Between missions, Garrus did little else beyond calibrations. It wasn't as though there was anything else to do. He could always hang with the other crewmembers and let them praise him for reasons extending to events he can't even recall. That wasn't his style, however, and making new friends would only remind him of the ones he lost on Omega. There were times when he when down to the engine room and chatted about with Tali, but they didn't do it that often on the first Normandy so why not rinse, lather, and repeat. Repetition was everywhere you looked. Sure the Normandy was bigger, badder, and brought a greater sense of moral to everyone… but it was still the same. The Council replaced by Creberus; the Geth replaced by the Collectors; and all the missions were centered on the Reapers just as before. The only thing new to any of this was the aquarium in Shepard's loft. But just as reviewed, calibrations were far more important to Garrus.
Once in a while he would talk with Shepard about this and that – dead friends and one remaining "friend" left behind. But since then, it's just been dull. No excitement. Garrus wasn't one to think of himself in the grand scheme of the mission. This was far more important than his boredom. He just needed to focus on calibrating weapons for the eventual attack and that would be that.
But then something happened…
Shepard surprised him once more with a sudden unplanned visit, always accompanied by the same question to be replied with the same answer. A little dance the two choreographed well enough. Only Shepard changed it up this time.
"Hey Garrus, what's up?"
Shepard was leaning on the closed walls of the room Garrus spent his time doing what he does best; doing the only thing he's been doing for the past weeks. Shepard was breathing heavily, but looked calm on the outside. A little unbalanced by Garrus' view. Alcohol?
"Shepard, something you…"
Yes, alcohol, but unopened and in hand. Some inter-species friendly liquor that was cheap and available back on the Citadel.
Garrus continued, "You need anything commander?"
Shepard took a while to respond. The dark room took a darker undertone, and even though Shepard was far enough away for personal space, Garrus felt uncomfortable; as though being squeezed into a corner.
"Garrus, I just…"
"Wait." Garrus interjected. He could shoot of heads from miles away, so it was easy to see what Shepard was doing from across the room. Garrus had two thoughts on his mind.
"Not now, Shepard." Garrus confirmed concretely. "Not now, and this isn't it."
Shepard heard him, but still needed a few minuets to understand what happened. It was awkward to say the least. Garrus wanted to turn back and do calibrations, but that was his friend in front of him (his commanding officer too) and couldn't, wouldn't, didn't turn away so dishonoring like to someone who he knew and respected so well. That said, Garrus didn't review his words before reciting them, and they stung Shepard.
It was just like his death all over again; loss of air, blood evaporating, the heat of the atmosphere burning his flesh to char, with the impact of shattered bones and splattered inners being the only sound release. But commander Shepard knew death before, and knew how to control his reaction.
Turning away he apologized of the inconvenience and said goodbye. That was his friend too in there – just a friend. Garrus turned back the consul feeling guilty, but what else was he to say. He didn't know then the right words, and wouldn't…until it happened again a few days later.
Author's Note: I did this a while ago, never finished it, but picked it back up for some odd reason. Please enjoy. The chapters will be about the same length as this + or - a few paragraphs. Peace!