They were leaving. That was all Garrus could think about. He paced the crew deck restlessly, drawing looks from those still lingering in the galley. Going back to Earth. His hands clenched and un-clenched reflexively. They hadn't had contact with Earth, or anyone, for that matter, since they crash landed here a month ago. And now they were going back.

He had tried to ruthlessly crush the voice that said she was still alive. He was a soldier. He'd seen good men die. Frequently, and without purpose. He knew, knew that death could take anyone at any time, that no amount of denial or disbelief could take it back. Shepard was gone. But her body, the little voice said. You can't be sure until you find her body.

It was not a task he looked forward to. But he'd already begun sketching search parameters in his spare time, using what he remembered of London's layout to determine where she might have ended up if she'd managed to go back down the beam somehow. He remembered quite a bit of London, considering that it appeared in his dreams every night. He did not relish returning to the site of his failure.

Because, as he'd come to realize, the thing he regretted most was not being there. He doubted he could have saved her, given the enormous amount of damage setting off the Crucible had caused, but to have been there, with her, at the end... Instead he was left with the knowledge that she had died in agony, hurt and alone, while he was safe in the Normandy's med bay. If only he had fought her harder, refused to be packed away like an invalid...

Thoughts like these had haunted him day and night. He thought time would dull the pain, but instead it just gave him more time to think of ways he could've been there, to imagine how things might have gone differently. And the longer they were away from Earth, the more that treacherous little spark of doubt grew in his heart. What if she made it out, it whispered.

He was so wrapped in thought that he almost didn't realize that James was standing in front of him. He stopped only a few inches short and blinked owlishly down at the human who had interrupted his progress only seconds before a collision.

James put his hand on Garrus's chest. "Alright, Blue, you have got to stop with this pacing. You're driving everybody on the ship loco. If you have some extra energy, spend it on calibrations. Or come down to the cargo bay and spend some quality time with the punching bag. But this has got to stop. Comprende?"

Garrus tilted his head, considering. Time was, he would have been ready with a snappy come-back to put Vega in his place. But now...He felt like he was underwater, watching current events with a detached disinterest. He nodded his head. "Fair enough," he said, and meandered back to the main battery.

There was nothing left to do in here, and he knew it. The guns had been operating at peak efficiency for some time, and the crash hadn't damaged them beyond what he had already repaired. And he no longer had the drive to figure out how to squeeze out that last one percent. It just didn't seem to matter anymore.

So he sat for a moment on his cot, trying to calm himself. But he was still restless, so he got up and paced the small room, pleased at least that he still had this space. But it wasn't enough. The smallness of the room made his plates itch. He had to get out.

So he left, this time headed straight for the elevator, not pausing to see what the crew members still around thought of his display. Camaraderie and trust were huge parts of a soldier's life aboard a vessel, and he was slowly and systematically undermining his participation in both. He knew that. Thought vaguely about what Shepard would have thought about it. But his thoughts shut down again when he saw that monument to the deceased crew. He could see the empty space in the middle. Where her name would go. He pressed the button on the elevator, the doors closing quickly.

The cargo bay was huge. There was plenty of space for pacing, or running for that matter. Many of the crew members used it as a track, jogging laps around the perimeter. But there were only a handful of people here now, due to the lateness of the hour. Cortez was lounging by the shuttle, perusing a datapad with some interest. James was a little harder to find, at least until Garrus realized that the methodical clanging of metal was not due to a repair effort, but coming from a little alcove where James was performing bench presses.

He sat up when he realized Garrus was standing there. Garrus's mandibles twitched nervously. He felt somehow unprepared to deal with this human, and he could feel the strain of tension in the air. They were both hiding their awkward, vulnerable feelings. And that was good. That was how it should be between soldiers. Garrus didn't ask what James was still doing up, why he was working out when he should be eating or sleeping or relaxing. James didn't make fun of Garrus for taking him up on his offer. The silence stretched out for another moment, both of them taking in the unsaid words, the hidden motivations that were not particularly secret.

Finally they both relaxed. James grinned. "Welcome to the jungle. My little iron jungle, such as it is. Punching bag's there, weights are racked according to size over there," he gestured, "and you're welcome to anything as long as you don't get in my way." He laid back down and hefted the metal bar back into the air.

Garrus's mandibles flexed into a smile. He watched James for a moment, trying to figure out exactly what the human was accomplishing by his repeated movements. He had seen humans working out before, specifically his co-workers at C-Sec, but it had always struck him as strange how they considered repeated and unnatural muscle movements as the best way to train. Turians took a more flexible approach. Running, sparring, and body weight exercises made up the majority of Garrus's training experience. He couldn't imagine how repeatedly curling his arm muscles would prepare him for real life combat. Although, he reflected, still watching the human, James was exceptionally powerful for a human and sometimes seemed more like a krogan in combat, so perhaps there was something to it.

He stretched his arms out wide, feeling his shoulders and elbows pop, and rotated his neck a couple of times. He eyed the punching bag James had pointed out. It wasn't so dissimilar to what he had used in basic training. He gave it an experimental jab. It swayed lazily in response. Gaining confidence, he hit it harder, causing it to swing more violently. Encouraged, he began pummeling the thing, striking quick and hard. He breathed deep and felt his body beginning to awaken, to prepare itself for combat. He smiled. He missed combat.

After a few more minutes, he paused long enough to realize that he couldn't hear James's weights anymore. He turned, and saw the human sitting on the bench watching him. "Never seen a turian fight hand to hand before," he commented, once he realized Garrus was looking at him.

Garrus's hands dropped to his side. "Well?" he asked, inviting judgment.

James thought for a moment. "It's similar enough, I suppose, but your stance isn't anything I'd care to try. You're leaving yourself open at too many critical points. And with those long arms, all it'd take to bring you down is a rush to get inside your guard. You wouldn't be able to stop anyone who got closer than three feet."

Garrus snorted. "I suppose there's one way to test that out. Care to try me?"

James grinned and rolled his shoulders. "You're going down Blue."

Without hesitation, James charged, keeping his body low and driving his shoulder into the turian's midsection, taking him to the deck. Garrus, though surprised, reacted quickly, curling up to get his legs between him and James, and then kicking the marine off him. James rolled to his feet and dropped into a defensive stance, eying Garrus with a wolfish grin. "Not bad," he said. "Those talons of yours might pose a problem for me."

Garrus laughed, caught for the moment in the intensity of combat, simulated though it was. It felt good to let go. "I'll admit that I'm not particularly concerned," he said. "This may be your first time sparring with a turian, but it's not my first time sparring with a human."

With that, he lashed out, intending to catch James in the side of the head with an unexpected blow. But the human was quick, dodging the attack and then rushing under Garrus's guard and delivering a quick punch to his torso. Garrus staggered back a bit from the force of the blow. "That's not going to work on me, Vega. I'm not soft and squishy in the middle like you." James cursed and shook out his hand.

"Me, soft and squishy? I think you've forgotten who you're talking to," he said, slapping his abs to prove their worth. "Besides, I'm sure you're soft and squishy in other places." James rushed again, this time hooking Garrus's leg with one of his own and twisting him down to the deck. The impact knocked the wind out of the turian. James stood over him, laughing. "That must not be a move in the turian repertoire, eh?"

Garrus blinked for a second. He was right, it wasn't. The spurs on their legs meant that a turian using that move on another turian was just as likely to get tangled and go down too. But he had experienced it before. From one Commander Shepard.

In an instant, memories overwhelmed him from the last time he'd sparred with her. Her laughing face, the way she'd tied her hair back to keep it out of her way. She had been so small, and he'd tried to be careful with her, but she was so infuriatingly fast it was all he could do to keep her off of him. She'd smelled so sweet, so human. Sweat and something floral. He'd ended the match on top of her...he knew she'd let him win, and truth be told that made it all the more sweet. Both of their hearts pounding, her tiny body captured neatly beneath him, her eyes so intense as they dared him to make a move...

He was brought back to the moment by James clearing his throat. Garrus realized that he was still lying flat on his back, and James was standing some feet away. "You okay, Blue?"

Garrus grunted and sat up. "Yeah, fine." He could still feel the battle fury coursing through his veins, but now it was mixed with an unfocused and powerful lust.

"I guess I know your weak spot now, though, huh? Want to go again?"

Garrus shook his head. "No...I'm just going to bed now I think." James cocked his head in curiosity at this strange behavior, but said nothing as Garrus headed toward the elevator.

As soon as the doors closed, Garrus collapsed against the wall. His chest hitched with hard-caught breath, which he exhaled in a painful and supremely frustrated growl. His hands clenched at his sides. He wanted her so badly, so badly it hurt, and she was gone. Not just gone but dead. The pain in his chest was an even match to the fire in his belly.

He roared in frustration and desire and pain.


A/N: Sorry this chapter took me a while. I really wanted to get the character voices right since it's an important chapter. Also, I'm getting married next week so I have no idea how long it will be before another chapter comes along. So I hope, at least, that you enjoy this one. And thank you, as always, to those of you who favorited, followed, and reviewed this story. It really makes my day that you guys are enjoying it! :)