"You're the only reason I keep fighting, Garrus," he said, staring at the stars.

"You and me both know that's not true, Shepard," came the reply from the turian, ever calm and supportive.

"I'm not lying."

"Surely, you don't want your species to become extinct, do you? Or, for that matter, my species, or the asari, and salarians, and the other races?"

"I don't care," he said, dismissively. "I don't. Even without the Reapers, this galaxy is a hellhole. The rich and powerful exploiting the weak. Wars and conflicts all over. Interspecies discrimination. Bigotry. Famine. You, Garrus, of all people, should know how true this is. You were in C-Sec: you saw the bureaucrats at work. You were also at Omega."

The turian did not reply, unable to think of a comeback. All of it was true, after all. During his years at C-Sec, he had seen that, despite the supposed affluence and wealth of the Citadel, it was just as dangerous and corrupt as the rest of the galaxy.

And not to even mention Omega, where beggars dying in the streets were a common sight, where bodies were hung on lampposts as a message to rival gangs.

He supposed there was truth to Shepard's words. But he didn't want to think about it. He wanted to believe that the galaxy was worth saving.

After all, he needed a reason to keep on fighting. He wasn't a machine that simply and unquestioningly followed orders, like the Collectors they had defeated. He needed justification.

He was thinking when Shepard spoke: "I can see you're upset."

"I'm just trying to see how you manage to muster the will to fight, if you think like that," he replied.

The human, smiled, and moved closer. He let himself lean on the turian's shoulder.

"I just told you," he said. "I'm fighting for you, Garrus. For us. I'm fighting so that we can end this, and afterwards, we can retire to some little beach world, and live out the rest of our lives, together. Because I'll tell you, I've had enough fighting to last me a lifetime."

And Garrus put his talon-like hand to the side of Shepard's face, thinking. Indeed, retiring did sound like a good idea. He had to admit to himself, he was a little tired. There was too much excitement and instability and unpredictability in his life. He wished for perhaps a bit more peace.

And a bit more time to spend with him, thought the turian, smiling as only a turian could.

"You ever heard of a planet called Celephaïs?" asked the human.

"No."

"Oh. Well, it's a nice world, just a mass relay away from Earth. It's a resort world, you know? Been there once, during a mission long ago, when I still worked for the Alliance. Plenty of white-sand beaches, and blue crystalline waters."

"Sounds beautiful."

"Indeed."

"I wouldn't mind, you know, going there," Garrus, said uncomfortably, yet feeling a small sense of excitement and hope inside of him. "Wouldn't mind at all."

"Yeah. And we could sit together on a towel on the beach, and just relax, drinking some beers – or whatever you turians drink," he added. "And we could watch the sun go down, and we wouldn't have a care in the world. Just us two, the cool soft sea breeze, and the knowledge that we saved the galaxy."

The turian envisioned the latter, welcoming the idea.

It wasn't such a bad idea. Not at all.