Three

Shepard awoke suddenly, feeling the effects of a wearing down sedative and a sharp pain in her side as she attempted to sit up.

"Shepard, lay down; you're just going to make things worse on yourself," Dr. Chakwas pushed Shepard back down on the table of the Normandy's med bay. Mordin pushed himself into sight.

"No need for Shepard to stay in bed. Cybernetics healed fractured rib caused by Turian to mild bruising. Must focus attention on other patient. Better chance of success with both of us," he said, dipping away again quickly. Begrudgingly, Chakwas helped Shepard dress and booted her from the bay.

"Please tell me how he is; if there's anything I can do, just tell me!" Shepard again found herself in hysterics as Chakwas gently shoved her out into the dining hall.

"I promise you, Commander, we will let you know. Now please, calm down and get some sleep," Chakwas replied wearily, stepping back and shutting the doors behind her. It was either late at night or very early in the morning, sometime when no one was in the hall but her. There was no way she was going to sleep without knowing that Garrus was okay, so she took a seat and waited. She'd gotten good at phasing out time, spending long hours at night lying awake from nightmares. Surely her brain had gained the ability to play dead, since it had been for nearly two years. It was a strange thing to think about, especially knowing there wasn't a support group worth of people in the entire universe who she'd ever be able to relate to. She hadn't asked for this. Not say she'd wanted to die, it had never been the plan. But she had. And that was how she always thought this whole life thing worked; you get brought in, and you fight as long as you could until you were taken out. She just couldn't shake the knowledge that she shouldn't be here, sitting in this seat or breathing the filtered air of this ship; and that because of it, she wasn't the same person; and if she couldn't defeat this, what chance did she stand against Collectors, the Reapers?

The med bay doors slid open, and Mordin stepped out.

"Graft bonded with cybernetics to allow for quicker healing process. Come back in three days, will check to make sure everything coming together properly. Can tell you are a strong person, Garrus. Most people die from receiving injuries such as yours. Not sure where Shepard wants you to stay. No beds set up anywhere," Mordin stepped aside, letting Garrus pass through. Shepard could see the small, familiar glow of cybernetics in Garrus' face. He was in plain clothes, and he was walking steadily. He was alive. He nodded to Mordin, touching his face gingerly. He turned his head, locking eyes with Shepard immediately. She stood slowly, feeling almost unsure that she should be here.

"I'll ask her, Mordin. Thank you for the… work," Garrus replied. Mordin nodded, glancing at Shepard momentarily before disappearing into the med bay. Garrus and Shepard stood still, allowing the distance between each other to become heavy with silence. A wave of guilt washed over Shepard. She had done this to him, and he had not deserved it. He could have very well died, and the thought of Garrus going where she had gone made the lump forming in her throat unbearable. Tears began to bubble up and dribble down her cheeks. Garrus' eyes widened a bit. He definitely wasn't used to seeing the almighty Commander Shepard crying.

"I'll let you hug me again if it'll stop you from doing that," he said, opening his arms. She went to him without hesitation and let him wrap his arms around her gently. She began to cry openly against his chest.

"I'm fine, Shepard. Your Salarian doctor patched me up like it was nothing," Garrus said softly, trying to calm her.

"I'm sorry, Garrus," Shepard whispered, sniffling a bit. Garrus laughed.

"Nothing's wrong here, Shep. Well, except the sound of your voice," he said. She laughed a little, letting Garrus go and wiping away the lingering tears.

"I haven't done a lot of talking since Cerberus brought me back. I… actually died," She said quietly, meeting his eyes.

"I know, Shep. We all saw the Normandy. We all saw you. What did they do to you?"

Shepard could hear footsteps. Miranda was awake. Shepard didn't want her involved in this conversation.

"Come up to my cabin. We can talk there."

Allowing anyone into her cabin had felt like a violation before. This place was big and empty and frightening. But having Garrus here, sitting in the chair next to her bed; it made the place feel less like a fortress and more like her home. Shepard's voice returned as she told Garrus absolutely everything; the nightmares that had plagued her from death until now, being rebuilt by Cerberus, and how all of it made her feel like a shell of her former self. He listened openly, completely; and as she finished he nodded.

"Well, Shep, I expect everyone to let death affect them; especially their own," he mused simply, making Shepard smile a little. Garrus leaned forward on his elbow and really looked at Shepard.

"It can't be easy being alive when you figure you really shouldn't be," he added. She shook her head, and found herself caught in a yawn. Garrus smirked, rising up in his seat.

"Time for bed, Shep. Knowing you, you convinced yourself you got enough sleep when you were dead," Garrus stood, and Shepard too.

"Take my bed, Garrus. I can have your quarters readied in the battery by morning," She said, fixing the silk sheets where she'd been sitting. Garrus shook his head.

"If it's alright with you, I don't mind the couch. It's a luxury compared to what I've slept on the last few days. I couldn't evict you from your bed," he replied. Shepard rolled her eyes.

"You say that like I ever use it."

She made her way across the room, unbuttoning the blouse she'd been put in and shrugging it off. She came back into his view in her tight black slacks and a small white tank top, holding a thick blanket and pillow. She tossed them to him, and he set them down on the couch. She pulled down her hair, letting it fall across her back as she turned to the fish tank in the wall. She bent down to pick up a jar of fish food from a cabinet underneath the tank, and as much as he wanted to keep himself modest; he couldn't look away. This new Shepard wasn't being easy on Garrus. He'd never felt anything for a human before, but Shepard had always been beautiful to him. He'd always admired her strength, her ability to lead without sacrificing the voices of her crew; her track record with a sniper rifle was nothing to scoff at either. She was what he'd molded himself to be when he'd become the leader of his own team. Even in the state she was now, she was still the best leader he had ever had the honor to serve under. He watched her reaching up on her tippy toes to toss in some fish food, her top rising up slowly with her to her ribcage. He could see the bruise his hand had left when he'd pushed her back. She didn't know it, how much she had changed his life in such a short time. Garrus supposed it wasn't hard to fall for a woman like Shepard, especially when she stood before you on her toes, her bare skin soft and perfect porcelain; those two dimples just above her pert, round, little-

"Garrus?" She said, turning around and interrupting his view; part of Garrus was thankful for this.

"Yes, Commander?" he replied, choosing to look down at the couch.

"Call me Kaitlyn, Garrus. We've been together too long to continue with titles," she came back to him, getting so close that it rose a feeling in Garrus he quickly suppressed. Shepard passed by him, setting the pillow at the end of the couch and unfolding the quilt she'd brought him.

"This ship is not my Normandy. The walls are thin; I can hear the emptiness outside of this place, the sound of space. It's the only thing I heard for a long time," she turned to him, still close; Garrus could smell her. He was losing a fight, not to hold her again, console her.

"What if I can't do what the old Kaitlyn Shepard could do? What if I'm not capable? What chance do I stand against the Reapers if I can't even gain the respect of my own crew? They are going to come in, and wipe us all out because I can't get over this. What's going to happen to me, Garrus?" Tears came spilling down her face again; this only seemed to make her angry. She crossed the room, to get away from Garrus and from her feelings.

"I've never cried this much in my life. Every single night I cry. I can't take this, Garrus. I just want to feel like myself again. What am I doing here? Who am I?" She crumpled to the ground, completely defeated for the first time in her life. It hit Garrus suddenly how terrible it was that he stood before a crying dead woman. The world had put such a great weight on her shoulders, had asked so much of her and she had risen to the occasion without hesitation; it had ended without glory or the respect she had deserved from the Council or the people she'd saved, and then she had died. And instead of being left to peace, she was forced to come back; she was not as strong as she used to be, and the weight she'd left behind was crushing her now.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she apologized, but she didn't need to be. This was far from her doing. She'd died to save her crew, nobly and with purpose. And Cerberus had sullied it. Garrus went to her and grasped her back and legs, lifting her easily.

"Listen to me, Shep-Kaitlyn. You're still the same woman. You're the same Commander Shepard who survived Akuze, you're the same woman who defeated Saren and saved the Citadel from Sovereign. You are absolutely the same woman who died to save her entire crew when the Normandy was destroyed. You just glow from the cracks in your face now. Or did you always do that?" She laughed a little through her tears. It took him great effort not to wipe them from her face himself. He supposed he'd always had feelings for Shepard, but she had belonged to someone else before. Did she still? She had stopped crying, and her tear-stricken eyes were locked on his. His hand was resting on her bare back; her skin was as soft as it looked. He set her down on the bed; he couldn't bear to hold her that way any longer.

"Thank you, Garrus," she said quietly. He nodded, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I'm sure whatever I do isn't nearly as impressive as you think it is, Kait. I'm going to get some water, let you get ready for bed. I'll be right back."

He had to get out of there before he made a fool of himself. He put his fist against the elevator door. He couldn't take advantage of her in her current state. For that matter, how could he even think Shepard would want that from him, or if he could even give her what she wanted? When he'd known her last, she was into humans. One human, specifically. The doors opened, and he found himself face to face with the Cerberus man from earlier, Jacob.

"I was wondering why this thing was taking so long," Jacob said. He was wearing only a pair of pajama pants and holding bottled water.

"It looks like you and I are after the same goal," Garrus motioned to his water. The last thing he wanted was another altercation with this guy. It took Jacob a moment to respond.

"Yeah, I'm starting to put that together," Jacob replied, stepping aside so Garrus could exit the elevator. Garrus could feel Jacob's eyes on him as he crossed the room and opened the refrigerator in the kitchen.

"You came from the Commander's cabin?" Jacob said from the elevator. What business was it of his where Garrus was coming from? Garrus took the liberty not to answer immediately, and took a long drink of water first. He re-capped the bottle and grabbed another for Shepard. Jacob was still standing at the elevator.

"I'm sorry?" Garrus said, acting as though he hadn't heard. Jacob folded his arms.

"You came from the Commander's cabin," he repeated, now a statement. Garrus nodded, choosing his words carefully before he said them.

"She's allowed me to sleep in her cabin until my quarters in the battery are set," Garrus replied calmly. Jacob took a heavy breath, as though it bothered him to hear those words.

"Look, Turian, I apologize for my outburst on Omega. It was out of place for me to speak to you or my Commander that way. You have to understand how little leading she's done since we brought her back. We need her to be that strong, powerful woman who defeated Saren and Sovereign. I spend so much time trying to break down that wall she had up, keeping all of us away from her. And the way that she just ran to you, it…" he trailed off, squeezing the bottle of water in his hand. Was Jacob jealous of Garrus? Garrus couldn't help but smirk at his realization.

"Listen, Mr. Taylor, my name is Chief Gunnery Officer Garrus Vakarian; and though I am a Turian and I am damn proud of the fact, you may only address me by name or title. Your apologies to me are unnecessary. But your Commander deserves an apology for the way that you treated her. Now if you'll excuse me," he passed by Jacob again and pressed the top floor key, "Kaitlyn is waiting for her water. Goodnight, Mr. Taylor."

The doors closed and Garrus felt the elevator moving upward. He smiled to himself, proud that he had handled the situation appropriately. When he arrived back at the cabin, the lights were dimmed. He could see the outline of Shepard lying on her side in her bed, but couldn't tell if she was asleep or not. He moved as quietly as he could, setting down the waters on the table next to the couch.

"Garrus," she whispered. He looked up.

"Yes?"

"Don't sleep on the couch," she said. He wasn't sure what she meant.

"The fish seems content to have the duplex to himself," he replied, picking up his blanket. She moved a little, but it was hard to read her when she wasn't looking at him.

"No, Garrus, I… I just-there's room for you here."