Garrus quickly climbed out of the chair he was sitting in, watching another doctor exit the surgery ward, but, as usual, none would meet his gaze, or answer his questions. He clenched his fist, the one not covered in bandages, feeling frustrated and worried both, but there was nothing to be done. Instead, he sidled past James and Kaidan in the hall and went to check on Liara. She was standing off in one of the waiting room corners, fingers flying over some electronic interface, face practically buried in the miniscule writing scrawled across the screen, while Glyph hovered nearby and chirped reminders to her.
"You look like death." he told her bluntly, taking in the deep lines of concentration across her face, and the distinct half-moons under her eyes.
She didn't respond. Didn't have a smart quip to throw back at him. None of them really felt in the mood for humor or banter. Not even Joker, who was normally the first to join in on the wise-cracking.
"The doctors are doing everything they can." Garrus reassured her, wanting to believe the words himself. "We've been here for a long time. You haven't moved from that spot for hours. You need a break."
"I'll take a break when you do." Liara snapped, rubbing her temples and taking a moment to compose herself again before adding in a substantially calmer tone, "Besides, if anyone needs to take a break, it's really you and Kaidan."
Both he and the major had been rather seriously injured in the push to the transporter beam, but time and prompt medical attention had put both men on their feet and back to worrying about their Commander. They had joined the rest of the crew and Alliance rescue teams in searching for Shepard's body—No, not body. She was too stubborn for that.
After all they'd been through, she couldn't have just.. have just...
Once they had been rescued from the Normandy crash, and the worst of their injuries had been tended to, they had joined the crews to find Shepard and Anderson, if possible, and to declare them as casualties of the war if they could not. But they had found her. Had found both of them, though only one of them was still breathing when they finally located them and dug them out of the decimated Presidium ring and ruins of the Crucible.
It had been two days since the Crucible had fired, two days since Shepard had lost contact, before the team had found them.
Tired, the dull ache of panic so long felt that it had smoldered into an anxious restlessness still running through his overtaxed nerves, he mounted another crumbling wall.
Darkness and silence lay over everything, with only the faint sparking of the more intact systems and small, haphazard electrical fires providing any illumination beyond the sweep of his flashlight. It danced across the still, crumpled metal, the shattered stone, the melted pools of plastics with the same nervous intensity as it had across the past half kilometer of broken rooms and twisted space station.
Nothing. He bent to shine a light under a pile of debris, greeted with the same sight of broken, charred materials. His bones ached as he turned away, sharp pain from the injuries to his chest and abdomen forcing him to move even slower than the other search teams. But he couldn't rest. Wouldn't let anyone stop him until he had found her.
The beam from his light skittered across a slight dip in the rubble, darted over cracked concrete, bent metal, warped plating, and a set of N7 dog tags.
Shepard.
The name sent a jolt of relief and a thousand different emotions coursing through his tired system, and it took him a moment to register that he had yelled her name aloud as well. "Hold on. Just hold on." he told her, unmoving as she was.
She was alive. She had to be.
He struggled to lift the ruined remnants of what had once been a room, struggled to reach her even as he called for the others. Tali and Liara were there in an instant, taking up position on either side of him as, together, they worked desperately to free the Commander from the rubble.
Later, heavy steps bearing him slowly and sluggishly from the ruined section of the Citadel, Garrus carried Shepard as far as Admiral Hackett's escort, who then took her from him, medical teams already streaming towards them. He didn't want to watch her leave, watch her broken and bleeding form be borne away. He wasn't there the last time something like this happened, the last time she had… No. She wasn't going to die. Not this time. If the Crucible exploding in front of her, the Citadel crumbling beneath her hadn't killed her, nothing else was about to. Besides, he had a message to deliver for her.
"Shepard wanted to tell you, she was barely conscious, I'm not even sure if she knew who we were, but she wanted you to save Admiral Anderson's body."
Hackett's brows furrowed. "Save his body how? Delay his funeral until she's out of the hospital? The public will want to mourn the heroes that helped put an end to this war, but, for Shepard, I'll see what I can do."
He wearily shook his head. "No, I don't think that's it. She was very specific. She told me to put him in cryo as soon as you dig him out, and to keep tabs on Miranda Lawson. I think she wanted to say more, but…"
"I'm not sure I have that kind of pull anymore, Vakarian." Hackett said warningly, his dark eyes half hidden beneath deeply drawn eyebrows.
"You coordinated the entire fleet. That has to count for something. Besides, we both know that the galaxy owes Shepard, and Anderson too. We can't just ignore this."
Hackett nodded slowly, sighing after a moment. "Fine. I'm not sure what good it will do, but Shepard has her reasons, I'm sure. I'll make sure her request is honored. We'll get it done, Vakarian."
He pulled Liara aside once they were aboard the Normandy, headed to the hospital Shepard was being treated in. He told her of Shepard's request, and she spent the rest of the trip in front of an extranet access terminal. Just as they started towards the airlock, Liara tugged on his arm and quietly explained that Miranda was on board for whatever Shepard needed, and that she was conducting some research in light of the news. But just what was Shepard planning?
Even in the present, Garrus didn't really know. He and Kaidan had spent weeks fully recovering from their own wounds. Kaidan was still being monitored for signs of damage to his implant, and was slated for another diagnostic in the next hour or so.
Garrus took a deep breath, feeling the slight ache in his chest as he did so. He had managed to escape the confines of the recovery room, with a little help from Tali and a small adjustment to the medical consoles, though he was still far from back to his old self.
Still, it was not as if he was going anywhere. Not while they were still waiting for news about Shepard. The staff didn't even seem to know if she was going to survive. He pushed the thought aside angrily. He wasn't about to give up on her yet. Especially when nothing was certain.
"Turians aren't particularly good at relaxing." he finally said, rueful.
The Normandy crew, current and past, had taken informal shifts to wait on Shepard, switching out so they could eat a meal, shower, and sleep for a while. Some of them were better at taking care of themselves than others though. He really didn't feel like he needed time away, but he had to be looking nearly as ragged as Liara at this point.
She glanced up from her screen to regard him, face softening somewhat with a not-smile. It faded as her gaze flickered from Garrus to someone behind him. He turned, and his heart hit his chest like a shotgun shell at the sight of the nurse that stood there. He seemed as tired as they were, his short hair mussed and sticking up at odd angles, fingers fidgeting even as he clasped them together in what was probably meant to be a calming, professional fashion.
"The Commander is out of surgery." he explained wearily. He paused briefly, as if to gather his thoughts, and Garrus felt his stomach tying itself into such a tiny knot that it might disappear entirely like a cheap magician's party trick. Catching the shared expressions of worry and apprehension on the faces of the Normandy's crew, the nurse continued hastily, "She's stable, but there were some complications."
"What kind of complications?" Liara asked, her voice cracking a little from the strain.
"Well, the Commander suffered a great deal of injuries. We repaired as much damage as we could, but the trauma was extensive. She had breaks to most of the bones in her body, and there was a great degree of hairline fracturing all across her skeleton. Some of the damage appears to be halfway healed, probably older wounds that didn't have a chance to mend yet, but most of them are very recent. I'm afraid these injuries also extended to her implants. I've come to understand that Cerberus installed a large number of technological binders, stimulators, and enhancers to revive the Commander, and from what I've seen, and from the notes in her files, these were never removed due to either reliance on them or the difficulty of extraction. Approximately 45% of those implants were damaged in some way, or are showing signs of rejection. There were many surface abrasions and injuries as well, which contributed to her extensive blood loss."
"Does she need a donor? I'm a match." Kaidan interjected abruptly, rolling up his sleeve as if the nurse already had a needle on him.
The man blinked uncomprehendingly for a second, surprised, then raised a hand to calm the major. "With all due respect, sir, you can't donate while you're under treatment yourself. Besides, finding blood isn't the problem. We were able to find several volunteers willing to donate."
James was quiet—arms folding and brow furrowing as he tried, and failed, to keep a neutral expression—as he asked, "You said there were complications, doc, and this is all pretty bad, but it seems fairly straightforward. What's really up with the Commander?"
"The damage to Shepard's legs was considerable, and, it is quite possible, not certain of course, but... likely, that there will be some form of long-term crippling due to the degree of her injuries." The nurse clasped his hands together again, visibly uncomfortable now, "And… I—We're still running tests to confirm it, but the Commander appears to have suffered widespread brain damage. Given the scope of the damage, and its unusual intensity on the memory centers of her brain, we're not sure how much she'll be able to remember. Or… or who." He glanced around almost guiltily at the four of them.
"You're saying she might not remember anything?" Kaidan asked, dazed.
"I'm saying… we don't know. Brain damage is a difficult area. She might only have forgotten her aunt's birthday, or she might not recognize any one of you. As I said, we're still running tests. I'll notify you once we have a better understanding of what we're dealing with."
As the man turned to leave, Garrus stopped him with a question: "Can we see her?"
"She's unconscious. We've put her in a medically-induced coma to let her body try to mend. Hopefully, she can wake up on her own when she's ready. You won't be able to interact with her." he said carefully.
"We understand. Please," Garrus requested, his voice warbling slightly, the others around him looking just as… concerned, as committed, with that same desperate hope, that need to believe that Shepard would be all right, displayed clearly on each of their faces, "She shouldn't be alone."
The nurse hesitated for a moment, uncertain, but when the four of them continued to regard him with the same steady concern, he relented with a small nod. "Of course. I'll see to it that you're given access to the room. Please avoid overly disturbing her, and let the doctors work. Check back in an hour, and, please, don't stay too long. She needs to rest." With that, he left, making a note on his omni-tool and leaving the four members of the crew in silence.
