As Palaven loomed large, Garrus repeated traditional turian platitudes to himself: The long fight is the good fight. Victory is found in the face of death. If one last turian is left standing at the end of a war, it's worth it. More than one had remained standing, so the pull back from Palaven had to have been more than worth it, hadn't it?

A soft hand laid on top of his. He didn't turn to look. It wouldn't make this any easier. "I'm sorry," a feminine voice whispered. Looking didn't matter. It only took the tenderness of the voice of the woman he loved more than anyone to break his resolve.

Garrus let out a pent-up breath, trying to regain control. He regretted he'd chosen a seat by a window. He'd told himself it wouldn't be that bad—four years had passed since the end of the war and Palaven had been rebuilding. But the brutality of his last time in Palaven space assaulted him. He recalled taking a short break on Menae, forcing down a ration bar and unable to count the number of fires burning below on his home planet. He'd fought off the despair then for the sake of doing his duty—now he felt the sharp sting of loss as fresh as when he'd first left. Or maybe even more so. Four years ago when he'd taken off with Shepard he'd kept his thoughts honed on the mission, refusing to let emotions cloud his vision. Now...

"Results of ruthless calculus," he murmured.

His wife did not reply. She didn't need to. She knew what was going on inside him and she was letting him deal with it on his own. If his love for her had not been complete, it would have grown even more at this moment. She slid her fingers in between his talons, holding tightly to him. He squeezed her hand. As always, she was the support he needed when he needed it. But even Shepard's compassion couldn't wipe away the past.

Garrus continued to run his eye over his home planet. It still swirled with dust here and there, evidence of the Reapers' thoroughness. Green was almost non-existent. Huge swaths of forested areas had been desolated. As their transport drew closer and Palaven filled the window, his eyes slipped over to the right. The capital, Cipritine, should have been evident, a shining silver beacon of turian pride. There was nothing but a dark, gaping blank. Garrus' eye ran farther east, outside of Cipritine to its outskirts, Vakarian lands. They did not exist anymore, but memory would not be scrubbed. Images of his childhood flashed through his mind. He tightened his grip on Shepard's hand and braved turning to face her. Her eyes reflected intense sadness, for him and Palaven. She knew what it was like to lose your home. Earth had taken the worst of the war after batarian worlds and Palaven.

"You didn't do anything wrong," Shepard whispered.

Garrus coughed and pulled his hand out of her grasp. "I know," he said with more confidence than he felt. Did he know? You left to follow Shepard! It was his sister's voice that interrupted his thoughts. I left to save Palaven! he'd argued back. You left to join Shepard, Garrus, be honest! his sister had yelled back.

"Daddy."

Garrus blinked his eyes, drawn out of his reverie. A small turian hand reached out to him from Shepard's lap. He reached over and drew the tiny one into his arms. He held his two and a half year old up to the window. "This is the home of your ancestors, Tev," he told her. "This was...is your daddy's home."

"Daddy. Look!" Tev waved and pointed. Garrus stared at her vibrant blue eyes, like his mother's. His mother who had died here right before the war. His mother who he had loved more than anyone else save the woman sitting next to him.

"Pretty!" Tev exclaimed. Garrus fervently wished he had the ability to see through his child's eyes, if only for a moment.

"Garrus!" a strong, solid flanging voice called out once they had landed and disembarked. Garrus recognized it immediately, his father, Cadmus Vakarian. It had been two years since he had seen his father in person, but little had changed. His father still looked large and impressive. Garrus had tried for most his life to live up to this turian's life and ideals; he had failed. He'd assumed that meant he'd lost his father's respect, but two years ago Cadmus had visited his family and told him for the first time that he'd loved him. Garrus hadn't been able to be so direct. He'd sent an e-mail instead letting his father know he felt the same. The grudges, anger and frustration of his memories of his father melted away then. Admiration and mutual respect had remained.

Garrus shared wrist grips with his father. "Dad."

Cadmus turned to Shepard and shook her hand. "Good to see you again."

"And you, sir," Shepard replied.

"Cadmus," his father reminded her.

"Cadmus," Shepard repeated, smiling.

"And you, little one!" Cadmus cried out.

Tev smiled broadly. "Grandpa! Grandpa. Grandpa." She held out her arms and Shepard passed the youngest Vakarian over.

"Glad she knows me," Cadmus commented.

"It helps that we talk so much over vid-comm," Shepard said.

"I see you managed to shield her."

Garrus nodded. "It was easy to shape and modify shields for her." Tev, although appearing turian, carried a hint of humanity. She had been created from the work of the late Mordin Solus in a process the salarian had termed interspecies genetic reproduction. The process was not a fifty-fifty combination, but used the base DNA of one parent and spliced in the DNA of the other where it would not cause instability. Tev had been the first of her kind. Garrus' DNA had been her base and Shepard only fit in where able. So although she had the hearty turian nature and structure, her hint of humanity affected her ability to withstand radiation. It was an unexpected side effect, but one they would rarely need to deal with.

Garrus had informed his father of Tev's particular issue before they set out for Palaven. Although the galaxy at large knew that Tev had been created through interspecies genetic reproduction, Shepard and Garrus had kept specifics out of the news. Already many hated them for letting the salarians create her in the first place, claiming it was evidence of Shepard's commitment to Cerberus ideals. Never mind that the head of Cerberus was dead and the organization defunct. Never mind that Shepard had sacrificed everything for the galaxy, including coming within a hair's breadth of giving up her life. There were those who would never make peace with Shepard and Tev was their excuse. Garrus felt a surge of fury every time he thought of these things. His wife had given so much and his daughter was a testament to the resilience of the galaxy. She had been exactly what he and Shepard needed—a welcome diversion from the horrors of war and a reminder of the life the galaxy could create if it came together.

"I should have assumed you had the skill," Cadmus commented, then turned to Shepard as Tev batted a hand on his right mandible. "I assume you know he studied to be a ship's weapons engineer most of his childhood?"

Shepard raised an eyebrow and looked to her husband. "So...that explains all the obsession with calibrating."

Garrus smiled shortly. He'd hidden himself away on the Normandy most of the time. Employing his intricate knowledge had always helped him to think better.

"Well," Cadmus said, "I'll show you around Nascor as we head to Bresien's."

"Fine," Garrus assented, but his stomach churned. From above, Palaven had been distressing. Below could only be worse.

Although images of the rebuilding of Palaven had appeared through media sources, Garrus hadn't paid too much attention to them. He had his hands full managing security for the colony on Concilia, he told himself. Now he was forced to confront Palaven under construction and Nascor, although impressive, could not hold a candle to the former glory of a bustling Palaven city. Many turians had returned after the war, vowing to rebuild. They had clearly put every ounce of their strength and will into the task. Still, the buildings were stark and utilitarian, lacking turian artistry. There was no evidence of molded silver, only lesser elements of brick and stone. Cadmus explained the focus had been quick and sturdy structures. Someday artisans would be encouraged on Palaven, but right now every hand was still utilized for survival.

As they walked, they seemed to stop every few meters when a turian would drop everything and rush up to them. At first Garrus had thought to defend his wife. Aside from Tev's creation, some in the galaxy still resented Shepard for choosing to destroy the Reapers. They grumbled that Shepard did not make the Reapers the galaxy's slaves, use the tool that had fallen in their laps. But those who approached them only wanted to thank and laud Shepard and Garrus for their roles in stopping the war. Right after the war ended, Garrus had employed silent cynicism as he put up with his celebrity. The galaxy would have been better prepared if those ingratiating themselves to him and his wife had listened in the first place. He'd stuffed down his fierce anger at the continual reports of destruction. Shepard had needed him. She had broken herself almost to death for those who treated her visions and warnings as fodder for ridicule. Garrus had concentrated on her to the exclusion of all else; if he didn't, he would have had to face the widespread devastation the war had left and he might have done something he regretted, like screaming at a reporter about the ignorance of an entire galaxy.

Now, though, as turians shared wrist grips and gushed thankfulness, no anger rose in Garrus' soul, but the praise made him uncomfortable regardless. They saw him as part of their salvation, the turian who had spearheaded a task force that had given them a fighting chance—or so they thought. The task force had actually been a small concession to the constant haranguing of Arsenius Fedorian, the current Primarch at the time and a close friend of his father. It hadn't been nearly enough, but it had bought them a little time initially. Then the real war had hit, Reapers decimating his moon and his world. Garrus stared into the eyes of the latest turian, a female holding a child and explaining how she had been pregnant during the war and survived when her husband gave his life for her after the turian fleets pulled back. Pulled back because I advised Victus to do so. Garrus was grateful when his father tactfully dismissed the female and they moved on.

"Here we are," Cadmus said. The small dwelling they entered was a square structure built soon after the war to house those responsible for raising this new city up from the ashes. "Solana will be home soon. She's at the school." Solana had dedicated herself to the rebuilding of Palaven's education system. "Bresien will return tomorrow. He's surveying." Cadmus traversed the dwelling. "You'll stay here." He indicated a small room with a bed and a window shaded in darkness for the sake of Garrus' wife and child. "I could have asked permission for you to stay above with me on the Laurel." His father's current ship, housing and offices for those leading the rebuilding of Palaven.

Garrus didn't answer, simply entered the room, setting down his baggage and sitting on the bed.

"This is fine," Shepard said when Garrus didn't respond.

"I'm sorry your mother was unable to come," Cadmus said.

Garrus looked up quizzically. "You keep up with Hannah?"

"We manage a vid call here and there," Cadmus muttered with a hint of embarrassment.

Garrus worked to keep the surprise off his face. Two years ago when Cadmus and Solana had visited Concilia, Hannah had been present as well. His father and Shepard's mother hadn't gotten off to a good start, but by the end of the trip they had mended initial conflicts. Apparently they had also laid the foundation for a continued friendship.

"She would have come if she could," Shepard said.

"I know," Cadmus replied. "She's as busy as I am." Shepard's mother had been recently promoted to admiral of her ship, the Lhotse. "Still, it would have been good to see her again."

Shepard smiled subtly at Garrus. He tried to smile back, but failed. Shepard's smile faded.

"Grandpa play. Play with me."

Cadmus chucked and looked at Tev still in his arms. She had grasped one mandible and tugged on it. "You go ahead and get settled," Cadmus said. "I'll take this one," he raised an insistent Tev up in his arms, "out to the living area."

"Thank you," Shepard said.

Cadmus disappeared. There was no automatic door to shut. It was a manual and Shepard pulled it closed. Garrus sat stock still, eyes on the darkened window, lost in reverie until he felt a warm presence next to him and then a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey."

He shook his head and turned to Shepard. "Sorry, I'm...distracted. I should unpack and..." He started to stand, but Shepard's grip strengthened on his shoulder.

"Stay," she commanded. He raised his brow plates. He hadn't heard her "commander voice" directed towards him in a while. She sighed and let go of his shoulder, putting a hand to his left mandible, caressing it.

Garrus breathed out slowly. "I guess I'm too obvious."

"There's nothing wrong with how you're feeling," she spoke softly.

Garrus turned away from her, eyes back on the window. Shepard might be right, but he'd pushed Palaven out of his mind for so long and being here was like taking a punch to the gut. "It's all wrong," he breathed out. He closed his eyes momentarily. "I'm home...but not home. It's familiar...but nothing is right."

"It will never be the same," Shepard said, her tone filled with empathy. She knew because Earth would never be the same either. "You saved your planet, Garrus. These turians wouldn't be here to rebuild if you hadn't done what you did in the war."

Garrus bowed his head thoughtfully. "Perhaps," he said.

Shepard took his hand. "Not perhaps. It's a certainty." She laid her head on his shoulder. "Remember we're here for a happy occasion. There's good happening here."

Garrus raised his head. Stop pitying yourself, he told himself. He wouldn't let himself ruin his sister's wedding. He'd hurt her enough already.

Solana arrived home within an hour's time. When she strode through the door, Garrus beheld something he hadn't seen in a long time: a broad smile and a relaxed demeanor. Solana was happy. He could hardly remember the last time he'd seen her so content. It must have been some time before Arrian, her first husband, had died ten years go. She deserves it. After all she had been put through, she deserved something good out of all the bad.

"Garrus!" Solana called out. She rushed up to him and shared double wrist grips.

"Sol," he greeted, bobbing his head. He'd last seen her when she had visited Concilia along with his father. She had been cold, stony and angry. They'd gotten in a physical fight and it was then Garrus realized how much she'd been hurt and how much she blamed him for it. They'd managed to make up and things had gotten easier between them, not perfect, but better than they had been in a long time.

"Commander," Solana greeted Shepard, nodding her head to his wife.

"It's good to see you again," Shepard said genuinely.

Solana smiled slowly, perhaps remembering how out of control events on Concilia had gotten the last time the Vakarian family was all together. "I see my niece is doing well."

Tev was crawling underneath her grandfather's legs as he sat on the floor, yanking on his heel spurs. "Stronger," he commented with a grunt.

"Have you eaten?" Solana asked.

"No," Shepard replied.

Solana headed to the kitchenette off the living area. "We don't get much here. It's mainly essentials, but we make do. Dad provided some non-dextro."

Garrus tried not to think about Concilia and the riches of its imports compared to the rest of the rebuilding galaxy.

Solana didn't exaggerate. She fed them simple dishes, not what Garrus had been used to eating at home before the war. His mother had been a skilled cook. He pushed away thoughts of the meals she'd created when his stomach began to growl. As they ate, Solana took up most of the conversation, detailing her work, the obstacles facing reconstructing an education system and humorous stories about her pupils. Garrus found himself staring at his sister most of the evening. She'd changed so much. She was energized by her work, eyes alight with excitement at the challenges. Here on a planet that screamed its pain she had found herself.

After dinner, Shepard settled onto the floor with Cadmus, tossing a ball back and forth and laughing as Tev ran after it, enjoying the game of keep away.

"Garrus," Cadmus said as he rolled the ball to Tev's side, "why don't you and your sister take a walk. It's a good night for it."

Garrus eyed Solana and they shared a small smile. They may have made amends, but their father still pushed them towards each other, making sure they didn't forget family loyalty.

"Good idea, dad," Garrus said, standing and following his sister outside.

"How about the outskirts?" Solana asked.

"Fine," Garrus said.

They walked in silence for a time. Garrus was still trying to figure out how to navigate a sister who didn't glare at him or yell every time they talked. They'd spent so much time at each other's throats, it had become habitual.

"So...a soldier," Garrus finally ventured. "I thought you declared soldiers completely unfit for a marriage partner." When Solana kept staring straight ahead, Garrus thought he'd erred. "I was joking, Sol," he amended quickly.

"I know," she answered, but still didn't look at him. "It's just...I do feel a bit hypocritical."

Garrus stopped walking. He reached out to Solana's shoulder, halting her progress. When she turned to him, he took both her shoulders in his hands. "I was more than pleased when you told me about Bresien. He was a good friend to me and he'll be a good husband to you. You have nothing to feel guilty about."

Solana smiled slowly. "But I did champion my opinions, didn't I? So much changed after the war. Bresien..." She broke off, turning to walk again. Garrus paced beside her.

"What about Breisen?" Bresien had been Garrus' childhood friend, the son of his father's own longtime friend, Arsenius Fedorian, prior Primarch of Palaven until the Reapers' took his life.

Solana laughed shortly. "It's just so...strange to speak so openly with you about things like this."

Garrus laughed as well. "I suppose so." She'd opened up to him on the visit to Concilia, but communication since then had been mainly factual.

"Bresien and I were good for each other," Solana explained. "We both lost so much. When he offered to house me here, we didn't think...Well, we didn't mean anything by it, not then." Solana sighed. "I guess I always thought soldiers were too single focused, no intellect. But Bresien changed my mind."

"And your heart," Garrus added quietly. He understood Sol. He wouldn't in a million years have thought he'd fall in love with a human, but then Shepard had come along and challenged all he'd ever been told about the failings of humanity. He'd respected her at first, then she'd opened the door for more and he'd been surprised at himself for being willing to step through it.

"Yes," Solana whispered. She stopped walking. They'd passed the border of the city to a signpost on the road declaring any further passage illegal. Solana rested a hand on the sign and then looked up at the stars. "You remember night camping with mom?"

Garrus looked up. "Yes." He felt an ache in his chest. The Reapers may have decimated his planet, but they hadn't changed its sky. He could still identify all the constellations: the Titan Lophus, the Fleeing Hunter, the Broken Fish. "I would never have learned mythology if she hadn't showed us the stars and told us the stories." Garrus had never really been one for reading, but his mother, in her ingenuity, had found a way to teach him turian lore.

"Sometimes I think she's here," Solana spoke lowly.

"If mythology contains a hint of truth, she could be." Turian spirits were said to unite together to inspire their descendents.

"I wish she could have seen..." Solana's voice broke. Garrus looked over to see her shading her eyes with a hand.

Garrus' mandibles flared in and out. His mother had wanted her children at peace, his reconciliation with his father. She would have been overjoyed with the prospect of Solana's second marriage. But she had known none of this, the future stolen from her by the disease that had ravaged her and claimed her life.

"Yeah," Garrus muttered. He cleared his throat. "We should probably get back."

Solana nodded and they walked back to Bresien's side by side.

Garrus stared into the dark. He'd been trying to sleep for the past two hours, but rest eluded him. Memory had come heavily upon him, images of Palaven before the war, his childhood, the descent of the Reapers and his stint on Menae. But the image that haunted him most was his mother's pyre. He kept seeing his hand holding a torch and setting the bier alight, watching as his mother's body turned to ashes. He'd gotten the call that the Reapers had arrived in turian space the night of the funeral. The Reapers hadn't even given him the decency of mourning properly. He felt his hands clench, his jaw firm. All the anger he'd pushed away at the end of the war so he could help heal his broken wife came bubbling to the surface.

"Garrus?"

Garrus jumped slightly at Shepard's voice. "Mm?"

"You aren't sleeping."

"You're perceptive," he mumbled.

Shepard grunted. She knew he answered cockily often to cover anything he didn't want to talk about. "And you're a stiff as a poker," Shepard continued, wrapping a hand around his right arm.

Garrus forced his body to relax.

"Tell me."

"I'm fine," he said, rolling away from her.

"Right." There was silence for a time, then... "You remember how you made me talk about stuff after the war?"

Garrus' mandibles pulled tightly against his jaw. He remembered. Shepard had healed physically, but the mental healing was harder. She'd tried to forget a lot of it and he'd made her tell him all kinds of stuff, just to get it out where she could face it head on. Maybe that wasn't a nice thing to do, he thought now.

"It helped."

Garrus drew in a long breath. Besides during Shepard's healing process, they'd talked about the war maybe a handful of times over the last four years. Well, talked about it in any personal way. They often traded light stories about their time on the Normandy, laughing at the antics of certain personnel or calling to mind the heroics of friends gone ahead of them. But they avoided any deep talk. Doing so brought up too much hurt.

Shepard sighed and he heard the sheets rustle as she turned over facing away from him. "Whenever you're ready, Vakarian."

Garrus couldn't help but smile a little. She didn't call him by his surname much. Usually it meant she wanted him to do something he wouldn't, a hint that she had been his superior at one time.

Garrus' smile collapsed. After he and Solana had made up, she shared some of what happened to her and his father during the war on Palaven. He'd sensed she hadn't wanted to say much, but he'd asked and pushed to get the facts out of her. "You know my father and sister were on Palaven during the war."

Another rustle of sheets. Shepard had turned back over. Garrus stayed put, facing away. "Yes. Your sister was wounded. They managed to get on one of the last transports off world."

"They were in a legion. Dad was called up to fight and Solana maintained our home as a base for the Lifebringer Brigade. Turian Red Cross."

Garrus paused for a time and Shepard's voice prompted, "I'm listening."

"Dad figured out the Reapers were learning the military encryption codes through indoctrination and listening in on communication. They had to leave our home. They knew husks, marauders, would show up." Garrus paused again, but Shepard said nothing. "I grew up there," he said quietly. "I guess I didn't think it would be around after the war, but..." Garrus chuckled humorlessly. "Pretty naive to hold onto hope in a war like that, huh?"

Garrus felt a presence as Shepard pressed into his back. "You know my answer to that."

Garrus nodded to himself. Shepard never gave up hope, not even at the end.

"What happened?"

"They set a trap for the Reapers, lured them to Vakarian lands and homes. Then they blew everything sky high." Shepard drew in an audible breath. "Dad gave the order to fire himself." He would, Garrus knew. He was a turian of duty down to destroying his own homes.

"Oh, Garrus," Shepard whispered.

Garrus still didn't turn over. He didn't want to see her face, confront the empathy and sorrow. You couldn't change the past. There was nothing to be gained by dwelling in it.

He began to replace his mental blocks, turian platitudes coming back to him again: The past is a tool of knowledge. You wield it; it does not wield you. His eyes fell on the portable bed they'd brought along for their daughter. Tev lay sprawled out on it, her mouth open, breathing heavily. How he loved her! When he'd become a father, he'd truly understood the depth of his mother's love.

His mother...All his memories of her were tied to Palaven and the home that had been blown to smithereens. In spite of the blocks he was attempting to fence around his mind, an intense desire flared up within him to go back, to walk the home of his childhood just one more time. He didn't care that it didn't exist anymore. He wanted to stand on the one spot on Palaven that mattered most.