Prologue

Hope and Grief

He remembers the heavy rain.

He remembers the persistent dramatic flashing of lightning through dark windows. If the weather was any counsel to the nature of the news, he wouldn't have turned up at all. He remembers that it was a Thursday.

He remembers doubtful faces of his beloved colleagues; he remembers the frustration he felt when he heard the tone of their voices and as he studied the depressed language of their bodies.

Garrus Vakarian knew what grief sounded and looked like, it was universal to him. His days at C-Sec had him meeting with grief and loss more than he would've liked. And his attempt at vigilantism was met with the uninvited loss of his teammates. Then the solemn atmosphere of his father and sister scattered across a lonely hospital room, his talons desperately clutching an image of better days with a woman he wished he knew better.

Yes, Garrus Vakarian was definitely well versed in 'grief'. He hoped secretly that by his old age he would become numb towards the stinging feeling he felt whenever he felt that atmosphere in a quiet room.

Liara was the first, or the first he listened to, to speak. She never usually showed any kind of extreme emotion or at least never in his presence but with her brow furrowed, her hand brought up to her mouth in a thoughtful manner she managed to choke out:

"I knew. I knew that no one could've survived when I saw that beam".

The asari doctor quickly and methodically showed her grief through pressured breaths and tears running down pale blue cheeks.

James was the second to speak, even a tough hardened soldier like him looked lost and angry.

"But she was our commander; she survived Saren, geth, the collectors AND Cerberus! Hell, she even fucking died and came back to life!", he slammed his fist on a defenceless wall to make his point. Garrus remembered thinking one word.

'Unfair'.

"If she survived all that shit, Reapers should've have been like fucking...Fuck, I don't know" James couldn't properly express himself through the anger he felt but the whole room knew what he was going to say or they all felt the same frustration towards this end.

Tali broke from her sorrowful stupor and through small sniffs she made a typically diplomatic approach.

"W-We should…We should remember the commander…I mean we should remember her positively a-and how she helped us…Oh Keelah!", Tali turned into the receiving arms of Kaidan as she wept quietly. Tali's words didn't need to be said, they had all heard it before sometime in their lives.

Tali was never really that strong, she was easily broken and vulnerable when it came to the commander. They shared a very sisterly bond, when the commander wasn't in the Gunnery, the sound of boisterous and cheerful laughing was frequently heard from Engineering, much to crews chagrin when they were trying to sleep.

They had their secret little in-jokes that they shared whenever on missions, Garrus always had it explained to him but it would end in 'you had to be there', much to his chagrin. But the three of them together; 'Team Dextro' as the commander lovingly put it, they were unstoppable, they shared more moments in history than anyone alive. And they always did it with a wise-crack at the end.

Garrus was still waiting for that snark little comment. But that one moment at the beam run, that one moment where she could've joked about it, a way to let him know she was going to come back safe and sound, back into his arms with the biggest white smile on her face as they span through embrace.

But at the beam run, it was the first time the friendly smirk was wiped clean off her face. She knew that she wasn't going to come back. Even Garrus knew deep, deep inside that she wasn't coming back. He watched, helpless, as a lonely figure ran out of his grasp, out of his vision and out of his life, a woman he wished he knew better.

But it was damned stubbornness, his delusional hope that kept him waiting and wondering. That hope is why he was there in that sad room, on that particular Thursday, receiving news that he already knew.

He can't remember the useless speeches from anyone after Tali until he himself said something. He was at the back of the room, away from the crowd, leaning on a wall with his arms crossed. He was the one closest to the door, not because he felt alienated from his colleagues (even though it was a very good reason) but the sickening feeling in his stomach as the worst possible outcome of his dear commander became more and more real to him almost vomiting blue liquid, he just didn't want any witnesses to him throwing up. Finally, he spoke and all attention was on him.

"They haven't found a body and you're all acting like this", he spoke clearly with defiance, his head buried in his armour collar, a protective shell from the rest of the world. Tali rested a nurturing hand on his arm, her eyes sensitive and understanding.

But, selfishly, he tore away from her comfort and turned his back on the people he's been through history with. And before leaving, just to make sure that he would break and completely sour the sensitive atmosphere he said;

"I haven't turned my back on the commander". Garrus heard Tali say something as the door shut.

Garrus wished very badly that he would've stayed back then, that he could've listened to Tali's words but none of them understood, not really. He didn't have a homeworld to go back to, his family were safe but he didn't want to bring the angst and anger he felt to already wounded ties with his father and Solana. Garrus decided he would leave them be.

That night he sat on a bed of somewhere he can't remember, in a room that he doesn't know quite where, watching memories of someone he wished he never met. He liked this one the best, before Virmire, he was watching her while Kaidan was busy explaining the perimeters of the mission, and she was listening intently, sharp decisive nods and short eyebrows furrowed meaningfully. For a moment she breaks this focus and catches his longing, watchful eye and for a second their eyes meet, if only he'd known that her glance was longing for him too, if only he'd known that stupid little schoolgirl crush she developed on the hot-headed turian officer. She looked embarrassed, quickly breaking a forbidden glance and scratching the back of her neck. The log ends there.

He liked it so much because it felt fresh to him, like he discovered something new. Garrus watched it so much he could predict movements, the exact moment of Kaidan's words where she shyly looked away, he obsessed over it so much, and he even looked up the type of armour she was wearing that day, the rifles she had used.

One night he accidentally stopped, while rewinding to his favourite moment, at their first night together. Doe blue eyes looked up to him smiling, her dark long hair entwined in his fingers, curiously playing and lovingly stroking it, she laid with him and he wished he could stop the natural progression of memories from recalling her sheer warmth. The sound of her voice was enough to send him over the edge. He wept into his hands, throwing his visor, a friend in itself, across the room and into a wall.

He never touched those logs again, he considered deleting them but he couldn't even bring himself to do that.

He remembers heavy rain that night, a relentless shower that washed away tears of a woman wished he never met a woman who he wished he knew better, a woman who didn't deserve her own fate.

Nine years has passed since then.