Chapter 10

For three hours, I do nothing but sit on the bed of the captain's cabin and cling to what remains of the ghost that paid me a visit. Her ghost. Her words echo in my mind, not stopping for a second except to be joined by things the real Shepard once told me. Images flash in front of my eyes of all the moments we spent together, on duty and off, and I practically feel her holding onto me, her weight pressed against mine. Every so often, my gaze drifts up to the viewing glass over her bed, to the view of the stars and the strikes of blue coming from FTL travel, and I remember gazing up at it with her all those nights when we laid here together.

When I finally stand up, it takes a moment to regain my balance. Getting up for the first time in hours is hard enough on my legs as is without the added strain from what's left of the poison. It's only now that I realize the muscle weakness is lingering along with the hallucinations. I wonder what would happen if I fell asleep this time. Maybe Liara wouldn't be able to wake me up again.

I shake the thoughts away and start moving around the cabin. The first place my feet take me is to the bedside table on which rests the photo from the party. I let my gaze stay on it for a moment as I remember the hilarity that ensued from putting Wrex and Grunt in the same room for the first time since Grunt's Rite, the stolen moments Shepard reserved for me even as she meticulously planned a few minutes with everyone there, the indescribable feeling of how right it was to have everyone that mattered most to us there together.

Pushing the memories of that night to the back of my mind, though letting them stay in motion, I move over to the fish tank and look in at the creatures floating through the water. I remember following Shepard through the marketplaces on the Citadel when she first got them and wondering why she thought it was a good idea. …I still wonder that. I smirk to myself as I dismiss it as a crazy human thing and walk away.

The next thing to catch my attention is the music system. I find myself scrolling through it and find that two songs on the selection have been played more than any others. One is the song we danced to on the Citadel, the one she apparently had set as an alarm. The other is the song that was playing the night before the assault on Cerberus Headquarters…the one to which we spent our last night together. Before I know what I'm doing, I turn on the second song and let it ring through the cabin.

As the tune brings back the feeling of holding her in my arms, I move on through the room, passing by the couch and going up to the area that essentially acted as her office. I find my focus locking on the bathroom. After a few seconds, I realize why. I'm standing in the exact place I was the night before the Omega-4 relay, where I was when she came out and gave me one of the most cherished memories I have of my entire life.

Letting the memory take me over and last as long as possible, I step closer to the door and end up leaning against the shelves. One thing on them she really cared about is the cage in which she kept her hamster. I suppress the urge to laugh as I think of the day she found the small, furry creature in the Citadel gift shop on Zakera Ward. I remember thinking First the fish, now this? But the way her eyes lit up when she adopted the rodent was more than enough to make me happy it was coming back onboard with us. She cared enough about her new pet to stop in the middle of an assault on pirates attempting to steal the Normandy and check to make sure her tiny companion was alright, only returning her attention to the problem at hand when Tali and I pressed her to and even then taking enough time to tell her furry friend "If anyone gives you any trouble…go for the eyes." I can't resist the urge to laugh at that memory. Or the way she ended up jumping around the engineering deck when she found the hamster scuttling between crates just after the Reapers hit Palaven.

The emotional attachment she had for the creature prompts me to build up some concern for it. Curiously, I tap a talon against the glass and wait for a response. Just like it always did whenever anyone would interact with its cage, the little animal inside peeks out of its "playhouse," presses its nose to the glass to see who's knocking, lets off a small "Squeak!", and ducks back into its hiding place. I smile, shaking my head at the display, and turn to look at the rest of the area.

For a moment, I look over the display case of the models she collected over the course of the war. It occurs to me that she essentially got a new one for every mission we completed. But that's not what really draws my attention. What catches me here is the terminal reserved for her use only. The one through which she called me up to her cabin every night for weeks after the suicide mission and several nights over the course of the war. The one in which she accessed the message I sent after the Cerberus coup to meet me on the Citadel, the very meeting where we "made it official."

As my hand reaches over to turn on the terminal, a subconscious motion I can't seem to stop, I find myself wondering who all has accessed this terminal in the past 13 months. I know Ashley and Liara took on an unofficial command in the five months following the Crucible's deployment (or, more accurately, the four months following the repairs to our crashed stealth frigate and departure from the uncharted planet the Crucible left us half-stranded on) so that the Normandy could assist with the restoration efforts. But, as far as I know, it's been on hold with the Alliance for the past eight months until it became necessary for someone to take command of it again. Still, how many techs have come through the cabin during that time to keep everything in working order? Did any of them touch it? I know Traynor has been up here pretty much every day to take care of the fish and the hamster. Would she have messed with the terminal?

I get my answer when I turn it on. Everything is exactly how she left it. I can tell. Before I can think about it, I sit down in her chair and start scrolling through the archived data. Two past messages are marked. When I open them, I see that it's the one I sent to meet me the day we had our shooting contest and the one I sent to meet me at the casino the night we had our "first date." I smile at the memories these messages bring back and the thought that she obviously cherished those moments as much as I do. Then I stop going through the messages and start scanning through the mission reports. I look over the information on all the missions we had together—she even stored the ones that built up to the suicide mission. After a while, I notice that every mission I accompanied her on is marked, too.

For once, I wonder what might have happened if I had been the one that died activating the Crucible and she had been the one left behind. Could she have moved on and found a life after the fight, one I couldn't see for myself? Or would she be sitting here, leading this mission, possibly facing hallucinations of me from the memories, wondering how to go on alone?

"There's no Shepard without Vakarian."

I finally switch the terminal back off, the memory providing my own answer. I knew her. She would've done both.

But the question invokes a new one. If she were the one leading this mission, would she be fighting a clone of me? Would she be able to handle it? My gut tells me she could, but the rest of me doesn't know. Not sure what to think, I wind up calling up the readings my omni-tool caught of the clone. The vital signs and DNA scans are a match to Sara Shepard, but the brain waves are completely different. That's it then. That's proof. This is really a clone of her—same body, different mind—one that hasn't even said one word to us since starting the attempts to kill us.

Fighting her clone was simple enough the first time (even kind of fun), but that's probably just because she was with us. She was there to watch our backs, we were there to watch hers, and plowing down mercenaries at every turn gave us the chance to really cut loose. But she was the one who handled the clone itself when the time came. I could have handled it then, too, if only because I knew the woman I loved was at my side. Now I don't have her and the thought of fighting someone who looks exactly like her is killing me as much as the poison is. That revelation makes me glad I stepped down from the mission. Then again, that makes me wonder what I'm supposed to do with myself in the meantime.

When the first answer that comes to mind is "Eat" and I realize I haven't in the past eight hours, I figure it's time to leave the cabin. So I get back on my feet and take the elevator back down to deck 3. As soon as the doors open, I hear the others gathered in the mess area, discussing the situation at hand.

"…that I should take command instead, seeing as I was Shepard's last XO," Liara is saying, "And as such, I feel it falls to me to question the Shadows' motives. Why kill your own employer? And why, after doing so, would you still continue the contract?"

"Maybe we're going about this all wrong," Wrex comments as I step out of the elevator, "We need to forget the toned-down strikes and head straight for the top."

"I have insufficient data for locating the Black Shadows' headquarters or identifying their leader," EDI explains as the elevator door closes behind me, "However, if we can find more of their bases, we should be able to triangulate…"

I don't hear whatever it is they say next. After coming out of the elevator, I'm stuck staring straight at the memorial wall where, right in the center of it all, hangs the plaque in tribute to my fallen kalwen. For about five seconds, I boil over in fury at whoever's bright idea it was to put the wall right in front of the elevator so that you're thrown directly into a state of mourning every time you head to the mess or the med bay. Then the rage fades as the grief sets in again. Once more, I run my fingers along her name, tracing the letters with one talon. Every letter I touch invokes a new memory of my time with her. That situation makes it occur to me just how much time we spent together and just how many letters it takes to spell "Commander Shepard."

I smile sadly at that thought and use what strength I have to push it away. This isn't the time, half of me reprimands. No, Vakarian, it never is, the other half retorts. But I'm not making things better by going to war with myself. Either put the grief behind me or grieve the way she would've wanted me to. Of course, that choice doesn't help. The first option is less than favorable to my present state of mind and I've never been able to figure out how the second one would work. What would she want me to do?

She'd want you to move on. She'd want you to find happiness somewhere. It's true. That's unquestionable. I know…but I can't.

Finally, I force the thoughts from my mind. I just have to focus on what I came down here for. Then I can head back up to her cabin and wallow in self-pity for a few more hours. At least doing it there will be less painful.

"…they're trying to accomplish by killing us," Miranda is saying when her voice comes back into my hearing, "The readings we took in the fight on Ilium make it undeniably clear that the archer they've been throwing at us is a clone. How does 'eliminating Shepard's crew' benefit them if Shepard is truly dead?"

I ignore the tight feeling in my chest that the last four words bring forth. Not listening to my thoughts racing with She's gone, she's gone, she's really gone forever…, I drag my feet around the hall towards the mess area.

"Maybe someone Shepard upset on a mission is trying to get some posthumous revenge," Ashley suggests, "That would explain why they've been throwing so much at Garrus personally. Maybe—" She cuts herself off when I round the corner and she sees me.

I stop walking when I notice that the others are looking at me, too, a few of them instantly guilty for having another behind-my-back conversation. "Don't stop on account of me," I instantly say, "I'm not even on the mission anymore." With that said, I head straight to the actual kitchen and start searching for the dextro supplies.

The moment I come out of the cabinets with them, I'm face-to-face with Miranda. "You're not fooling anyone, Garrus. We know this is killing you as much as the poison is."

My first instinct is to start debating with her, but I know she's right. So I sigh and set the food aside long enough to come out with it: "It was hard enough losing her. For the past year, it's felt like she's haunting me. For someone to…do that to her again and then throw it at us like this, at me…" I can't find the words to finish. The rest is pure emotion, feelings I can't describe in any way that will do them justice. "…I'm glad I'm not going out into that next time, won't have to face that again…but I'm also more upset than ever at the thought of missing a mission and I don't know why."

"I think I know. And it's kind of hard to see how you couldn't."

Spirits, why does she have to be right so often?!

As if she read my mind, she meets my eyes with a steel gaze and says what I figured she would: "We know you, Garrus. And we know how much she meant to you. All you need is time. Even if it takes a century." Then she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a sample of the antidote to the turian poison. She must have gotten it from Dr. Chakwas or Liara before coming over to talk to me. While I take it and grab the food back, she turns on her omni-tool. "Before the final assault on Earth, she sent some things my way. Fair guess says she sent them to Liara first but didn't want to risk it if…things went bad in the fight. She said, if anything happened to her, to send them to 'who they belonged to.'"

Her message then goes through and my own omni-tool pings to tell me so.

"That one was meant for you. I meant to give it to you some time ago, but…well, no time seemed like the right one until now."

I check the message quickly. It's a video message. I'll have to watch it later. "Thank you."

Miranda just nods. "If you ever need anything, you can call me."

"Miranda!" Jacob calls from the squad's makeshift meeting point, "EDI thinks she can pinpoint a few Shadows bases. One of them is on a station not far from here."

"Alright. I'll start getting ready to move in." With one last glance my way, she walks off.

I stand there, thinking over her words as the others start getting ready for an infiltration. Once they've all left the area, I administer the antidote to myself and start heading back to the elevator. As I ride it up to deck 1 and go through the turian food (lucky for me, having Tali onboard as well really does encourage the collection of quality dextro supplies), I wonder at what could be in the video message that she couldn't have said in person, that would've promoted her to send it to Miranda to ensure that it made its way safely to me if anything ever happened to her.

The elevator opens. I head into the cabin. I sit down on her bed again. Nothing has changed since I went down. It's like the universe has stopped moving and trapped me in some kind of loop—from remembrance to grief to weariness and then back again. Nothing's going to change until the poison in my veins is completely gone, the Shadows and their Shepard-clone are taken care of, and I head back to Palaven, this time content to call my old squad-mates whenever, and attempt to live my life the way she'd want me to.

If I even can.

I barely notice when I access the message. Though I just received it five minutes ago, I can see the time-stamp on the original recording. It was made just moments before the Normandy came back to the Sol System. …so, after coming back from the assault on Cerberus HQ, she gave the order for the fleets to assemble and then headed back to her cabin…and she spent the prep time recording farewell messages to all of us, ending with me. Spirits, is that what she was working on when I came to her cabin before we hit Cronos Station? The datapad she was scanning over when I came to the room and asked to keep her company, was it keeping track of who mattered enough to her to receive some final words?

After a moment of wondering who all made the cut and if Miranda has given those messages to their rightful owners as well, I work up the nerve to open the message meant for me. When the display opens up, it's like I've come alive for the first time in a year. An ecstatic feeling I haven't had since the moment she told me "You'll never be alone." resurfaces inside me at the sight of her. Not a ghost, not a clone, not a lifeless still picture on her bedside table or the console in the Normandy's main battery—her. Every battle scar, every loose strand of red hair, the glint in her emerald eyes—it's so real that I long to reach out to her again.

"Hi, Garrus," she speaks from 13 months ago, her voice causing my heart to pound, "If you're watching this, then we won the war and I didn't make it back. I was going to send this message to Liara, but I figured there's as much chance of her going down in the fight as there is for me so it's going to Miranda—she's not going to be on the front lines when we go in full assault on the Reapers, so there's more of a chance for her to make it out even if something goes wrong. She'll make sure this reaches you. And I know we're probably going to have some big heartfelt goodbye just before the final run, but…I need to say this now. I need to make sure you're going to hear it.

"First of all, I wanted to thank you. For everything. For helping me in the fight, for being there for me when I need you, for covering me, for believing in me…for being the love of my life. No one in the galaxy could ever take your place. Not in any way. When I had no one left to trust, you came back into my life and I saw how much I needed you. I said it once and I'll say it again: I couldn't do this without you, Garrus. You're the one who got me through it all, the reason I had the strength to go on when this war was too much for me to take. …I love you. I've never cared about anyone the way I care about you. I've been thinking lately that I haven't said that enough and I wanted you to know that it's true. It always was. And it always will be.

"The second thing is…don't be afraid to go on without me. Keep fighting. For me. I know I couldn't take it if I lost you, especially not now, but I don't want you to suffer any more than you have to. I won't blame you for going a little crazy after I go but I especially won't blame you for moving on and finding something—someone—else. I want you to. I know it might be hard to think about—I especially can't see how I could find anyone after you—but you deserve your happy ending. I really do love you. And because I love you, I want you to have that…even if it means I can't be there to give it to you." That's when the tears started coming. The thought of it was killing her. I hated to see her this way—I still do. But she finally pulls it together and says what she needs to say:

"…lastly…I'm hoping to pull some strings so that what I have will go to you. You're pretty much the closest thing I have to family—you and the rest of the squad. If I had my way, you'd really be my family already, but life doesn't always work out the way we want it to. Nobody knows that better than me. So take what you can get. Keep moving forward and hold on, but don't ever look back. I know I wouldn't change anything if I could. Everything that's happened to me since the Normandy first started running, especially every moment I've had with you, has been…perfect. …I'll be waiting for you, watching for you, when I move on. I'll always be with you. And call this my last order as your commander: please do not hurry to follow me…but make sure you come find me when you get there. I love you, Garrus. Goodbye."

I stare at the screen as the message ends. I quickly save the message and put it in a safe place. While I do, I mark it to make it easy to come back to. I already know I'm going to be opening it pretty much every day for the rest of my life. Only once it's saved do I close down my omni-tool and let the message really sink in. But as I think over her words, I realize something's wrong. My eyes are stinging and my vision is blurred. I reach my hand up to check what the problem is, worried that the poison is already coming back into effect so soon after taking the antidote. But what I find is the exact opposite.

What do you know? I guess turians really can cry.