The days and weeks after the news hit him were a blur to Garrus. He almost felt bad for how he left Joker, almost. Spirits, he could still remember the recording Joker had played for him like he was hearing it live, the soft song, the screaming. Joker had broken down into tears and Garrus could only put a hand on the broken man's shoulder. He was in shock, he knew it, and he had acknowledged it immediately. He also acknowledged that he needed to leave before the shock wore off and anger replaced it.
He had told Joker that she would not have blamed him, so he shouldn't blame himself. Garrus had meant it too, he knew Shepard would've done the same thing for anyone and that it wasn't Joker's fault for her death – it was whoever attacked them. Garrus could feel his anger grow the longer he thought about it. Without as much as another word, Garrus quickly grabbed a few of his belongings, shoving them into a pack, and left. He no longer cared about being a Spectre; he no longer cared about serving the counsel that had sent Shepard off to die in the middle of nowhere.
He had tried to work for c-sec again, he really did. He had avoided going to Shepard's funeral, even though Tali was insisting constantly that he should go and she made no effort to hide the fact that she was mad that he hadn't gone. He couldn't face it, he couldn't face that the woman he had admired, and cared for, had died while he sat on his ass and did exercise drills. He even tried carrying on the torch, so to speak, of trying to get people to prepare for the Reapers. He clamored and shouted to anyone who would listen. But few did.
Garrus couldn't take it anymore, he was done, he quit. He would find his own way to make the universe a better place; he would do it how he wanted to. No red tape, no rules and regulations. Garrus didn't have to think long or hard about where he would go, he knew almost as soon as he had decided what he was going to do. He was going to go to Omega.
Omega, the piss hole of the universe – Every deviant thing you could want at your finger-tips. Only one person to worry about, really, and that was Aria. Aria didn't care about anything but her own interests, stay out of those and people stayed alive. Garrus wasn't quite ready to take on the Queen of Omega just yet, but he would take on every other gang in the area. Garrus had decided it make it his personal goal to piss every gang leader on Omega off, to be the proverbial thorn in their side. It was something he was going to pride himself on some day. It would be something that would have made Shepard proud.
Eventually, almost two years later, Garrus had found a team he could trust, people who had the same ideals he did. Every one of them had lost someone to Omega, every one of them except Garrus. They looked to him as their leader, he lead them like Shepard had taught him to lead. He was always honest with his squad, always upfront about his plans, he asked for feedback and took it in stride, and he would talk to them all regularly. But, he couldn't bring himself to really care. One time Sidonis, a newcomer to the group, had asked Garrus why he would always sit and stare at his omnitool, at a message no one else ever saw and have a look of "sadness" as Sidonis had so eloquently called it. Much to Sidonis' chagrin, Garrus merely told him it was none of his business and closed the message. It had never really endeared Garrus to Sidonis.
In hindsight, Garrus wondered if that was why Sidonis had betrayed him and his squad. If that's why Garrus was now perched on a ledge, sniping ever gang member on Omega who was coming to try and kill him. If that was why there were body bags full of his former squad below him. If that was why he had failed to live up to the expectations placed upon him. Either way, it no longer mattered now, Garrus had failed, and that much was for certain. Now, how only goal was to take as many gang members out with him as he possibly could.
Something nostalgic hit him as he snipped an Asari Vanguard between her eyes, he smiled at the memory of Feros where he and Shepard were forced to take down what turned out to be multiple clones of a follower of the Asari Matriarch Benezia. He and Shepard had shot the woman so many times they were starting to wonder if they were going to run out of heat sinks, and eventually they did. Shepard had started using her biotics against the woman, but the Asari had been enhanced by the plant-creature they were trying to destroy. In a move that still made Garrus shudder to this day, Shepard had leapt at the woman with a growl that would make a Turian woman sound weak. Garrus still remembered screaming her name and his heart stopping as she started to use her biotics to pummel the woman to death. Garrus still remembered how his breath caught as she stood up and wiped the blood from her cheek and grinned and him and Kaiden.
Kaiden had grimaced at the sight, Garrus had growled in appreciation. Unconsciously, Garrus growled at the memory. He supposed it was around that time that he started to notice Shepard as a women rather than a human. Garrus had never had any interests in humans, they were squishy, had weird fringe, and too many appendages on their hands and feet. But Shepard, she was different. She was a warrior. She was… He stopped on this train of thought; there was no point to it.
Scoped and dropped. It was all he cared about now.
Eventually the gangs stopped their endless waves of assault, Garrus knew that they were planning something – what, he could only guess, and his guesses were never friendly. Resetting his early alert alarms so that he could doze to regain some stamina, Garrus sat himself against his snipers nest, sitting up with his rifle still in his hand. He would be ready the moment the alarm went off, now if only he could close his eyes for a bit.
Garrus woke in his bunk on the Normandy. Shepard and her squad had just gotten back from a mission on Noveria; she had taken the Asari doctor and the Krogan. He didn't like being left behind, but even he had to admit that the Wrex would be a better fit for the close quarter combat that they were likely going to face, and Liara deserved this chance to see her mother. Shepard was dragging herself to the medical bay when he emerged from the elevator heading for the mess hall. He eyed her critically for a moment; she caught his gaze and grinned up at him in her impish manner. Her dark hair was a mess and her sapphire eyes were gleaming with something he could only call "feline", he had heard Kaiden call that look something similar at one point and it stuck with him.
She had been shot through the hip, though it seemed any major organs had been missed considering the lack of blood – that or it was a quick application of medigel, he didn't really want to linger on which was more likely.
"Shepard, I hate to say I told you so, but… Well, you know."
He had always been hounding her that he was probably the only one who could keep up with her hap-hazard fighting style and he definitely seemed to be the only one who could predict her movements and which targets she was going to focus on. She had litte regard for her own well-being in a fight and it put him on edge most of the time. She had quickly become his best friend and he really didn't want to have to make another one.
"Aww, Garrus, you almost sound like you care! Don't worry, I won't tell anyone… Just help me to the medical bay, Chakwas will kill me if I don't get in there ASAP for her to mother hen all over me." Shepard had said, all the while smiling at him. Garrus merely shook his head and quickly swooped her up. She let out a startled yelp, but quickly relaxed into his grip. "You know Garrus, I think this is the first time you touched me outside of a firefight! I feel moved… No, I feel special!" She was taunting him, he knew it and despite himself, he smiled. "Well I could always drop you; see how special you feel then." As he spoke, he pretended to do just that and he roared with laughter as she let out a high pitched scream and latched herself on to his neck. She had punched him in the shoulder for his joke, but by the time they had reached the medical bay, she was laughing too.
Garrus woke from his dream slowly, moving to check his self-made prison. The gangs were still holding back, he didn't question his luck too much. Settling back down, he let himself drift off once more into memories.
Shepard had helped Garrus find the doctor he had lost while working for c-sec, she hadn't let him shoot him outright, but the Salarian died anyhow. Garrus had been mad at her about not allowing him to handle it his way, but he hadn't had a chance to talk to her about it yet; they were off to get Wrex's family armor. She had promised him some time to talk when they got back. He hoped she would let them spar, that way he could get out some tension, and get some blows in, without being cited for insubordination.
Garrus got his wish, Shepard was there in her work out gear, ready to trade blows with him. That was another thing he had always admired about his commander, even though his species towered over hers, she was never afraid to get onto the mats with him and spar. She even won a good portion of the time. Today though, today he had enough pent up anger to land some good punches.
As they started moving around the mat, trading jabs and hooks, she forced him to hash out his feelings.
"Come on Garrus, get it out, why the hell have you been so moody today." She asked as she socked him once in the side of the face.
He growled and took a jab at her midsection, hoping to hit a sensitive area. "Why didn't you let me shoot the guy, we ended up killing him anyways!" He connected and heard her let out a satisfying grunt.
She growled herself before launching herself at him, she managed to hook her legs around his and used her feet to push back on his knees, sending him to the ground momentarily. "You can't control how people will react, Garrus, but you can control how you will respond. In the end, that's all that really matters."
It made sense to him, and that pissed him off even more. She had essentially boiled down his intense need to shoot the doctor to his lack of control. That or he was being unreasonable, he really couldn't tell at the moment. Without much thought, he quickly grabbed her wrists and threw his body weight into flipping their position, leaving him on top of her. He glared down at her as she caught her breath, he had never been this aggressive during one of their matches, he could tell it caught her off guard.
She gave him a look, it wasn't angry. Garrus couldn't decipher the look completely before it disappeared from her face. That impish smiled returned as she stretched her neck, placing her face too close to his. Before he could react, she planted a kiss on the front of his lip plates. Instinctively he jerked back, effectively releasing herself from his grasp. If he could blush, he would be. He wondered what would have possessed her to do such a thing, with him, with a Turian. However, before he could settle his thoughts, she quickly tackled him again and pinned him to the ground. Before he could voice a question, she grinned down at him. "I win. Lesson over for the day." She moved herself off of him and sauntered her way out of the cargo hold. He just laid there and stared. How, how did this go from him seeding out his aggression with her to him lying on his back feeling completely, and utterly, confused.
Garrus woke again, this time it was not so subtle and he mentally berated himself for letting his guard down. His sirens were going off and a grenade had just gone off in the room behind him. Time to clean up another of his own damn messes. As he cleared the downstairs room of his assailants and moved to continue to snipe at the next wave from his perch, he silently swore to himself that he would not fall asleep again. He wasn't ready to join Shepard just yet, just a few more gang members to kill off first.
In a space station somewhere deep in the terminus systems, Shepard slowly began to open her eyes. She was aware of pain, searing deep pain. Her heart rate abruptly increased, her breaths coming in strained gulps as she willed herself to try and move. Before she could do much, however, two figures loomed over her. A woman, Australian, Shepard quickly deduced from the woman's accent, and a man of no discernable origin. They were talking, talking about her. Something about not ready, something about losing? She couldn't make sense of the conversation, but she still struggled to move.
And then, just as suddenly as she woke, she drifted back into darkness. Her breath coming easier, sleep taking her over again.