Garrus stops the elevator on the third level.
Beside him, the Primarch frowns. "Vakarian? It's the second level we need," he says.
"I know that," Garrus says. "But Shepard said he needed to see us here as soon as possible. He said it wouldn't take long. We should get whatever it is out of the way."
The Primarch hesitates but concedes. "Very well." Garrus can hear in his sub-harmonics that he doesn't care either way. Not that he cares about much of anything at the moment.
The door opens, and they step out. Immediately, Garrus sees the commander standing in front of the memorial wall, staring at the names. He turns, and in his face, Garrus sees the tired and vacant look he's long since come to expect from the man. His green eyes, never expressive to begin with, look emptier than ever.
"Primarch. Garrus," he says. He tries to inject a little life into his voice, but his efforts fall flat. "Good to see you. I promise this won't take much of your time."
"What is it, Shepard?" Garrus asks. His sudden concern bleeds over from his sub-harmonics into his voice. He's worried about Shepard for a long time, and with every day that passes, every new disaster they hear of, every person they lose, his fear only grows. Surely, he thinks, even Shepard isn't strong enough to stand up under the burden of all this.
Shepard turns his attention to Victus. Garrus notices he has something long and thin in his hand, which he now offers to the Primarch. "I want you to do the honour of putting this on the wall," he says.
Victus hesitates again, but after a moment, he carefully takes the strip in his hand. He looks at it, then at the wall. "Tar—oh." At that moment, it instantly clicks for Garrus. "Shepard, I—I thought this was for Alliance members only."
The commander shakes his head. "Not at all. If anyone had been lost on the suicide mission months ago, who hadn't been Alliance, their name would be up here. I assure you. And this, what happened today, I wanted to remember."
Victus looks down at the strip in his hand again, then up, and then nods. "Yes," he says vacantly. "Yes, of course." Garrus watches in solemn silence as he steps forward.
He bends down and, carefully, on the first available space on the left-hand side of the memorial wall, he places the strip. Garrus reads the name, though he doesn't need to. Tarquin Victus. A man who had failed, but who had more than redeemed himself with his sacrifice—who would be honoured forever as a hero. A man who any father could be proud of.
Not that that's much comfort to Victus.
The Primarch stands up and remains standing before the wall. He lets out a ragged breath, something close to a gasp, and then in the next instant, buries his face in his hands. Garrus quietly comes forward and puts a hand on his shoulder.
He can't hear him crying, but he doesn't need to.
After a long, silent moment, Victus looks up and at the commander. "Ah… Forgive me, Shepard. I…" He can't continue.
Shepard shakes his head. "There's nothing that needs forgiving," he murmurs.
Victus nods. "Thank you for this," he says. "I… it means more than I… I can put into words."
"Of course," Shepard says, nodding as well. "Thank you, as well."
He steps back, and Garrus guides the Primarch back into the elevator. Now he looks like how Garrus thinks Shepard must feel—bent and crushed beneath the weight of his burden and his fresh grief. As Garrus presses the button to go to the second level, he tries to master himself, but his efforts are largely unsuccessful.
Damn war, Garrus thinks.