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Garrus came out of the blackness into the vice grip of pain. His face was on fire, his side like a sheet of flame. In the midst of it, her voice, calling his name. Groggily, he thought he had died, and gone to wherever Zia had gone. But then he remembered that she was alive; she had come to Omega looking for him. Or for Archangel, which worked out the same. And he was damned if he was going to die now, without knowing where she had come from and why she was still here.

He woke again in a fuzzy cocoon of warmth, blinking the world's edges back into sharp focus. He was in a medical unit, that much he could tell, and had been heavily dosed with painkillers. Whatever damage had been done must be extensive, he judged, given the sluggishness of his thoughts and his overall lack of interest in moving. Not much to be done but lie there and wait to find out where he was, so that's what he did, drifting in and out of consciousness.

Eventually when he came to he found himself staring into a familiar pair of sharp green eyes that were studying him with concern. "Dr. Chakwas?" he said, his voice creaking as he used it. His face hurt when he talked. Maybe he should keep his mouth shut for a while. If he could, anyway. Keeping his mouth shut had never been Garrus's strong suit.

"The same," she responded. "Glad to see you're still with us. It was touch and go there for a while."

Garrus was less interested in his own prognosis than in the sudden and inexplicable familiarity of his surroundings. He had been in this medbay before. Many times, being patched up after another trip planetside with Shepard. "Normandy?"

"You should stop talking," Dr. Chakwas admonished him. "You'll rip out your stitches."

This time he settled for clearing his throat pointedly, which hurt marginally less.

She smiled. "Yes, you're on the Normandy. Normandy SR-2, to be specific. Completely rebuilt with modifications by Cerberus."

He made a garbled sound that he hoped expressed surprise, concern, and a desire to know more.

"I really think I should wait and let Shepard explain."

Garrus tried to say "Shepard" without moving his mouth, and was not at all surprised when Dr. Chakwas shot him up with another dose of painkiller.

"Get some more rest, and we'll answer your questions when your stitches have healed a bit more."

That sounded like a good plan to him. He was either dead and the afterlife was the Normandy, which he found he was okay with, or he was alive and so was Shepard, which he was more than okay with.

When he woke up next, Garrus felt much better. Dr. Chakwas seemed to agree—at least, she didn't argue with him too hard when he insisted on getting up to take a look at the rest of the Normandy, giving him a prognosis report on his recovery while he was getting dressed. A bit woozy from the residue of the painkillers and however long he'd spent on his back in medbay, he paused in the doorway to get his bearings. He could feel the engines under his feet again. Slowly he became aware of two people talking near him. One was Shepard; the other was Cerberus Guy. Garrus searched his memory for the name. Jacob, yes.

Jacob was expressing what sounded like concerns about Garrus's ability to recover from his wounds. Chakwas hadn't said anything about that, and usually she wasn't one to sugarcoat the truth. She had talked about some cybernetic implants and some surgery that would need a few more days to heal so that he would be ready for action again, but otherwise seemed to think he would be good as new before too long. What did Cerberus Guy have against him anyway? Garrus thought with some irritation.

He made his way out of the doorway, finding Jacob and Shepard sitting at one of the long tables in the mess hall. Jacob stopped speaking and looked up at him, startled, and Shepard turned around, her face brightening at the sight of him. "Garrus! You're up. How are you feeling?"

Garrus shrugged.

"Damn, Garrus, you're a tough son-of-a-bitch," Jacob said with what seemed like genuine admiration. "I didn't think you'd be up yet."

"Takes a lot to get me down," Garrus told him. He wasn't sure he was ready to sit down—or, more to the point, get up again—so he stood next to their table, instead. "Dr. Chakwas wouldn't give me a mirror. She said I didn't want to know. Tell me, Shepard—how bad is it?"

She smiled and shrugged. "Hell, Garrus, you were always ugly. Slap some face paint on there and no one will even notice."

He chuckled at that, and then winced. "Ouch. Don't make me laugh, damn it. My face is barely holding together as it is."

"Who says I was joking?" She grinned at him. Shepard had some scars of her own, Garrus noticed. Leftovers from whatever had happened to her?

"You know, some women find facial scarring attractive," he pointed out. "Mind you, most of those women are krogan …"

"Yeah? Maybe we'll set a course for Tuchanka. I hear Wrex has pretty much taken over."

"That's what I heard, too. Hard to imagine Wrex in charge."

"Right?"

The bells whistled the change of the hour, and Jacob got to his feet. "I've got a few things left to do in the armory. I'll see you later, Commander. Garrus, glad to have you with us." His hand-shake seemed genuine. Garrus wondered if he had just been imagining the earlier hostility, or if that was simply Jacob's demeanor with strangers.

Either way, he was glad to be left alone with Shepard. "You going to tell me now how you ended up in the middle of my completely handled situation on Omega when I thought you were dead?"

"I saved your ass, Vakarian, and you know it." Shepard got to her feet. "Come on, I'll show you the forward battery."

"How did you know? I'm sure everything needs recalibrated."

"I'm sure it does," she agreed. "What did we ever do without you?"

"Well, fortunately, you don't have to find out."

Shepard stopped in the galley. "Rupert, someone I want you to meet. Rupert Gardner, this is Garrus Vakarian. Rupert's our new cook," she explained. Turning to the balding cook, she said, "You got those dextro supplies I had delivered from Omega?"

"Yep." He stepped forward to shake Garrus's hand. "I'm a bit rusty at the dextro stuff, so I'll take any pointers you have."

Garrus shook his head. "You don't want cooking advice from me, trust me. Field rations will do just fine."

"I think we can manage something better than that," Rupert said, "but I do have some nutrient paste for a backup, just in case."

"Works for me. Thanks."

"Anything for the Commander."

Garrus smiled as they left the galley. So she had made a conquest of the cook. No surprise there. Shepard took care of her people. That, at least, hadn't changed. Although the people were Cerberus hires, now, which must make some difference. Once they were alone in the forward battery, the doors sliding closed behind them, he said, "Cerberus, Shepard? Are you sure about this? I still can't get those experiments they were doing out of my head."

"Yeah, neither can I. Except that now I'm one of them." At his quizzical look, Shepard continued, "They found my body somehow after I got spaced, and through whatever miracles of technology they used, they rebuilt me. Completely. I've got some cybernetics, but … most of it is me. I don't know how, Garrus, but they brought me back to life, gave me another chance, and then they brought the Normandy back, too—and all they're asking me to do is what I would have done anyway: look into the Collectors who are kidnapping human colonists. I have a free hand, apparently unlimited funding …"

"It sounds too good to be true."

"I know it does," she agreed. "Which is why I'm glad to have you here. The Illusive Man, who seems to be the head of Cerberus, gave me dossiers on who to recruit, but I don't think he knew who Archangel was." She took a step toward him, taking his hand. "If I'm walking into hell, I want someone I trust at my side."

If she only knew what hell truly had been—those days after she died. He would do anything to avoid that again, even work for Cerberus, as it turned out. Not that he was about to tell her that. Whatever his complicated set of emotions toward her might have been, they still couldn't go anywhere. No use in burdening her with them. He chuckled, carefully, avoiding moving his face as best as possible. "You realize this plan has me walking into hell, too?" He shook his head, taking his hand gently back from her. "Just like old times."

"I'd think a man who was willing to take on the Blue Suns, the Blood Pack, and Eclipse all at once would find a hell a charming vacation. What were you doing on Omega, anyway?"

"I got fed up with all the bureaucratic crap on the Citadel, and it didn't look like it would be much better if I went back to the turian military. So I struck out on my own. And where better to find a good clean-up job than Omega? Hell, all I had to do was point my gun and shoot."

"Apparently you did it pretty well, since you seemed to have pissed off every major merc organization in the Terminus Systems pretty thoroughly."

Garrus nodded, wincing as he thought of his team. "Yeah, we did some good work, really made a name for ourselves."

"Archangel, huh? You going to stick with that one?"

"The locals gave it to me, and I was happy to put my own aside for a while."

A voice erupted from a speaker behind him, crisp and cool. "News networks on Omega indicate that the gangs believe Archangel to be dead. I would recommend discontinuing use of the moniker."

Garrus jerked around, startled.

"Garrus, meet EDI," Shepard said. "She's our new AI."

"An AI? On the Normandy?"

"Yeah. Joker's fit to be tied."

"Joker's here, too?"

"It's the Normandy. Who else were they gonna get to fly her?"

"Well, when you put it that way."

"Mr. Moreau and I should eventually come to an amicable working arrangement," EDI said.

"You have more faith than I do," Shepard told her.

"Do you wish to discuss the human ability to get used to its surroundings?"

"No, EDI. Thank you."

"Very well." The speaker turned itself back off.

"Does that happen often?"

"Anytime she thinks she can add to the conversation. Lack of privacy does come with the Cerberus umbrella. Pretty sure they're reading my mail, too, which is why I haven't tried to contact my mother, or anyone else."

Was it Garrus's imagination, or did she hesitate before the "anyone else"? So Kaidan didn't know she was alive? Or was he already here? "Anyone else we know on board?"

"No, just Joker and Dr. Chakwas. There's a full complement of crew, including a couple of hotshots down in engineering who seem like they could give Tali a run for her money, and then you met Jacob and Mordin, so the only one you don't know yet is Miranda. She's the Cerberus operative who was in charge of bringing me back to life. Word of warning: She and Jacob are pretty gung-ho about Cerberus."

"Noted." He looked around him at the once-familiar equipment. "Looks like Cerberus has done some upgrading in here. Good. We can use it. I wonder if we can upgrade any further?" He wandered closer, focusing in on some of the details that were just a little bit off.

"Oh, no, you don't. Once you start in on the calibrations I won't get a word out of you. Come on, Vakarian, spill. How'd you end up on Omega at the wrong end of a bunch of merc guns?"

"Hm. You know, I thought I'd seen every weapon in the galaxy en route to take down Saren, but mercenary work sure showed me otherwise." He thought of the others and turned away so Shepard wouldn't see the pain on his face.

She saw anyway, her voice calling him back. "Tell me what happened."

"I tried C-Sec, and I went home to Palaven for a while, but I guess I'd gotten used to doing something with my life. So I went to Omega. It was filled with criminals nobody else could touch—and there was no red tape."

"Perfect for you, in other words."

"Exactly. And I … built a squad. Like you would have," he said softly, not wanting her to know what it had meant to him to be building a team in her honor.

"Doing what? It didn't sound like you were available for hire."

"Omega was full of thugs kicking the helpless. I formed my team in order to kick back. We stepped in wherever we were needed. We weren't mercenaries, not really, since no one was paying us. No shakedowns, no civilian casualties. We were there to make things better."

"Sounds ideal."

"Yeah, maybe we were a little idealistic—but every member of my team had lost someone to Omega's gangs. They had a reason to be there, a reason to be standing and fighting for what was right. And we did good work … for a while."

"How did you find them?"

He shrugged. "Apparently, once you prove that you can get things done, people join up. Mercs who wanted to atone, security consultants who were tired of playing by the rules, former military operatives, C-Sec agents. Twelve of us altogether. My explosives expert was salarian; pretty sure he'd been part of the Special Tasks Group. And my tech guy was batarian, believe it or not. Not the friendliest type, but he could hack any system ever built. They looked to me for leadership; I gave them hope. And now—" He couldn't go on, couldn't tell her how he had failed them.

"Garrus." Shepard pushed herself off the table and came toward him. "Tell me what happened. All of it."

"They're dead, Shepard. All right? I got them all killed."

"How?"

He looked at her, standing there. She was going to have it out of him eventually, he could see that, and part of him wanted to tell her, as much as the rest of him dreaded her knowing. "It was my fault," he said baldly. "My own damn fault. One—one of my team betrayed me. Betrayed us all. Sidonis; he was a fellow turian. He drew me away just before the mercs attacked the rest of the squad, then he disappeared." He clenched his fists. "Everyone except me is dead because of him. And because I didn't see it coming."

"Are you sure it was a betrayal?"

"I'm sure. He booked transport off of Omega just before the attack, and he cleaned out his bank accounts."

"I'm sorry, Garrus. I … know how hard it is to lose one person who counted on you. I can't imagine losing all of them. You—" She looked up at him, as if considering what to say. "You're one of the strongest people I've ever known to still be standing after that."

He wasn't strong; he had been trying to die, hoping the mercs would kill him. Didn't she know that? Only her presence had kept him alive, that and his determination to make Sidonis pay. "One day I'm going to find him, and … I won't be leaving him standing."

"Garrus." She wanted to protest, he could see that. Shepard had never been one for revenge.

Holding up a hand to keep her from saying anything further, he said, "I think I'm going to get to some of these calibrations, Shepard. I'll talk to you later."

Shepard hesitated, but apparently decided it wasn't worth arguing. "Sure. Enjoy your calibrating."

She left, and he found a task that needed doing and focused on it, glad to have work to do again, something to keep his mind occupied … and glad to be back aboard the Normandy. Nothing had made any sense without Shepard. Maybe now that she was back, he could find his way.