Author's Note: This is rated "T" for the swearing. And to follow the general FF tradition: Mass Effect belongs to the wonderful people at Bioware. I merely play in their glorious playground.
Garrus wasn't sure what to expect as he waited outside the War Room. The two guards, who were normally quite casual, stood at strict attention as he was processed through the security gate, and Joker had sounded downright shaken over the comn. That was what had really caught his attention. Garrus had seen Joker fly circles around kilometer-long Reapers without so much as a quiver in his voice; it took something truly serious for him to be perturbed.
"Good luck sir," Private Copeland said stiffly as he passed through the security gate. She glanced at the door to indicate her meaning and Garrus noticed how tightly she was holding onto her rifle. Not a good sign. He continued past the conference room before a blue sphere appeared in front of the actual War Room entrance.
"Garrus," EDI said as smoothly as ever, "you should be aware that the Commander has blocked my access to the War Room cameras. I believe she requires some...time."
"Right..." Garrus replied drily. "Did she use those exact words? 'EDI, please cease surveillance of the War Room cameras while I do some private things?'"
The AI hesitated. "She used a somewhat...different...tone of voice. And obscure language that Joker described as 'jarhead bullshit'". The blue eyeball stopped its usual pulsing. "I would advise against confronting her in this manner."
"Good advice," Garrus muttered, rubbing his hands nervously. "And normally I'd follow it. But Shepard is holding Samantha hostage in there, and I need to stage a rescue."
"Your logic is sound," EDI replied reluctantly, the tone sounding odd in her usually cool voice as the door opened. "Joker and I wish you luck."
The War Room, as Garrus had expected, was practically deserted. With the quarians gone, there was no more need to have it fully staffed. Only two women stood next to the central console, both dressed in typical Alliance uniform but otherwise different in every way. One had darker skin and a lithe figure, the other was heavily muscled. One had short black hair, neatly cut to military regulations, while the other's dirty blonde hair was strung into a rough ponytail. Most distinctly, one of them looked absolutely terrified.
Samantha caught Garrus' eye as he slowly descended into the pit, then jerked her chin subtly at the central hologram that dominated the room. It displayed its usual map of the galaxy, with the current status of the war and the disposition of Council forces. Garrus found Palaven first, coloured red, and had to resist the urge to shiver. He then looked to Earth, also coloured red, along with half of the entire Systems Alliance. Then the Citadel, coloured a comforting green, and Thessia-
Thessia.
Thessia was amber.
Samantha made a strangled noise as she watched Garrus' reaction. He stared at the small amber symbol for a moment, frozen in disbelief, before meeting her eyes again. The two shared a moment of shared understanding, and Garrus finally remembered what the redness around her eyes meant. He nodded gently, glancing at the door, and the comns specialist walked out without a word, her hands shaking.
Shepard remained utterly oblivious to the byplay. She stared at her personal display with a frightening intensity, one that Garrus had never seen before. He'd been certain that he'd seen all of Shepard's expressions over the years; fury after the Council had locked down the Normandy, silent grief after Virmire and very visible grief after the Collector base. This was different. Never before had Garrus imagined her capable of looking...defeated.
"Shepard-" He stopped mid-breath as her eyes snapped up to his. Words were insufficient. Suddenly feeling awkward, and with Thessia weighing heavily on him, Garrus stepped up to Shepard's left side and looked at what she'd been staring at.
"Asari dreadnaughts?" The words came out before he could stop them, causing Garrus to close his eyes in self-recrimination. "Shepard, I-"
"You're what?" she finally snapped, eyes suddenly ablaze. "Sorry? Sorry you caught me looking at fucking dreadnaught numbers when Thessia was burning? What did you expect? Distress calls? Reaper casualties? Asari fleet casualties? The fucking civilian casualties? Why the hell would I be reading any of that? The first thing I look at, the first fucking thing, is how many dreadnaughts we lost because those are the fucking things we need to kill the fucking Reapers!" Shepard stopped for breath, panting in rapid staccato rhythm as sweat covered her face. She opened her mouth noiselessly, mouth forming unspoken words, before finally slamming a fist down on the console with a wild scream.
"All done now?" Garrus whispered after a moment had passed. Shepard nodded weakly, although he noticed that her other hand was gripping the safety bar so tightly that it was deforming the metal. "You know, I think that's the most I've ever heard you swear." She chuckled hoarsely, eyes closed. "Shepard, you know that it's natural. You're smart enough to be pragmatic."
"Pragmatic." Shepard released the bar and made a determined effort to stand up straight, her hands shaking even worse than Traynor's had been. "That's not the word for it. I'm not...this isn't pragmatic. What kind of person...what kind of thing sees news of the destruction of an entire world, the deaths of billions, and looks at how many dreadnaughts we have left? This isn't the ruthless calculus of war, Garrus. I'm-"
"Still the same woman I met three years ago," he grumbled in reply. "This, Shepard, right here, is what life is. I had the same feeling when I heard that Earth was being attacked. My first thought was how badly the Alliance would be hurt, whether Arcturus was still there, whether you and the Normandy got out okay. It's natural, and you know it."
Shepard's pitying glance at Garrus made him wince. "Don't give me the psychiatric bullshit, Garrus. I love you like a brother, but don't do it. I know enough to know what I'm becoming. Mindoir. Elysium. Eden Prime. Virmire. Horizon. The base. Earth." She shook her head at the last. "You don't get through things like that without scars. I've lost people, people I should've been watching out for, people who did too much bloody much to die like that. Ash, Kasumi, Karin, Mordin, Tali, Thane."
At the last name Shepard shook her head violently, as if to shake the memories away. "I'm becoming a cold hearted bitch, Garrus. Because only a cold hearted bitch can fight this." With a gesture, she changed the display to a previous session.
"Battle of the Citadel," Shepard said harshly. "We lose two turian dreadnaughts. They lose Sovereign. Battle of Khar'shan, we lose fourteen dreadnaughts. The Reapers lose nothing. Battles of Earth and Arcturus, we lose four dreadnaughts. The Reapers lose nothing. Battle of Palaven, we lose twenty dreadnaughts. The Reapers lose seven. We had seventy four dreadnaughts to start with, Garrus. The Reapers still have over three hundred. If I'm not cold, if I'm not ready, if I'm not-"
That was enough. Garrus stepped closer and wrapped his arms around Shepard's body, trapping her within his embrace. For a moment he deeply wished that Thane was still alive, or that he'd woken up Kaidan before coming; both would've been far better at this.
"Don't hold it in," he muttered quietly. Shepard didn't reply, but nor was she sobbing as humans and asari often did. "You've got us, Shepard. Me, Joker, Kaidan, Vega, Liara, Wrex. Samantha too, after she changes her underwear. You're not in this alone." With his free hand Garrus typed lightly on the haptic keyboard, causing the Normandy's flight plan to pop onto the screen. "We have eight hours before we hit Thessia. Go find Kaidan. Be with him."
Shepard stepped back his embrace, nodding drowsily. She walked slowly up the stairs out into the adjoining corridor, eyes dry, hands automatically smoothing her uniform and ponytail as she did so. Garrus watched her go, waiting until Shepard had left the room before allowing his head to drop.
A weight had been lifted off Shepard's shoulders. He knew that. She was the toughest individual Garrus had ever known, capable of winning melees with yahg and brave enough to charge at a Reaper with nothing more than a rifle. Always compassionate, even after losing Ash on Virmire and so many others to the Collectors, including...
Garrus closed his eyes at the memory. He felt it, in that moment, more than at any other point since he'd seen that rocket hit her. He felt part of Shepard's burden fall upon his shoulders, the awful pain of losing someone he'd cared about. After a moment, his three-fingered hands grasped the bar, his own breathing becoming just as tight as Shepard's had been.
There was always a cost.