Written by MosaicCreme with dialogue and actions for Shepard provided by MizDirected.
Words taken from MizDirected's Turian Dictionary:
Perir - Peririn plural. Male turian under the age of 15
Torin - Torini plural. Male turian of the age of majority (15)
Tarc - Vulgar expletive equivalent to shit.
Obluvis - One who is senile or absent-minded. Slang: Idiot
Garrus watched from the doorway, as Shepard stopped to joke with Nahlah and Butler. He lingered there, afraid if he moved any closer to her she'd flee again, breaking the magical moment. Shepard was still there, trapped inside L'oeuf, and he could see her shining through brighter than ever as she grinned at Butler's embarrassment. She always did have a way with people, and Butler seemed to bring out the best in others. He'd have to do something special for him, buy him a month's supply of pizza or something.
Hmmm. Maybe just a new gun instead.
Shepard walked away, leaving his line of sight, and Garrus turned his attention to putting on his armor. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he stopped to run his hand over the little perir's fringe before making his way toward Dr. Solus' office. Half of his team slept in awkward positions, wrapped around poor, injured, and malnourished children. He stopped to rest his hand on Sidonis' shoulder, letting the other torin know he and the others could leave whenever they wanted. Sidonis nodded absently, turning his attention back to the perir laying next to him.
In Dr. Solus' office, Garrus pulled out the desk chair and sat down, stacking datapads and setting them off to the side to clear a space for the laptop. Settling the bag in his lap, he took a deep breath to steady himself. Showing the contents of the laptop to Shepard felt like a dangerous gamble, but he promised her he'd help find out what happened to her. Determined to see it through to the end, Garrus opened the bag and set up the laptop, booting it up and opening the first folder she'd need to see.
He sat there for a few minutes, staring at the Cerberus logo, swiveling the chair back and forth while he waited. Where was she? Panic started to creep its way up his spine, little tendrils of darkness wrapping themselves around his vertebrae. If she ran again, it be because of him, because he had to open his mouth and say something stupid, pushing her away when all he wanted to do was pull her closer. Garrus checked the time, trying to think of how long it'd been since she left his sight, but he didn't know when that was and … he bolted out of the chair, nearly jumping over the desk to get to the door.
Spirits, she ran again!
Slamming his fist against the door's release, Garrus growled at himself. He sucked in a breath, relief hitting him like a charging krogan when he saw her across the room, talking to Butler. She smiled, her grin breaking into a chuckle at something Butler said. Garrus flicked his mandibles and chuffed, watching as Butler held the box of pizza out to Shepard, and she tucked it under her arm.
She turned toward Dr. Solus' office, the toe of her slipper catching on the floor when she saw him standing in the doorway. She looked down at her pizza. "Thanks again, Butler. Cold pizza is one of my favorite breakfast foods." She took a couple of steps toward the office.
Garrus smiled encouragingly and stepped aside so he wasn't blocking the door, waving his arm out toward the desk. "It's ready for you."
"Thanks." She sidled past him, pizza held like a shield until she got into the room. Her heels scraped across the floor when she glanced at the laptop. Shepard took a shaky breath, pushing her shoulders back, and made it the rest of the way to the desk.
Garrus tried to ignore the distance he felt between them. Seeing her do everything she could to avoid touching him as she crossed the threshold, tore into his heart. He moved to the desk, pulling the chair out for her and pointed at the screen. "So, hmm. I think this is probably the best place to start."
"Thanks," she said, then chuckled, a sharp, bitter sound. "Again." She sat in the chair, the pizza on her lap. "So, what are we looking at here?" She squinted at the screen on an angle so she remained facing him, but after she began reading, her attention shifted fully to the laptop.
Garrus paced away a few steps, turning to lean against the wall, crossing his arms loosely over his chest. He wanted to give her space, but didn't want to go so far away as to seem like he didn't want to be with her. "Uh, well to start it's information Cerberus gathered on the missing human colonies in the Terminus Systems. They think … well, I'll just let you read it for yourself."
She's not going to believe it if she doesn't see it for herself. Tarc, she still might not. I barely do.
She read through the file, setting the pizza down on a side table. "So, Cerberus believed in the reapers? But why would they think they needed me to face them? No one believed me outside of Anderson and the crew." Shaking her head, she scrolled down the page. Her heart rate spiked on the blue readout of Garrus' visor. "None of this makes any sense." Smelling strongly of frustration, she pushed away, turning to take a piece of pizza out of the box. "I'm not some fucking superhero."
Garrus hummed softly, hoping to keep her calm by staying calm himself. "It's because no one else believed that they thought they needed you. You didn't back down, didn't give up, and when the time came, you led the fleets against Sovereign. Now human colonies are going missing, and they think it's the collectors working on the reapers' behalf." He lifted his shoulder in a shrug. "It's Cerberus, Shepard. Not much of what they do makes sense, I can see why they thought you would champion their cause against the collectors and reapers … I just don't understand why they would bring you back from the dead to do it."
She pulled back, a tight knot of a frown tying itself between her eyebrows. "Why would you think I'd champion the cause of terrorists? Especially after all the things we saw?" She threw the pizza slice on top of the box, untouched. "Because I'm the Butcher of Torfan … the human willing to slaughter aliens—"
Tarc, what did I say wrong? That's not … oh, Spirits.
Garrus chuffed, pushing away from the wall, holding both hands out in surrender. "Whoa, hey, Shepard. That's not what I said, and it's not what I meant." Garrus shook his head, taking a slow breath, trying to choose his next words carefully. "I said I could understand why they would think you'd help … because it's the reapers we're talking about, that's it. That's all I meant. I can see why they'd think you'd be willing to fight against the reapers, stop the collectors from taking more people." He could feel her slipping away again, and the scent of his own desperation filled the room in thick clouds heavy enough to make him choke.
She turned back to the computer. "If they thought they could recruit me, they were wrong. I've already sold my soul to the devil to save people." Bracing her elbows against the edge of the desk, she leaned forward, resting her forehead in her hands as she read. "So Cerberus thinks the reapers are using the collectors to take out human colonies. Why?" In a sudden, violent burst of movement, she shoved the computer away, leaving it teetering on the edge just like her. "None of it makes sense. This isn't telling me anything, just that they dragged me through months of the worst hell imaginable in order to have a Shepard puppet." She shook her head. "I'm not living with someone's hand up my ass. Dance little Spectre, dance."
Garrus walked over to the desk, pulling the laptop back to stable ground and closed the lid. "Shepard …." He reached out, wanting to touch her but thought better of it, dropping his hand to his side. "It doesn't matter what they wanted, you're not with them." He talked softly, keeping his voice as mellow as he could despite his muscles balling up into tight knots beneath his plates, tense from her reaction. It wasn't what he expected at all, and he wasn't sure what to do to help her. "And they're not going to get their hands on you again. I thought reading these files would help you to understand what happened … understand you're really here." He gulped, dropping down into a crouch next to her chair. "But I'm an obluvis and didn't understand how much this would upset you. So maybe that's enough for now, the rest will be there if you decide you want to read it another time."
Lacing her fingers, she held her breath, and swallowed. She rubbed her fingers against one another, twisting them together. She looked away from him and pressed her eyes closed. After rubbing her lips together, she swiped the back of a hand across them. "It says someone from the Normandy turned over the few shreds of me that survived dropping through Alchera's atmosphere." She sniffed. "Do you know who?"
Garrus took a deep breath and shook his head, his mandibles flaring. The chaotic mix of scents rolling off of her crashed over him in heavy waves. "I don't, I'm sorry. The files only say 'she'. I can't imagine Tali, Liara, or Dr. Chakwas doing it … so, it has to be someone else. Or maybe it's a lie, I honestly don't know. It could just be something they fabricated; planned on showing you when you woke up." Garrus rested his hand on the arm of the chair. "How do you feel about calling Dr. Chakwas? Maybe there's something she can tell us, or someway she can help you?"
"Chakwas." The name came out like a sigh. "Scariest person on the boat." Her hands dropped to her lap. "You know, as strange and detached as it feels … " She looked into his eyes and shrugged, one shoulder lifting toward her ear. "... the other story is easier. It makes more sense."
Not for me, Shepard. Not for me. Nothing in this galaxy made sense without you in it.
After staring at his hand for a moment, she lifted hers to rest on top of it. "Chakwas is going to want to lock me in a hospital." She smiled and shook her head. "I'll end up Cat 6'ed and thrown in a padded room." Her right eye betrayed her, a tear slipping down the slope of her nose before she swiped it away.
A distressed keen rolled through his chest, and he hung his head to cut it off, staring at the floor between his knees. He swallowed several times, but the knot in his throat refused to budge. When he spoke, his voice came out hollow and cracked, "I don't know what to do, Shepard. I don't know how else to help you. Tell me, and I'll do it, but I'm shooting in the dark here."
She sniffed. "You and me both. I don't know what to do with any of this." She paused a moment. "As much as I don't want to, maybe we need to meet with the uptight Cerberus chick … get more than pieces of information." She chuffed, a phlegmy sort of snort-cough combination. "Not that she won't lie through her teeth, but if they wanted me to take on this fight against the collectors, they must have had a plan beyond 'hand Shepard a gun and point her toward a collector'."
Garrus jerked his head up, turning his gaze back to her, horror stricken by the suggestion. Pushing himself up to his feet, he rubbed his jaw. "Shepard, I'm not sure that's …."
Careful.
"I mean, wouldn't walking into a meeting with her just be giving her the chance to make a grab for you?" He took a step back, turning to pace the floor. "What if … what if I find her, bring her to you in handcuffs. It's the only way we can make sure she's alone."
She nodded. "Well, I'm certainly not walking into their headquarters, so yeah, we'd have to make sure we had the advantage." Meeting his eyes, she raised her brows and shrugged a little. "That's what Archangel does, isn't it? Protect people from the bad guys?"
Garrus stopped his pacing, his mandibles fluttered, determined to express his anxiety like it or not. He glanced down at his hands as if they might hold the answers for him and shook his head. "I'll see if I can find her location, it might take a couple of days, but I'll bring her in. I'll …" He curled his talons into fists, opening and closing his hands. "I'll make sure she gives you your answers."
She stood, facing him. "Thank you." Reaching up, she touched his cheek with her fingertips. "I'm sorry I'm such a disaster. I wish I could just be her, but she died. I'm what's left … or what they managed to bring back." Swallowing, she pulled away and stepped past him. "I'd better check on Radis and then go look after Splash and Coco." She paused at the door. "Thanks for helping me with this."
Garrus swallowed, fighting back the urge to scream and rage against the injustice of it all. He turned, his gaze following her as she walked away. He wanted to tell her she was wrong, he could still see the old Shepard inside of her, but even if the woman he knew was gone forever, he'd do anything and everything he could to ease her pain. He didn't have the words to tell her, and she didn't seem to hear him when he tried. So, he told her the only way he could; the only way he thought she might understand. "I love you, Shepard. Take care of yourself."
She took a couple of steps, her eyes studying the concrete floor, letting his words hang unanswered in the air. He didn't care, she didn't need to say it back. Telling her he loved her wasn't something he did lightly, and it might never come easy, but if it helped her at all, he'd keep saying it every chance he got. She looked up, glancing outside of the office, a slight frown tugging the corners of her mouth. Garrus followed her line of sight and saw Dr. Solus watching her. The salarian shook his head, and Shepard sighed.
She twisted to look back over her shoulder at Garrus. After a second, she took a deep breath. "Would you like to come? You said you'd like to meet them."
As soon as he heard the word 'come', Garrus took long strides back to the desk, bagging up the laptop without even bothering to shut it down. "I'd like that." He didn't know what passed between Shepard and the doctor, but he'd have to remember to thank Dr. Solus for it later.
"I'll get dressed and meet you back out here?" Her eyebrows twitched with the question.
Garrus nodded, his mandibles fluttering. "I'll be waiting." He tried for a smile, but knew it didn't sit on his face right.
He watched her leave the office, the door sliding closed behind her. Only then did he allow his shoulders to slump and let out a defeated sigh. Knowing he had only a few minutes to wallow in the rising sense of hopelessness, Garrus plopped back down into the desk chair and dropped his forehead to the table with an audible thud. The keen he held back earlier rose up in his chest, making his throat ache until he let it roll out of him, high and filled with sorrow. He struggled to keep it quiet enough so it didn't reach Sidonis. Garrus didn't want to explain himself to the other torin if Sidonis came running in to check on him, but with each passing second he found it more and more difficult to care.
Why should I care? Shepard's alive and in desperate need of … some kind of help, and everything I say just seems to make it worse for her. I thought for sure Dr. Chakwas … she always seemed to like Dr. Chakwas. And the Alliance wouldn't … would they? She's Commander Shepard! They'd be happy to have her back, wouldn't they? She's a hero.
The door opened and Garrus glanced up to see Weaver standing in the doorway. She lingered there until Garrus dropped his head back to the desk, then he heard her come inside and the door close behind her. She didn't say anything, just came to stand beside him, resting a hand on his armored shoulder.
Garrus rolled his head along the desk's surface, turning until he could see Weaver out of the corner of his eye. "I don't know how to help her."
Weaver patted his armor and smiled sympathetically. "You are helping her. What she's been through, boss … that kind of thing takes time to come back from. It isn't going to happen overnight, no matter how close you two were. But having you be there for her … be patient with her, it'll help her come around."
"Spirits. The only time I've ever been patient is while waiting to line up the perfect headshot." Garrus chuffed, sitting upright.
Weaver laughed and patted his shoulder again before letting her hand slip away. She turned, crossing her arms over her chest and leaned against the desk. "You don't give yourself nearly enough credit."
Garrus held his hands up, flashing his empty palms at the ceiling before letting them flop down to the desk. "I keep saying stupid things."
Weaver grinned. "All men do when they're in love. Doesn't matter the species."
He hesitated, turning his gaze to study her with narrowed eyes. "Everyone knows, don't they? Have I been that obvious?" Chuffing again, Garrus sat back in the chair.
Weaver let out a quick bark of a laugh. "Are you kidding? We all knew before you even did." She slapped him jovially on the back before moving around to the other side of the desk. "Just be patient and give her time, boss. What's our next move?"
"Miranda Lawson. We find her and bring her in, alone. Shepard's got questions, and Lawson's going to answer them." Garrus held Weaver's gaze, waiting to see if she would argue with him, tell him it was a stupid idea or tell him they had bigger problems on Omega to worry about.
She only nodded her head and turned toward the door. "I'll get the team started on tracking her movements. Let us know when you're ready to make your move."
"Weaver," Garrus said, stopping her before she could leave, "thank you."
"Somebody's got to keep your sorry ass from falling apart." She winked, flashing her rows of white, blunt teeth at him before leaving him alone once more.
Garrus stared at the closed door a moment, taking slow, deep breaths, and then he pushed himself to his feet. Slinging his bag back over his shoulder, he left the office. Shepard waited for him near the lobby entrance, and just seeing here there renewed his determination, bringing a genuine smile to his face.
He led Shepard out of the clinic to one of the skycars his team brought in the night before. He felt bad for a whole two seconds, taking one of the vehicles from his team, leaving them to figure out how to get back to the base on their own. He brushed it aside easy enough knowing they'd manage, and he'd be able to spend more time with Shepard. Opening the door for her, he stepped aside. "Uh, unless … do you want to drive?"
Her lips tugged a little to one side. "Gotten brave over the past year and a half, or has the time just wiped your memory of all the screaming and arguments that resulted from my driving?" She moved to the passenger side. "I can just enter the destination coordinates."
Garrus coughed into his fist, his mandibles fluttering. "I haven't forgotten." Patting the top of the skycar, he grinned. "She handles a little better than the Mako … and maybe I've gotten a little braver." He closed the door for her, moving around to the driver's side with his grin still firmly in place. Settling into the skycar, he started the engine and got it airborne, waiting for her to enter the coordinates before taking off.
Pointing to a large, open area at the front of the hidden corner of the mines she called home, she said, "You can land just there in the center of the open area."
Garrus lowered the skycar to the floor of the mine, turning the vehicle off and stepping outside. He looked around, his mandibles fluttering lightly. The idea of Shepard living in the mines soured his stomach, but to go down there with her … maybe he could convince her to move to the base. He could set something up for her goats, the base had plenty of space in the back. "Lead the way." He offered her a smile, hoping none of his reservations showed on his face.
She shrugged, a light blush reddening her cheeks. "I'll give you the VIP tour." She gestured to the chamber furthest to the left hand side. "That's where I sleep. Nothing fancy, just a cot and a few small appliances." Leading the way, she flicked on the light next to the cot. "Like I said, nothing too exciting."
His eyes caught on the drawings scattered throughout the cavern, across a small crate and stuck to the walls. Sucking in a sharp breath before he could help himself, Garrus held on to it a moment, letting it out slow. His mandibles held tight against his jaw as he looked around, he nodded. "It's not exactly your private quarters on the Normandy, but I suspect as N7 you've slept in worse." He tried for a smile, the movement feeling awkward and unsteady.
Her wounds will never heal living down here.
"Yeah, crashed in a lot of motels way scarier than this." She stepped toward her collection of weapons, three large racks lined up along the wall. "Being freelance has its perks. I've never had an armory like this before. Hell, I hadn't seen half of these before."
Garrus chuckled, reaching for an M-97 Viper sniper rifle in her collection, something tugging at the back of his mind. He paused to look at her with raised brow ridges. "May I?"
"Of course. The Viper, my personal favorite, although I admit, I thought you'd go for the M-920 Cain." She picked up a krogan shotgun and turned it over in her hands. "I only use a couple of them, but can't seem to part with them, either. This Graal Spike Thrower is something. Saw it tear the head off a vorcha." She shuddered. "Don't think I could ever bring myself to use it."
"They designed it to tear through thresher maw hide. It's not pretty but it gets the job done; does a number on armor." The words came absently as he let his gaze roam over the sniper rifle, turning it over in his hands. He extended the scope, bringing it up to his eye. "Not bad. Be better if you let me fix it up for you, of course." Collapsing the scope, he replaced the weapon on the rack. His mandibles fluttered, little pieces of the puzzle he'd been working out slowly falling into place. "The, hmmm, the warehouse with the staged mercs … that was you, wasn't it?"
"Yeah. Those private bastards are good cash, but they're also ruthless as all hell. I like new recruits to think twice before deciding to join up." She set the shotgun in its spot and took a few steps back. "The sick fuck who runs the organization has it out for me, keeps trying to trip me up, so I leave him little love letters." She hoisted a huge sniper rifle off the rack and held it out to him. "Here, take a look at this beauty."
Spirits ...
Garrus fought the urge to run his hand over his crest and shake his head in disbelief. What he'd seen in that warehouse would stay with him the rest of his life. Granted, he'd seen far more gruesome scenes, but the way she orchestrated the whole thing, and then staged them afterward spoke volumes about the severity of her mental state. It shook Garrus to his core, but he wouldn't let her see. He couldn't let her see. Instead, he turned his attention back to the gun rack and the weapon she held in her hands.
Garrus grunted as he took the rifle from her, pulling the heavy weight up to his shoulder to put his eye to the scope. "M-98 Widow. Spirits, Shepard. This thing probably weighs more than you do. Do I even want to know where you found this?"
"Took it off a Blood Pack battlemaster." She grinned. "It looks good on you in a very badass, 'going to rip my own arm off when I fire it' sort of way." Letting out a long sigh, she shook her head. "I could never fire it. Hell, I may or may not have been forced to drag it all the way back here."
Garrus chuckled, his mandibles fluttering as he let the worry from a moment before slip away, happy to let it be replaced by something a little more familiar. "Hmm. Not bad for a battle trophy. You should have it mounted over your threshold; a warning to all of your enemies." Grinning, he lowered the weapon, his arms already protesting the weight of the Widow. "If you want … I can take a look at it back at the base. I can probably figure out something to make it more manageable for you."
She shrugged. "Nah, I'm happy with my Viper: have no patience for reloading every shot. You can have it, play around modding it, and then one-shot everything in sight."
His mandibles flared as he eyed her. "You're serious?"
"Absolutely. I probably was thinking of you when I took it." She ran her hand along the closest rack. "Too many guns sitting here doing nothing as it is."
Garrus grin widened. No wonder he'd fallen in love with her when she had a propensity to always find him new toys to play with. "I feel like," he said, his mandibles flaring, "what's that saying? A kid in a candy store? Is that right?"
"That about sums it up, completely." She sighed and shook her head. "And I can't leave the really badass weapons around for Hock's men. There are some people who just shouldn't have weapons more powerful than a pea-shooter."
"Hock—he's the one you're leaving love letters for?" Garrus settled the Widow back on the rack, having no plans of lugging the thing around the whole time. He'd get it again before he left."Why does he have it out for you?" He stepped away from the gun rack, taking in the rest of the chamber, idly moving about but staying within a meter of her. Squatting down in front of her makeshift coffee table, he picked up one of the drawings of a reaper, taking in the intricate way she'd used the Normandy's explosion to forge the nightmarish image on the page.
I have to find a way to help her. There has to be someone … something able to pull her back from this dark place she's in.
She shrugged. "I think it's just become a very messed up Wile E. Coyote versus the Road Runner sort of contest. Who can outwit who." She let out a long, noisy breath and crossed her arms over her chest. "He sets the traps, I thumb my nose at him when they fail to stop me."
"I don't know what a wily coyote versus a road runner sort of contest is, but clearly he doesn't realize who he's up against. Why haven't you just taken him out?" Garrus glanced down at the paper in his hand, filing the image away for later consideration.
"He lives on Beckenstein as far as I can tell. I've taken his top dogs out a few times, but it puts him out of business for about a week at most. He's hard to shut down for the same reason I went after him in the first place: he's rich and ruthless as all hell." She pushed off the wall and nodded toward the outer chamber. "I'd better look after the ladies." Screwing her mouth up a little, she frowned. "I brought them here to be company, and I've been practically nonexistent since they got here."
Garrus pushed himself up, turning the paper over in his hand so she could see it. "Can I keep this?" He cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly. "Maybe it'll help me understand things a little better."
"I don't know," she said, tossing him a careless shrug, "not sure I can spare one." She chuckled, the sound coming out so bright and honest it seemed to startled her, and she clapped her fingers over her mouth, cutting it off.
The drawing forgotten, left to fall back to the crate, the moment the beautiful sound of her laughter echoed off the chamber walls, Garrus crossed the little space between them with long strides. Gently, he slipped his talons around her wrist and pulled her hand away from her mouth. "Don't … I've missed the sound of your laughter, please don't hide it from me."
She stared at where his hand still circled her wrist. "Felt a little like a jail break there for a second." Reaching out, she slipped her fingers into his hand and nodded behind her. "Come on, I'll introduce you to the ladies." A slight smirk and a crooked eyebrow accompanied her words as she said, "Be a gentleman, they're in a delicate way."
Garrus smirked, flicking his mandibles. "So … I'm not supposed to tell them they look like food, because I can already tell you, from here, they smell like food."
She shrugged as if telling him he could be taking his life into his own hands by doing so. "You can, but if they go into labor … you're delivering their babies." She watched him out of the corner of her eye as she led him toward the gate.
"Hmmm. How many babies do goats have at once? I mean, if they have whole litters, we could survive off these things." He flicked his mandibles, tilting his head thoughtfully. "Depending on how big they are, Ripper might need two or three to himself."
"You're heading straight into 'feeding Harold in your undies' territory, my friend." She stopped at the gate. "That's how big they are, and they have one or two kids at once." When the dark brown goat reared up, resting its hooves on the gate, she tickled the goat's lips. "This one is Coco. The black and white one is Splash."
"Wait, who's Harold, and why would I need to feed him in my 'undies'? Shepard, if you want to see me in my 'undies' you know there are better ways of going about it." Garrus chuckled, moving to stand next to the pen, letting the goats sniff at his gloved hand. "They're kind of cute, actually." Garrus coughed. "I can't believe I just said that." Mimicking Shepard's gesture of affection, he used his talons to scratch around the goat's mouth and chin. "Their eyes are fascinating."
"Harold is a thresher maw, and I think that answers your other question, doesn't it?" She unclipped the gate and eased it open so they could step through.
Garrus' jaw dropped, his focus riveted on the readout of his visor, trying to determine if she was messing with him. When the readings came back normal, his hand shifted to check his weapons, making sure they were still secured in their holsters. "Shepard, you're serious? You have a thresher maw living down here?"
"Yep. I found him in a terrarium in a Blood Pack base. He's less than a meter long, and his acid isn't virulent enough to eat through armour." She stepped out of the way to let him into the goats' chamber. "I throw him leftover meat from Zullius' every couple of days, and he keeps pyjaks out of my veggies." She bent over the closest feed tub to scrape out the leftovers. "You willing to get your hands dirty?"
"Always. What do you need me to do?" Garrus wanted to remind her Harold wouldn't stay small forever, but he didn't want to push his luck. He moved to stand next to her, looking down at the mess in front of her.
She passed him the feed tub, then moved to the next. "You're in charge of heavy lifting." She scraped out the second tub and then led the way back out to the chamber filled with her supplies. "I ordered all the supplies I'd need for a year when I bought them," she said, taking the empty bins from his hand, then filling them with dried feed. "But when the supplies arrived, Aria had added a whole crapload of stuff. At the bottom of the pallet, she'd hidden a small, wooden box my father carved for me one Christmas." She patted one of her pockets. "The box was full of pictures and old keepsakes … the only things I carried away from Mindoir."
Garrus squatted next to Shepard and reached down inside his armor, tugging up the edge of her scarf he still wore around his carapace. "I could smell her on this." He tucked it back down inside. "You know she has Sookie on display in Afterlife? How'd she get ahold of so many of your belongings?" Picking up one of the filled feed tubs, he balanced it on his knee while he scooped up the other.
"Yeah, I saw Sookie." She shrugged. "It was all on the Normandy, but it would have meant salvaging my quarters, and Sookie was in my locker." She rolled down the feedbag, then leaned against it, her arms braced. "Do you think maybe whoever gave me to Cerberus took my things as well?" A rough, derisive cough cut from her throat. "That's awfully damned mercenary."
Garrus swallowed, using standing up as an excuse to buy time. "I don't know. I suppose it's possible, but I'm still having trouble believing anyone from the Normandy would've given you over to Cerberus." Garrus started moving back toward the goats' pen. "Wouldn't the Alliance have gone looking for the crash site as soon as we went off the grid?"
"Yeah, I launched a distress beacon before going after Joker." She followed him back to the pen, seemingly lost in her own thoughts. "Unless someone else was out there or hacked into our comms, I don't see how they could have beaten the Alliance out there." She took one of the bins from him and set it under the tap she'd installed in the water line. "I mean, it's all sort of starting to seem orchestrated." She turned the water off and covered the bin before sliding it back into its spot. "Does that sound paranoid? It feels paranoid."
Garrus lifted his shoulder in a shrug. "There's a lot going on here we don't know about. The Normandy did go down in the Omega Nebula, so Aria would've been closer, but it doesn't explain how she knew. Unless she has something going on in the same area." He shifted his weight, glancing around the goats' pen. "I know they said it took a couple of days to locate and bring in all of the escape pods." He chuffed, shaking his head, the memories of those long days stuck in the pod with Joker weighing down his shoulders, making it hard to breathe. "Felt like cycles. Maybe they slipped in while the Alliance was rounding up survivors."
Once both feed tubs were covered, she headed back out to grab the skip bucket and rake. "Maybe Anderson or Kaidan would know what was going on." She raked up the dirty shavings and threw them in the large plastic bucket. "Are you in touch with anyone else? Liara? Tali?"
"Liara and Tali have given up on me." He hesitated, wondering if he should explain the statement but decided to let it slide. "I can reach them, though, if you want to talk to them. I'm sure they'd be really happy to hear you're alive. Wrex is on Tuchanka. I don't really know where Kaidan is—he's probably been re-stationed. I'm sure Joker and Dr. Chakwas would want to know, too." Garrus hummed softly. "Joker blames himself, you know?" He didn't mention that for the longest time, he blamed Joker, too.
She nodded, but didn't look up. "Not his fault." Concentrating on the work, she raked everything up. "More questions for Miss Cerberus, maybe? Be easier than trying to deal with Liara or whoever."
Garrus flared his mandibles. "Yeah." He paused to swallow. "We'll get what answers we can from her."
"She's a place to start." She nodded at the skip. "Would you mind dumping that over the edge?"
He picked up the bucket, carrying it out of the pen and over to the deep, dark hole on the other side of the skycar. Glancing down for a second, he shrugged and tipped the contents of the bucket over the edge. He wondered where the hole emptied out, but figured on Omega it didn't really make much of a difference unless it landed right in Aria's lap. Carrying the bucket back to Shepard, he sat it down next to her feet. "You don't want to talk to Liara and the others?"
"No." She wrapped her hands around the rake handle, her fingers wringing a little. "I … they … well, they just don't need to try to deal with all of this." A soft, sad combination of sigh and chuckle followed her words. "Neither do you, but you tripped over me, so you're stuck." She leaned the rake against the wall, and headed out to get shavings. "Mind carrying the wood shavings for me?"
Garrus followed after her. "If by tripped over you, you mean suffered through days on end of hearing Butler talk about the Pizza Angel because you decided to feed him like a stray varren …." Garrus stopped in his tracks, shaking his head. He couldn't keep brushing aside the heart wrenching things she said, opting for humor as his primary means of communicating with her, even if it meant putting his foot in his mouth again. "Spirits, Shepard. You have to know I'd be devastated if I found out you were alive, here on Omega, and never found you. You're not a burden to me." He reached out for her hand, tugging her gently to get her to turn around. "You're a miracle."
Staring at their connected hands, she nodded. "Not sure about the miracle part, but …. " She squeezed his talons. "If you think it will hurt them not to know, then you can tell them, but it has to be clear that I'll contact them when I'm ready." She met his eyes for a second before continuing. "Come on, chores don't do themselves."
Garrus swallowed, nodding vigorously. "I won't even tell them where we are … although Liara and Tali already know I've been on Omega for awhile now. Hmmm, I suppose Wrex does, too." Garrus shrugged. "Okay, well obviously I didn't think that through. But I won't tell anyone else. They'll be so relieved to know you're alive." He let her lead him off, leaving his hand in hers as long as she allowed him too.
She walked a few steps before stopping, the bag of shavings in her free hand settling to the floor. "And … Garrus … no matter how crazy I get, no matter if I come completely unhinged and end up in that padded room …." Glancing over at him, she pressed her lips together and squeezed his talons. "I want you to remember something, okay?"
He fought back a cringe. Hearing her talk about the possibility of things getting worse instead of better felt like being doused in ice water. He didn't trust himself not to say something stupid and make matters worse, so he squeezed her hand in return and swallowed before nodding his head, letting his gaze drop from her eyes.
"I love you, too. As messed up as everything is, finding you is my miracle."
His heart stuttering in his chest, Garrus looked up, his brow ridges raising with surprise. He'd been preparing himself for the worst, but instead she delivered the best. Holding his other hand out to her, he tightened his grip on her hand, giving her fingers a little tug. Shepard stepped into him, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his armored chest. His breathing hitched; the warm, summer aromas that seemed sunbaked into her skin cutting through the other scents of the mines surrounded him. Inhaling deeply, he held onto that little piece of her, keeping it safe inside himself. Humming contentedly, he slid his hands along her arms, bringing them to rest against her back. As much as he'd been struggling to convince her that she was real, it still caught him by surprise how solid and warm … and alive she felt in his arms.
After a moment, Garrus shifted enough to get her to pull her head back. When she looked up at him, he cupped her cheeks in both hands and pressed his forehead to hers. "I didn't think I'd ever get to hear you say that," he said, taking a shuddering breath and running a talon along her jaw, "and now that I have, I don't think I'll ever be able to hear it enough."
Garrus pulled off his glove, running his bare talons over Shepard's head, pushing stray locks of hair out of her face. She slept peacefully, her body curved around Radis. The perir slept just as soundly, but according to Dr. Solus he'd been in and out of sleep while Shepard and Garrus tended to her goats. Shepard went straight in to see the perir the moment they reached the clinic. Radis definitely worked his way into her heart, and Garrus had a feeling she wouldn't be letting go of him anytime soon. Maybe it would be good for her—for both of them; Radis needed someone to care for him, and Shepard seemed to need something good and wholesome to invest herself in.
Garrus' crew had cleared out, all except Butler and Melenis. When he got back, he found Butler sitting on a cot surrounded by children as he read to them—using dramatic hand gestures and silly voices to bring the story to life. Melenis spoke to her sister on Thessia, trying to make plans for the young asari to be escorted back to the asari homeworld. Garrus had left them to it, following after Shepard just like Coco and Splash. He couldn't help himself, she'd been missing from his life for so long …. He'd have to leave her soon enough if he wanted to bring in Lawson. He knew Weaver would already be hard at work tracking the Cerberus operative down; only a matter of time before she called to tell him Lawson had been found.
There were mercs and thugs running rampant on Omega. Criminals of all sorts were just begging for Archangel to take them down. He had calls to make to Tali, Liara, and Wrex—but he didn't really know what to say to them just yet. He could be working with Melenis to find placements for the children Shepard saved. There were a million things he could be doing; at least half a dozen things he should be doing, but for the time being, next to Shepard was where he needed to be.