The Good Shepard
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Shepard has a secret—she wants, more than anything, to be a mother. Shepard/Garrus.
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Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to Bioware.
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A/N: I wanted to write a Shepard who was different from the other Shepards that I have read and written about. Her hopes, dreams, and motivations are not what one might expect for a hardened soldier. But who says a badass marine can't have a softer side?
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Commander Shepard's childhood was, as she reflected on it, idyllic, despite the way it had abruptly ended. She came from a large family. Four younger brothers and sister whom she loved to distraction, all gone in a day.
The news had cast her as a symbol of sorts, the only survivor of the Batarians' raid. Within weeks she was forgotten again, shunted into the foster care. She had noticed none of it. The only thing that mattered was that they were gone.
When she finally came out of her fog, she understood her circumstances. Earth's foster care system left a lot to be desired. The Alliance was her way out. It wasn't the career she had hoped for, but it got her away.
As it turned out, she was good at it. Very good. So when she considered leaving to pursue some other career, they convinced her to stay. At the Skyllian Blitz she became a hero, and then she finally thought there might be something to be said for being a soldier. What happened to her family would never happen to another, not if she could help it.
But her own dreams were put on hold. She would never abandon a family to go on a combat tour. One day, before she was too old, she would transfer into a desk job. Then she would have her family.
One day.
Even after she learned of the reapers, she still had a hope that when it was all over, she would retire and get her wish.
That all changed when she fell in love.
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Commander Shepard disembarked the Normandy with a spring in her step. She always did when they docked on the Citadel. Once she finished her work and meetings, she had some time on her own.
While her teammates often volunteered at the refugee camps during their shore leave hours, Shepard had a different destination in mind.
The C-Sec officer at the door of the orphanage smiled and nodded in greeting, not stopping to question her. She was a familiar face these days.
Shepard always started her visits by greeting the older children, giving them hugs and smiles and stories of her adventures. She never rushed them, but as soon as she could get free, she moved on to the ones too young to know her name.
With the babies, she was no different than any other volunteer. She bathed, fed, clothed, and soothed for hours, not noticing the time pass by. She smiled as she watched toddlers of all species playing together on the rug. Race didn't matter here.
If she gravitated towards the turian infants, no one noticed but herself. They reminded her of Garrus, of what they'd both given up to be together. She loved him more than anything, but sometimes she felt her heart was breaking anyways.
She had so wanted to be a mother.
"Maybe someday," she thought, "He will want to adopt with me." That was where she hinged her hopes now.
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For some time, Garrus had wondered where Shepard spent her shore leave. He knew she ran errands around the Citadel, of course, but she often disappeared for hours, not seen or heard from by anyone.
He'd tried, as subtly as he could, to get her to talk about it. But no conversation about shore leave or down time or hobbies had revealed even the slightest clue. Shepard had always played her cards close to her chest, but she hadn't been this tight lipped with him in quite some time. She guarded this secret more carefully than any other.
So he followed her.
He was thwarted when he saw her enter the building past the C-Sec guard, but a quick look around gave he the information he sought. A small sign marked the building as an orphanage. There were windows further down, he noticed. He might be able to see inside, to catch a glimpse of what Shepard did there.
It was a pretty good idea, he thought, to have Commander Shepard visiting these kids. It would give them quite a boost. But it wouldn't account for the number of hours she spent there.
Garrus lingered near the windows for a few minutes, but saw no Shepard. The windows looked in on the nursery, where only the youngest of orphans lived. Disappointed, he wandered the district for a little while, never too far from the orphanage door. When she still hadn't come out an hour later, he walked by the windows again—and stopped in his tracks at what he saw.
There she was, sitting in a rocking chair with the tiniest turian infant in her arms. She was talking to him, or singing maybe, soothing the baby as he wailed. Garrus stood, spellbound, as she calmed him, kissing the infant's tiny crest. His breath caught in his throat as he saw her gaze down at him, her eyes filled with emotion.
When Garrus regained control of himself, he turned and walked away. He had a great deal to think about.
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When shore leave was over and they were back on the ship for the evening, Garrus followed Shepard up to her quarters. He still called them hers, despite her open door policy. He'd spent most nights there for several weeks now. After making love, they laid together quietly in bed. Garrus gathered his nerve to speak up.
"You know, I've always wondered where you spend your shore leave." Despite his anxiety, Garrus tried his best to sound casual. The subject matter alone would raise her awareness.
"And I question whether you really take any," she replied, with a tense smile. Her attempt at misdirection wouldn't work this time.
"I'm sorry to admit it, but I followed you today."
Her smile dropped. "I like visiting the orphanage. Those kids remind me what I'm fighting for."
Garrus was quiet for a moment. "It's more than that," he said slowly. "I saw you through the window. You love them."
"Yes." She blinked, looking away.
Garrus reached out and covered her hand where it lay on the bed. "Have you always loved children?"
"Yes," she said softly, looking at their hands. "You know I grew up with lots of siblings. I was the oldest. My parents worked all day in the fields." She swallowed. "They were… mine to care for."
"There's going to be a lot of war orphans when this is over. Orphans that will need homes."
Shepard glanced up and met his eyes. "You mean…"
"Some of them could be ours," he said quickly. He stroked her hand. "If you want them to be."
Her eyes welled up, and she turned her hand over to grip his. "Thank you, Garrus."
When Garrus considered their conversation in the days that followed, there was something else he detected in her manner. Something other than gratitude. Something wistful, that made him call up Mordin for aid. It was a distant hope, but if he could, he would give her more than orphans.
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Nothing was as it should be.
The woman he would have given his life to save had gone on alone. She was missing in action, presumed dead. Not that it had stopped anyone from searching for her. For her body.
She had saved the galaxy. She was a hero. But his silent fear had been realized. She had given her life to do so.
In the privacy of Shepard's quarters, he railed against Admiral Hackett, against the reapers, against Cerberus, against anyone who he felt had contributed to her death. He included himself on that list. He should have stayed with her. Instead, he had allowed her to send him away. Keep him safe.
Of all the people who deserved to see the coming peace, she deserved it the most. It wasn't fair.
He thought of the home he'd quietly bought for them, while she had toiled at war. He thought of Mordin, who had died before he could come through with a miracle. He thought of that turian baby that Shepard had cradled in her arms.
Mostly he thought of her, of the day that she had agreed to bond with him forever. They would never get that chance now.
Or so he thought, until Liara burst into Shepard's old quarters with tears running down her face. "She's alive," the asari choked out. And Garrus bolted out of the room running.
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She was buried under the rubble, they'd told him. Running on little more than her cybernetics. Garrus never thought that he would thank the spirits for Cerberus, but he was doing so now.
He held her hand, never leaving her bedside except for the most basic of needs. He would place Liara or Tali's hand in Shepard's before running off to have the fastest shower or meal possible. He got most of his sleep in the chair by her bed.
He talked to her, telling her of the home he'd bought for them, of the future he hoped they'd have. After many dark days and sleepless nights, she opened her eyes. The sweetest sound he'd ever heard was Shepard's hoarse, unused voice whispering his name.
Eventually she recovered, and they were able to retire to the tropical home that Garrus had promised her. But before they did, they tracked down the turian baby that Shepard had loved.
He was the first of several children they adopted. They built an addition onto their home to make room for the children that Garrus and Shepard couldn't help but love. And yet, sometimes Garrus still noticed that wistful look in Shepard's eye, especially after their old friends started announcing the births of their own children.
Garrus had stopped hoping for their miracle when Mordin had died. But he should have known not to count Mordin out, even in death.
It was five years after the war when Garrus got a call from inside STG. He had the surprise of his life. Fearing the possibility of his death, Mordin had brought in a few trusted others on his project, and they had continued it after he was gone. After all these years, their miracle had come through after all.
When Garrus told his wife, she cried and kissed him, and promised they would not let this miracle pass without giving it a try. So she underwent the procedure, and became the first human woman to carry a turian child. She cared nothing for the notoriety—only for the baby that had a piece of her and a piece of Garrus. Something she had never thought could happen.
When she finally came home to the children she had chosen and the one she had birthed, she knew she had achieved her dream after all.
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