Ch-ch-ch-chAPTER TWOOOOOO-

Lets get ready to rumbleeeeeee-

uh.. cough... huh.. ANYWAY, hope you enjoyed the first chapter and you're coming back for more! I also hope that my awkwardness and horrible grammar doesn't scare you would be nice.

Here's the next part! Garrus's pov (kinda). Next time will also be in Garrus's pov (kinda) and I'm taking some liberties with the characters cause I'm not an expert on Turians. Please enjoy!

They had said their goodbyes so many times that he could have sworn that he was ready for whatever would come. But when she had ordered him back to the ship, "There is no Shepard without Vakarian," is what she had said. Still, he knew the moment he let go of her tiny human hands, what it was really going to feel like to lose her. Everything became clear; she meant the world, the stars, and the galaxy to him. There was no Shepard without Vakarian, but in that moment, he knew it meant the same for him. There was no Vakarian without Shepard. For years, he had been by her side and now he couldn't even remember who he was without her. He thought that it was hard the first time he lost her- back when the feelings he held for her were nothing more than a simple bubble in what he now saw was a sea. Now he truly knew how terribly and ferociously he needed and loved her.

Now he doesn't sleep. When he does, he dreams of her: Bloody. Lost. Alone. Everyone had given up hope of finding her. Maybe that was why his dreams all consisted of temptingly possible images. It had been too long, almost a full week, and the search teams had turned up nothing more than a few dead bodies. So every night his head flooded with guilt driven images of the woman that he loves—loved, pulling herself through a new desolate area. Every night she looked the same, in her shift with her feet wrapped with make shift bandages. Crusted blood stuck to her brow as she limped her way through his mind.

He wanted to believe that this was possible. Not that she was lost and alone, but that she was alive. The world was in remission but he could never follow in those footsteps without her. Not when every time his lids finally dropped, there she was. His heart sank and flew at the same time watching her. Most of the time he distracted himself. Pushed sleep from his mind. However, when it all became too much he turned into the selfish man that he desperately wished that he could be. He would let his eyelids drop and pray for sleep to come so that he could see her. He wanted her to be in pain because then at least she was alive.

This time felt the most real probably because he had kept it at bay for so long. She was laying there under a tree just on the outside of the wreckage, watching the fire around her. She had her armor on again and her helmet too, but the visor was blasted in and her face was busted up past recognition. That was when he noticed the hardest thing about this dream. She was crying. She balled and un-balled her fist as she stared into the still burning fire and let her tears drop.

"Garrus?" he heard her say in the way that he could only imagine she would sound like. He had never heard anyone, let alone her, sound that weak and quiet. Her armor was dented in and spilling blood with every gasp for air. His heart broke all over again as he heard her plead for him, "Garrus? Garrus please..." but somewhere along the way, the voice changed and his eyes opened.

"Garrus, dude, you need to see this," Joker's voice called again through the PA system as he sat up from Shepard's bed. (When he did sleep, he slept there. It was just easier for everyone if the room wasn't completely empty all of a sudden. Still he hadn't gotten a full night nor had he taken off his armor since returning from the medical bay.)

"I'll be down in a few," hummed his vocals through the groggy moment. Even his voice seemed foreign in that moment. He lurched over and dropped his head into his hands. The tears were new and they hurt just as much coming from him as they did in his dream. Turian tears were something that few people saw in a lifetime. He had seem them too many times to count in this last week.

"Garrus. You need to come to the war room now." Joker finalized. He dropped his usual sarcastic demeanor as he spoke these last words. The usual bleep, of the com being dropped, sounded. Joker, or Jeff, got his name from his constant barrage of horrible jokes and satirical nature. Even after the end and all of the terror of this week, Joker was always the one that Garrus could count on to not treat him differently. Thus, when he said those last words Garrus pulled his face away from his hands and stormed down to the lift. God, he wished there were stairs leading from this godforsaken room. In his state right now, all he could think about was she. They had found her... Or what's left of her. That thought specifically had put two separate dents in the metal walls of the Normandy on two separate occasions. Now he was only contemplating ripping the doors open to get to where he needed to be. Never before had this elevator seemed slower than the millisecond right before the door was wide enough for him to pass through. He pushed himself beyond the now empty, useless security terminal and finally found himself in the presence of every person who still lived on the Normandy.

Soooo? What'd ya think? I hope you liked it and will have patients enough to continue on with me! Please review and tell me what you think. Questions, comments, concerns, criticisms all accepted here at Ally's house of pain... wait. um. anyway. Thanks again guys!