Fear Itself

4. Forever

"Damnit, Tali, let's get that door closed!"

Shepard's voice is harsh, tones of desperation interwoven with not-so-subtle hints of fear. I see the lines of worry etched into her soft skin, and want nothing more than to go to her, to wrap my arms around her and tell her that she doesn't have to go through this alone. But I know it's a foolish sentiment, and she wouldn't appreciate it. Not now. Not in front of the troops.

"Shepard, I'm under fi—aaargh!"

Tali's cry is cut off, her comm line going dead as the sound of weapons fire can be heard reverberating down the alien corridors. I close my eyes. Tali had been a friend. One of the few I counted amongst the Normandy crew. She was too young to die here, like this. She deserved more. We all did.

She isn't the first casualty on this damned suicide mission. Jacob bought it not longer after we'd infiltrated the Collector's base. Samara died watching our backs as Collectors swarmed our position. The aliens pick us off one by one, seemingly at their leisure. I'm not the only one who's noticed it. Miranda's face is grim; I think Jacob's death has affected her more than she's letting on. Even Jack and Zaeed look concerned by how much trouble we're in. The only one who seems to be having anything resembling fun is Grunt, but he's young and mostly stupid.

"Shepard," Zaeed says, stepping forward. "We can't stay here. We gotta—"

His head explodes, spraying blood and brains all over us, and we all jump in shock. Weapon at the ready, I turn on the spot and see another group of Collectors converging on our position. Heart pounding in my chest, I lower myself into a crouch. From the corner of my eye I see Jack try to launch herself behind cover; her body is ripped apart by bullets. It lands on the ground, a tattered, bloody, barely-identifiable mess.

"Trouble, Shepard," Mordin says quickly. I don't have time to glance back at him; a Collector assassin targets me from afar. I peer down my scope and pull the trigger of my rifle. My shot lands first, and the alien drops. Perfect head-shot.

"Shit!"

I recognise the word as one of Shepard's strongest curses. Judging by the gunfire I hear from behind, and the eerie groaning sound, I surmise the Collectors have reached the door that Tali hadn't quite managed to close.

"Shepard, you keep going," Grunt says. His eyes are animated, his armour spattered in blood. I can practically smell the battle-frenzy on him. "I'll keep the varren-lovers behind you occupied."

She doesn't hesitate. Merely nods and claps Grunt on the shoulder. Maybe she knows that she can't stop him. Maybe she's decided that the greater good demands sacrifices. Maybe she's just plain desperate. Either way, I admire the way she rounds up what's left of her ground team. As Grunt lets out an angry roar and charges the half-dozen Collectors behind us, we bolt forward, weapons blazing.

I'm at the back of the group. By the time I see what's happened at the front, it's too late. I round a corner and see one of the Collectors, controlled directly by Harbinger, holding Miranda in the air by the throat. I expect to hear her neck snap. I don't expect the alien to grip her throat with such force that her jugular and carotid sever, and blood comes spraying out of her torn windpipe.

Thane launches himself forward, pistol in hand, trying to use this opportunity to take out the Harbinger. An assassin's beam hits him in mid-air. He falls to the ground, his corpse charred, and Miranda is tossed down on top of him, her body limp and lifeless as a ragdoll. I raise my weapon, see Shepard do the same. Mordin and Kasumi are beside her, forming a pathetic protective two-man circle. Spying another assassin, I raise my weapon, but something hits me hard from behind. I'm knocked to the floor, winded, bleeding from a head wound. And as my vision starts to blur I see Harbinger step forward, reaching out for Shepard.

o-o-o-o-o

My eyes open, and immediately I know something's wrong. I can taste blood in my mouth, and my head feels groggy. The last thing I can remember is having a nightmare about our mission through the Relay going sideways. Like all my other nightmares, it was so vivid. So real.

"Lights," I say. Nothing happens. "EDI? Lights!" I bark the command, certain the AI is toying with me.

"Garrus?"

The voice is so small and quiet that at first I don't recognise it. Then, it dawns on me.

"Shepard?" I reach out, to try and touch her, but my hand hits something hard. Panic starts to rise, butterflies beating their tornado-wings inside my stomach. I flatten my hand against the unseen barrier, feel my claws scratch a hard surface. "Shepard, what's happening? Where are we? And why's it dark?" When she doesn't speak, the butterflies in my stomach become more turbulent. "Shepard?!" I demand.

"We're in the Collector's lair," she says at last. "Don't you remember?"

Nausea pulses through my body, and I do remember. That nightmare… it wasn't a nightmare at all. It was real. Miranda, Grunt, Zaeed… they're all dead. Probably Kasumi and Mordin too. Spirits, we'd failed! Flames of desperation lick at my mind. I turn a full circle, claws scratching against a hard surface no matter how I grope.

"Garrus." Shepard's voice stills my movements. "I love you."

"Don't say that!" I shout, my voice harsh to my own ears. "Don't you dare say that! Not now! I know what it means, when you say that! I've already lost you once, Shepard. I lost you, and then I got my whole team on Omega killed because I'm a bad leader. And now I've lost another team… some of them my friends. I won't lose you again, Shepard. I'm going to save you!"

"You already have, Garrus. In every way that counts."

I hear her words, but I'm too busy trying to find a way out of this cell to reply. Spirits be damned, why can't I find a handle, or a control panel? Why can't I feel anything except this cold, curved surface?

"I wish they'd put the lights on," Shepard says. "I'd like to see you one last time."

I don't respond. I think I've found a crack in the surface of my cell. If I can just get my claws a little further into it, I might be able to prise it open.

"Do you know where we are?" She asks. "I saw containers like these when they dragged me through to here, before I blacked out. I saw the crew in pods just like these. I watched as they were liquified alive. They were just… dissolved… right before my eyes. And you know what the stupidest thing is? I keep thinking to myself, I just want to know why. Like, knowing why they're doing this would make all of it right."

Is it just my imagination, or did the door of my cell just shift a little when I pulled against the crack? Quickly, I tried again. I had to get out of here, and free Shepard. We could still make it back to the Normandy. We could still survive. She might have given up, but I'll never stop fighting.

"Garrus!" The fear in Shepard's voice stops me cold. "What's that sound?"

"I don't hear anything."

"It's right above me. And there's heat beneath me. Oh god, it's burning, it's—aaaaaaaaaaaaargh!"

"Shepard!" As her agonised screams echo around my cell, I pound my fists against the curved structure, raking my claws against it, throwing myself as hard as I can against the unmoving door of my cage. I ignore the tears which spill from my eyes, ignore the pain in my already bruised shoulder as I frantically try to reach Shepard. Images flash through my mind; her beautiful green eyes melting inside her skull, her long red hair disintegrating to nothing. Her warm, soft skin dissolving away… I'm now grateful for the darkness that I previously cursed.

Even when her cries cease, I don't give up. I slam myself into my own pod's door, each attempt growing more and more feeble as the will to continue is sapped from my muscles. I sink to my knees. I should be angry. The thought of Shepard being killed like this… it should make me want to vomit. But suddenly, it's all too much. The nightmares have worn me down; I am exhausted, physically, mentally and emotionally. I have nothing left to lose.

I hear a mechanical hum above me, and feel the floor of my cell begin to rapidly heat up, but I don't care. My last thought in life, is that my father was right all along. I am a failure. I was an idealistic fool, to believe that I could make a difference. How could I save an entire galaxy, if I couldn't even save the woman I love?

Author's Note: Thanks everyone for reading, and thanks to my anonymous guest reviewers whom I can't reply to personally. Hope you've enjoyed this brief foray into the horrors of Mass Effect, and I appreciate your feedback and support.