Right Through Me - Chapter 1

Disclaimer: As usual, all the important bits like characters, world, etc (pretty much everything but the situation) are Bioware's and not mine. Pity that...

Is there anything that I need to say that hasn't been said before
I've been polite for too long, why should I be anymore
Better now than never, better loud than clever
Better just to play the fool
It's times like this when you just close your eyes and kiss
'Cause everything after this is just bullshit and being cruel

Fearless – Matthew Good Band

Lugging a crate up the aisle towards the main battery, Aurora Shepard was both more nervous and more excited than she could remember being in a very, very long time. Saving humanity was full of excitement, but it was rarely the pleasant mix of excitement and apprehension that she felt just now. Usually it was the gut-clenching, heart-pounding, sweat-inducing anticipation of fighting for one's life - nothing at all like the childlike thrill that made her glow with pleasure as she struggled with her awkward burden.

I hope this isn't too soon; I hope he understands.

Shepard's interference in Garrus' quest to avenge his murdered squad had nearly destroyed their friendship, and despite the fact that things had only recently returned to normal between the companions, she knew Garrus was still struggling to reconcile pardoning Sidonis with the lingering guilt he felt. Broaching the subject of what had happened on the Citadel with Sidonis would be awkward and painful for them both, but it had to be done. Like any other wound, those to the spirit had to be fully cleansed of debris before the healing could begin in earnest.

Well, no time like the present, came the unbidden response to her growing trepidation. Besides, I come bearing gifts.… Even turians accept peace offerings.

The crate had been sitting in the Normandy's hold while Shepard waited for the right time to give it to Garrus. Weeks had passed, but the right time never seemed to eventuate, and finally Shepard had realised that it never would, unless Garrus was willing to move past Omega and Sidonis.

After her epiphany, Shepard had briefly contemplated sending Kelly to try to talk to the stoic turian, to finally put her skills to good use, but since Garrus seemed particularly uncomfortable around the bubbly Yeoman, it was never really an option. There was no one else who could talk to the Garrus the way Shepard could - or used to be able to - so she knew the job of trying to help him confront his personal demons fell to her.

The fact that her interference could end with him leaving the Normandy, and her service, for good was foremost in her mind as she carried the crate up from the lower decks. If she said the wrong thing, the situation would quickly deteriorate beyond her control. If she remained silent, her friend's misplaced guilt and anger would eventually wear him down until there was nothing left of the idealistic, vigilante soul she so respected.

Unwilling to lose her best friend by staying silent, and never one to avoid a confrontation, Shepard had marched, crate in hand, to the gun battery and steeled herself for whatever would follow.

'EDI,' she asked, 'can you open the door please? And lock it once I'm in,' she added in a quieter voice.

'Of course, Shepard,' came the instant reply. 'Would you also like me to inform Mr Moreau that you are not to be disturbed?'

'Actually, EDI, could you just block all comms while I'm in there, cameras too? I don't want to hear a peep out of Joker, short of impending disaster – really impending disaster. I'd like a bit of privacy, just this once. Garrus deserves that much at least.'

'Very well, Commander, although Mr Moreau will not be happy.'

'I know, but just tell him I ordered it. I owe you one, EDI. Thanks.'

The doors swished shut behind Shepard as she stepped into the small workspace and readjusted her hold on the crate. The damned thing was an awkward shape and size, with handles designed for a turian grip, not a human's smaller, softer hands.

'Shepard, need me for something?' His back to the door, Garrus stood at the primary interface for the SR2's main guns. He was still dressed in the scarred blue Agent armour that he refused to replace or repair.

'A hand would be nice.' Shepard grunted in frustration as the crate began to slip out of her hands. 'And you could tell me how the hell you always know when it's me.' Garrus had responded to her presence without even looking, his attention still focussed on the screen in front of him as he adjusted the targeting and firing systems yet again.

Garrus turned towards his commander and quickly relieved her of her burden before it could slip out of her grasp. 'Well, you smell...'

Shepard raised her eyebrows and opened her mouth to respond, but he quickly continued.

'Ah, that didn't come out right – what I meant was that you smell different than the others on the ship.' Realising he hadn't actually made anything better with his last comment, he broke off and placed the crate on the floor between them.

Shepard lifted her arms and sniffed from hers fingertips to shoulder, trying to identify the offending odour. 'Damn it, I still smell like that thresher sludge I got drenched in on Tuchanka, don't I?'

'It's not the thresher goo, Shepard, you just smell different. Not bad, just different. You always have, but ever since Cerberus brought you back it's more noticeable.' The former C-Sec Officer spread his arms in the universal gesture of peace and submission. 'Don't worry, humans wouldn't notice – turians perceive scent differently than you do.'

Mollified, Shepard dropped her hands, crossing them loosely in front of her chest as she leaned back against the doors. 'Well, in that case, I'll still give you your present.'

Garrus stepped back, bumping the console behind him as he looked at the crate at his feet in apprehension. 'I already told you that I don't want a miniature giant space hamster Shepard. If you want to mate that disgusting rodent, Boo, you're...'

'It's not a pet, Garrus,' Shepard interrupted, before he could voice his objections to her efforts to find a mate for her recently acquired pet.

Dropping the playful banter, Shepard suddenly shifted tack and raised the real reason for her visit to the cramped gun battery. 'Now that things are over with Sidonis, don't you think it's time to start living again?'

Turians, as a rule, were hard to read, and Garrus Vakarian, with his C-Sec training, was even harder than most. Aurora had spent enough time with the reserved officer, though, to recognise the small, telltale signs of his discomfort at her words.

'What do you mean, Shepard? I'm fine. I'm here, aren't I?' came the terse response. His mandibles flared as he spoke, the words accompanied by the slight widening of his bird-like blue eyes and a single twitch of his gun hand.

The scars on his face and on the armour he refused to forgo might have been the most visible marks of what Garrus had been through, but despite his outward reserve, Shepard knew the stoic turian still felt the loss of his squad keenly.

'Don't give me that crap, Garrus, 'cause I can see right through that facade of yours. I haven't heard you say more than five words to anyone on this ship, outside of Tali and me. You don't eat with the rest of the crew; you spend all of your spare time in here or alone in the observation lounge. Hell, Garrus, you even sleep in here.'

Taking a quick breath, Shepard continued, despite Garrus' obvious discomfort at her words. 'I know it's hard, Garrus, especially on a Cerberus ship, but I really need your head, and your heart, here my friend.'

Taken aback by the Commander's heartfelt words, Garrus hesitated. It wasn't fair to respond to such honesty with the hollow words that came automatically to his mind, the trite assurance that he was fine. 'Shepard... Aurora... I don't know what to say. I'm not the same person that travelled with you before.'

'I know how it feels to lose your crew. What happened on Akuze, well, it nearly destroyed me. Then Jenkins in Eden Prime and Ash on Virmire. And the Normandy – Priestly, Adams... I know how you feel, Garrus.' Shepard struggled for control of her emotions. 'These things change a person - Gods, do I know how they change a person - but I need you. You, not some shadow of the man I knew before.'

'I'm trying Shepard, really I am.' Garrus' response was quiet, his normally resonating voice dampened by shame. 'But sometimes,' he continued, 'when I'm with the others, I see my squad – I hear them dying all over again...' A shuddering sigh echoed in the close confines as Garrus looked away, refusing to meet her eyes.

'Look,' Shepard ordered, holding her shaking hands out in front of her until he turned stiffly back towards her. 'Look at what just thinking about it still does to me.'

'I still think about what I could have done differently all the damn time, Garrus. Cold comfort, I know, but it's true.' Holding his gaze, she continued, 'We all know the risks that come with the job, but we're still here, holding the line, because someone has to, and who the hell else is there? Who else could do this?' Shepard spread her arms wide in a sweeping gesture that encompassed everything they had been through together. The gut-wrenching fear and the adrenaline rushes, the fleeting moments of joy and the lonely nights of crushing despair, the friends found and those they had lost – everything that defined who she was.

'You need to put the past behind you, where it belongs, and remember that we still have a job to do. The pain, like the scars, will be there forever, but they'll both fade if you let them.' Shepard's voice was steady and strong. Turian society was ruled by a strong militaristic doctrine, and children were raised from an early age to serve – and to obey. Shepard hoped that the command in her voice would resonate with both his martial upbringing and C-Sec training, and help him to accept what she was telling him.

As the silence stretched out, Shepard swallowed the next words on her tongue and tried to control the fluttering of panic in her stomach. Her pride wouldn't allow her to beg – not even for Garrus. Not even when she remembered the panic and desperation she'd felt when she nearly lost him to the mercenaries on Omega. She had said her piece, and now it was up to Garrus to decide if he was willing to try to make his own peace with the past.

Garrus' eyes turned inwards as he thought about how he had followed Shepard across the known universe for almost a year, always at her back when she needed him. About how at first he had only been there to help bring down the rouge Spectre Saren, but after seeing her put herself at risk time and time again doing what was right, he had become both her companion and her friend. By the end, he felt such a deep and abiding respect for the selfless human that he would have gladly sacrificed himself for her.

His eventual response was quiet, but his voice was steady and strong. 'You lead, Shepard, and I'll follow.' There was no hesitation and no regret in his words.

Moving around the crate, Shepard stepped to Garrus' side and placed her hand on his armoured arm. 'There's no one else I'd rather have with me, my friend,' she told him, her eyes bright with emotion.

Shepard shook her head to clear her thoughts and glanced at the container by her feet. 'I got you something.'

'So you said before.'

Kneeling at the front of the silvery crate, she entered the codes to release the crate's lid into her omni-tool. The locks clicked open, and she began to lift off the cumbersome cover.

'Let me help.' Garrus quickly stepped across from her and reached down to lift the top.

He very nearly dropped his burden in surprise when he saw the mark embossed in the lid. 'Shepard, this seal is from Palaven, from the turian homeworld. What in the universe have you got in there?'

'Patience, Garrus, is a virtue,' Shepard replied as she reached down and rummaged through the packing. Without looking away from her task, she asked a question of her own. 'Do you remember when you told me that you were only comfortable with absolutes, and that you didn't know what to do with grey? It was on the way back to the Normandy after we confronted Sidonis.'

With a clarity similar to the drell eidetic memory, Garrus recalled the shock and betrayal he had felt when Shepard stepped between him and Sidonis and told the traitor that she was there to help him. The words they had spoken afterwards, however, were less salient, and he only vaguely recollected what he had said as he struggled to contain his anger. 'Yes, I suppose so.' The blue collar of his armour lifted as he shrugged, pushing away the painful memories. 'But what does that have to do with anything now?'

'Garrus, absolutes are a luxury we don't have. Grey is the colour of life on the edges of civilization, and we have to deal with shades of it every day – you did it before with me, and you can do it again. You just need something to remind you that grey can be a beautiful colour. That's why I got you this...'

Shaking off the protective packaging, Shepard lifted her prize out of the crate and raised her eyes cautiously to the stiff figure across from her.

The next chapter will follow in the foreseeable future and there are virtual cookies for the person that guesses what's in the crate.

brownc0at kindly beta-ed this ramble, but any mistakes that still linger are all mine. Her story 'Everything that Matters' is an absolute masterpiece - read it!

And the title is from another Matt Good song - House of Smoke and Mirrors.