Pacing furiously in the cargo bay, Shepard's rage was surpassed only by her guilt. The remains of the Normandy's sparring dummies lay in tatters at her feet. Someone, somehow, had implanted her with Reaper nanotechnology that embedded itself into her bone structure, brainstem, and cerebral cortex. It was part of her, too enmeshed to remove surgically. Was it Cerberus, Sovereign, or had she always carried this disease within her? Worst of all, knowing she'd infected Garrus made her sick. Scans detected early signs of remodeling, metallic tendrils beginning to sprout beneath his plates. Desire had made her weak: she'd been so eager to let him sate his bloodlust that she'd exposed him time and time again. Once it was apparent they weren't allergic to each other, they'd indulged in one another without restraint. Idiot. If only I'd taken precautions he'd be safe. Awash in blame, she didn't sense the turian approaching behind her.

It's not your fault. You couldn't possibly have known.

That's no excuse.

We still don't know what this means. You destroyed two Reapers: you couldn't possibly be under their control.

I don't know what to think. Garrus… what happened to your visor?

I, uh, don't seem to need it anymore. Are you sure this is a bad thing? I've never had more energy, my joints don't ache, and now my eyes see things in ways I never imagined…

Can you interface? Use it like an omni-tool, but directly?

Not yet. My brain feels… itchy. Maybe it'll happen soon.

I'm so sorry.

I'm not. We're in this together now; we'll figure things out just like we always do. The Illusive Man has a lot to answer for.

"I have information, Shepard. Don't you want to know where you came from, what you are?" She'd been replaying the Illusive Man's words over and over, that tantalizing sentence he'd uttered when trying to persuade her to turn the Collector base over to Cerberus. He resurrected her. He rebuilt her. He had to have answers. Garrus took her hand, leading her back up to the main deck of the Normandy, and asked Joker to set up a secure channel to Cerberus' private meeting room. Opening her mind fully to her mate, Shepard allowed him to observe the conversation. As usual, the Illusive Man reclined in front of a dying star, light and shadow dancing across his features and obscuring his expression.

"I'm a very busy man, Shepard. What's this about?"

"We have a problem. A very big problem. What the hell did Cerberus do to my cybernetics?"

"You were outfitted with an L5 biotic implant, and plates were used to stabilize your spinal column. That's all we altered during your reconstruction."

"You're not telling me everything."

"You're not telling me everything. Unless I know what the problem is, I won't be able to help you."

Shepard paused, weighing the consequences of honesty and deceit. Without the Illusive Man's help, she had no other leads. Failing to understand the implications of her transformation put her mate and her crew at risk. "I've been infected by Reaper technology. It's integrated into my body, and I don't know how to get rid of it. If you have information, I need to hear it now."

"How much do you remember of your childhood?"

"What?"

"Answer the question, Shepard."

"I remember growing up in the City, living on the streets."

"Before that?"

"I escaped from a fire. Before that, nothing. I don't remember anything." Shepard's eyes narrowed, her brow furrowing. So he wasn't bluffing after all.

"As I suspected. There's something you should know that may be relevant to your current situation. It's going to make you angry, and you'll have to deal with that. Remember that my goal is to protect humanity's interests at any cost, and that humans didn't always enjoy such an important position in the galaxy. Sacrifices had to be made to earn the respect we have today. Many years ago, Cerberus recovered a Prothean shuttle near the Mu Relay. It was badly damaged and covered in debris, barely recognizable as spacecraft. Inside were three Prothean corpses, two soldiers and a scientist judging by their equipment. We weren't able to decipher any of the data on board, and the only cargo was a heavily protected case containing six tiny metallic spheres. Here's the catch: carbon dating suggested these Protheans existed after their species was supposed to have vanished."

"You think they came from Ilos."

"That's our best guess. We assumed the spheres must be some form of advanced weaponry or information storage system. Either way, extremely valuable. We had the opportunity of a lifetime to discover the secrets of the Protheans and use them to benefit humanity. We tried for years to interact with them using every piece of equipment we had, but it was useless. Finally, one of our scientists got fed up with protocol and dared to pick up one of the spheres with his bare hands. It started to vibrate, then went inert. We started exposing them to all sorts of living tissue, but the only one that got a sustained reaction was a fetal lamb."

"You fucking bastard."

"You've already guessed where I'm going with this. The next phase of the trials involved human subjects. Unfortunately, there was a complication at the research facility and none of our patients survived. Only one was unaccounted for, and we thought we'd lost her for good. I wondered about you once I started to hear about your accomplishments, but it wasn't until we took possession of your remains that I was able to confirm my suspicions."

"So where did you find me? Did you steal me from my parents? What happened to the other kids? Did something happen with their implants to cause the fire, or did you get caught doing illegal experiments and have to bury the evidence?"

"That's classified information, Shepard. Even for you."

"Give me something to go on! What about the Prothean data you recovered, can I see it? I might be able to understand it and make sense of their technology."

"I'm sorry, Shepard. You're not working for me anymore: I can't trust you with that information. If you're willing to reconsider…"

Electrical impulses flared through her body, cybernetics responding to her emotions by severing the comm link as her mind blurred crimson with rage. It took a while before she regained enough awareness of her surroundings to feel the turian's arms around her, his mandibles buried in her hair, locking her in with his tight embrace as she shook with fury.

I… I can't believe it. Thorian creepers, rachni, Kahoku, that was bad enough. They planted fucking Reaper seeds in human babies, then tried to burn us alive to cover their tracks. He's a monster, destroying everything humans are supposed to stand for in the name of self-preservation. I'm going to hunt him down, find out everything he knows, and then I'm going to kill him. Slowly.

Garrus could think of no suitable response, squeezing her even more tightly as her tempest of emotions crystallized into bitter hatred.

Liara was their best bet for information on the Illusive Man. En route to Ilium, they received a distress call from a mining colony on a remote desert world. Shepard was all too happy to investigate, needing a good fight to ease the tension that had been building within her since yesterday's revelation. Garrus had tried to soothe her anger, but his attempts to hold her tenderly only made her irritated, and she was too agitated to be receptive to his more intimate suggestions for blowing off steam. His presence was a constant reminder of her failure to protect him, and she needed to be away from him, if only for a little while. Grunt and Jack had been complaining about needing some physical release of their own, and Garrus reluctantly agreed to let her go on the mission without him. It would be the first time since they'd become bondmates that he wouldn't be on her six.

Entering the mineshaft, Shepard stopped in the small anteroom where discarded datapads told the usual story of miners discovering an alien artifact, only to be transformed into techno-zombies by mysterious ancient forces. She wondered why so many colonists had made the same mistake on so many worlds. Scanning the large chamber ahead, she picked up energy signatures from hundreds of husks. Perfect. Stripping off her armour, she placed her guns on the table, keeping only her katana.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Jack was staring at her, looking simultaneously appalled and impressed.

"I have a little extra tension to get rid of, and that room full of husks is just what I need. My armour will just get in my way."

"Hell yeah!" Grunt was bashing his fists together emphatically. "Let's go!"

Unlocking the door to the mine, the trio burst through and started demolishing everything in sight. Jack and Grunt kept their guns on hand, but both were using their fists and biotics to beat down the endless waves of husks. Shepard darted like lightning among the creatures, effortlessly slicing off heads and limbs with flashes of her wicked blade. Her heartbeat became a battle drum, her whirling katana a song of death and purification as she freed scores of the damned from their torment. She used her biotics only once, finding herself swarmed by several dozen husks that piled onto her, clawing and biting everywhere they could. The pain brought her to crescendo, unleashing a massive burst of biotic energy in a climax of frenzied rage. Husk corpses slammed into walls, were impaled on mining equipment and dragon's teeth, and a few were hurled against the cave's ceiling before falling to the ground with a satisfying thud. She used her sword to finish off the last of the monsters, grinning and panting as she finally stopped for a rest. Grunt and Jack were sitting atop a massive excavator, watching the action and clapping loudly.

"That's why you're my battlemaster!"

"That was fucking awesome! I wish I had a camera. And popcorn."

"Let's go back to the ship. I'd, uh, appreciate if you didn't tell anyone about this. Damn, that felt good."

Back on the Normandy, Shepard made a beeline for her shower, hoping she could heal her wounds and discard her torn underweave before Garrus caught up with her. Sneaking onto the elevator and up to her quarters, she nearly yelped when she found the turian sitting on her bed with his arms crossed, fire burning brightly in his ice-blue gaze. He said nothing, too angry for words as his expression challenged her to explain herself.

How did you… you could sense me across all that distance? Garrus made no response. I just needed to get rid of some stress, that's all. You know I can handle myself against a few miserable husks.

The turian became a blur of quicksilver, grabbing her by the shoulders and slamming her against the wall. His face was centimeters from hers, his breath hot against her as his mandibles quivered furiously. Does our bond mean so little to you, that you'd risk your life just because you're pissed off? You won't talk to me, won't touch me, now you don't even let me protect you.

I… I'm sorry. This is killing me. I hate Cerberus for what they did to me. She looked up to meet her lover's piercing stare. I hate myself for what I did to you. I should have been more careful, I should have protected you.

Really? You get betrayed, someone you care about gets hurt, and you think the solution is to go off like a lunatic and kill everything in sight? The hypocrisy of his statement wasn't lost on the turian as his grip on her shoulders softened.

If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't be infected.

Listen to me. If I'd never met you, I'd still be working for C-Sec, every bit as soulless as those husks you just slaughtered. If you hadn't found me on Omega, I'd be just another dead vigilante who thought he could make a difference. Your blood saved my life, and if that means I have some new hardware so be it. And if you hadn't believed in me, if you hadn't loved me…" Garrus' breath was coming in ragged gasps as he sank his talons into Shepard's back, holding on to her for dear life. "I'd have fallen off the same cliff you're standing on right now, consumed by hatred and as good as dead."

Garrus' words burrowed into Shepard's soul, resonating deep within her and unraveling her from her core. The world dropped away: all that remained was her agony and guilt as she struck her bare fists uselessly against his plated thorax, burying her face above his collar to muffle her anguished screams. He pulled her in close and raked his talons down her shoulder blades, the white hot pain clearing her mind and cleansing her spirit.

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

Promise me you'll never do that again. Promise you won't go where I can't protect you. I lost you once and it nearly killed me.

I won't. I promise.

Garrus bent down and began to gently nuzzle a gash on her neck, the taste of her blood awakening his primal urges. There was no point in holding back now: the damage had already been done, his transformation triggered. Preparing to sink his teeth into her delicate flesh, he paused, deciding instead to carry her into the shower and lay her down gently. Turning on the water, he carefully removed what remained of her underweave and began to clean her wounds with gauze soaked in medi-gel.

I know this has been a lot to handle, even for you. You can't let your emotions get the better of you. See, even I can control my instincts. To emphasize his point, he ran his tongue slowly along her neck, making no effort to hide his lust as he returned to the task of dressing her injuries. The contrast of the cool medi-gel against the sweltering heat of her lover's body was breathtaking, as was the extraordinary display of tenderness from a fierce predator with carnivorous teeth and sharp talons. His fingers were rubbing soothing gel into scratches on her abdomen, tracing the edges as they healed and vanished from sight.

You don't have to control those instincts.

He said nothing, gathering her up into his arms and tucking her into bed, the sheets clinging to her wet skin. You need to rest. You've had a long day.

Wait, where are you going?

Oh? I thought you wanted to be alone for a while.

I was being stupid, not thinking straight. I let guilt and anger cloud my judgment. Please don't go.

Garrus walked over, sitting casually on the side of the bed, shifting so that his back touched her slightly. Hmmm. I'm not sure I should forgive you so easily. He ran one hand absentmindedly over her thigh, the soft give of her flesh palpable through the covers. Wriggling, she tried to press into his touch. Turning to face her, he intensified his petting, following the contours of her curves as he leaned in to bring his forehead just above hers.

Please. She arched her back as he moved out of reach, his body hovering over hers. Locking her gaze, he drew the edge of one sharp talon slowly down her abdomen, leaving behind a faint red trail.

Please, Garrus. I love you. I need you.

Now that's more like it. He leaned down, using his raspy tongue to trace the mark he'd placed on his mate. She moaned, parting her legs to invite him further, but he brought his talon up for another deliberate stroke, down her neck and across her heart. Savouring his control over her rapidly escalating desire, putting his engrained turian discipline to good use, he delicately licked the track of fresh blood and settled in for a very long night.