skin one last time before letting go. If that was all he could have, he could live with that.

"So," she started, a smile forming on her face, "what's this about being an expert advisor on Reapers?"

The door closed behind Garrus with a muffled hiss, and he didn't know whether to sigh in relief or hit his head against the wall. He compromised, bracing his hands against the console and letting his head hand slack as he tried to understand what just happened. Questions flooded his thoughts, all of which he had no answer to.

He didn't know what to do. The silence ate at him as his mind drifted once more, to past memories and future plans and — Oh. Right. He heaved a sigh and reached for the drawer where he had placed a rather pricey bottle of wine to share with Shepard whenever they had a chance. Of the few things he had brought with him before being transferred to Menae, he'd remembered to bring this. It had been a spur of the moment purchase really, something he'd seen at a liquor store in Cipritine while searching for his favourite brandy, and couldn't help but get after thinking of Shepard. At the time, it had felt slightly silly. Now it just made him an utter fool.

He set the bottle down on the console, staring at it as if it had all the answers to Shepard written on the label. He debated inwardly, trying to figure out what to do with it. There was no reason to save it for a good occasion now, and it would be a waste of good credits to dump it. He entertained the idea of cracking it open and drowning his thoughts in it, and the little voice in his head found the idea quite agreeable. At least it would make the numbness go away.

He opened the bottle and dug out a glass from another drawer. He poured more than he usually did, but thought nothing of it as he downed it all in one long swallow. Well, at least it was the good stuff.