Author's Note: Hi everyone; just a couple of vignettes here that didn't quite fit into the main storyline. Both from Garrus's POV. The first is set the night he and Shepard arrive at the estate; the second after his father's argument with Livia that Shepard overhears. I felt like he had some issues to work out with his family, too.

First Night

Garrus sat on the grounds outside the estate house and looked up at the stars. He'd always liked being outdoors there; inside, not so much. They'd used to come up regularly when he was a kid, escaping the summer heat of the lowlands for the cooler climate of the mountains. Even then, things had been fraught. He hadn't always been aware, when he was very young, but as he'd grown older, he'd gotten more sensitive to the air of tension that surrounded the place. The way his mother smiled less often, even though they were on vacation. The way Great-Aunt Livia had been stiffly, punctiliously polite.

She'd been in residence even then, and old even then. It seemed as though she'd been old his entire life. Retired, even then, after a career in Survey. Planetary exploration. Ended when she'd fallen down a cliff on a high-gravity world, breaking several bones in her legs and pelvis, which had never set quite right. It wasn't a career for a woman with a bad leg, and she'd been seventy-odd at the time, so she'd taken a graceful retirement.

She didn't like to be asked about her health, so he'd refrained. That hadn't stopped her from asking a series of hinting questions aimed at finding out what had happened to him.

He sighed and leaned back on his elbows. Shepard had headed to her guest room a while back looking worn out. He'd wanted to follow just to make sure she was all right, but he hadn't been able to extricate himself from conversation with Livia. Solana had gone with her, which made him feel a little better. Of course she was all right, but she was still recovering, and it had been a long day, and his family could be hard to take even if you knew them, which she didn't. Maybe he should have tried to prepare her better. He imagined himself handing her dossiers on his kin and snorted at the image.

Quiet footsteps behind him, slightly uneven. Solana. She sat down beside him and handed him a beer.

"Thanks." He took a drink.

"No problem." She opened her own bottle.

"Thanks for helping Shepard find her room."

"No problem, again. I like her."

"Good."

They drank in silence for a moment, before Sol said, "Tycus was telling her something about how you just wanted the family to validate your life choices."

Garrus groaned.

"I smacked him for you, so don't bother."

"It not as if he's entirely wrong," Garrus muttered.

"You know, if you actually talked to Dad, you might feel better."

"I have talked to Dad."

"About logistics and being Primarch, yeah. About the two of you, not so much."

"Sol, leave it alone. We'll work things out in our own time."

"Sure you will." She sighed. "Fine, I'm leaving it." Then she punched him in the shoulder. "Omega, Garrus, really?"

He rubbed his shoulder. "Ouch."

"Really? You went off to Omega and did your best to get yourself killed, and you didn't even tell me?"

"Well, I knew you'd react like that, so—"

"And I'd have been right. Garrus. You used to tell me things."

"You had enough with thinking about Mom—"

She hit him again, open-handed this time. "And you didn't think I'd wonder where my only brother was after not hearing from him for months? A year? How did you think that little adventure was going to end?"

He shifted his weight, uncomfortably, and had no answer for her.

She went on, more quietly, "What, did you think we'd eventually shrug and say 'well, I guess Garrus isn't coming back. Good riddance'? Did you really think I wanted to lose my brother as well as my mother? What the fuck were you thinking?"

He sighed deeply and tipped his head back. The stars shone down silent and distant. "I wasn't. Thinking, I mean. I wasn't thinking that far ahead, or that clearly. I wanted... to make a difference. To do something purposeful."

After a moment, she said, "I missed you, you idiot."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I went away and didn't tell you, and let you worry."

She nodded and wrapped an arm around him. "Apology accepted. Baby brother, don't you ever pull something like that again."

Part of him wanted to tease, to ask "or what?" But he'd learned, over the years, how to pick his moments. "I won't."

Wish You Were Here

Garrus found his father on a balcony outside one of the second-floor sitting rooms. He might have been a statue, sitting stock-still in an old wooden chair. Garrus had made no particular effort to approach silently, but he hesitated in the doorway, unsure what to say. Shepard overheard you—no. Were you arguing with Livia? No.

Once, he knew, it wouldn't even have occurred to him that his father might be in need of some company. Or comfort. Guess he really had learned a few things over time. "Dad," he said, by way of greeting.

His father gestured to the chair beside him, and Garrus took it. Sitting in silence, Garrus looked out. It wasn't the most spectacular view at the estate; he was partial to the westward views, because of how the ridge opened up to the plain below. Eastward, the way they faced now, it was mostly hill and forest. Lightly populated, and so largely untouched by the Reapers, even though the dense vegetation and rugged terrain had provided good hiding space for the turian resistance.

"Your mother always liked this view the best," his father said suddenly.

"Do you know why?"

"She was raised in the city. She always said the western view was too open. The forest felt more populated, she said."

Garrus hmmed in response. After a moment, his father continued. "She never really liked it up here, but I... we thought it was important that you and Solana should experience the outdoors."

We. Whatever personal differences they'd had, his parents had settled them behind closed doors and kept a united front before their children. Even with his father on the Citadel for weeks or months at a time, his mother always expressed the rules of the household as "we." He'd been... nearly thirteen, or fourteen, even, before he learned to read the subtle signs of disagreement between them. "I always liked it up here," he offered. "I liked running in the woods, and how we used to go shooting."

His father nodded. "Good," he said softly, and Garrus thought he understood the subtext for once: then it was worth it. "How is Shepard finding Palaven?"

"She says it's beautiful. I took her out hiking in the woods a couple of times." No need to mention the... other activities they'd engaged in. "She grew up on Earth, but she hasn't spent this long planetside in a while."

His father nodded again. The silence settled between them again. Garrus fidgeted in his seat and then began to speak just as his father did.

The older man chuckled, briefly. "Go ahead."

Garrus said, "I don't... I don't think I ever thanked you properly for looking after Shepard while she was hurt. While I couldn't. It means a lot to me." It was real acceptance, that he hadn't been sure of having, even after his father had accepted his request to bring Shepard into the family. It reminded him, too, of his own failings. He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I wasn't here more while Mom was ill."

His father hummed thoughtfully. After a moment, he said, "I was going to say that your mother would have liked Shepard. I am glad to have had the opportunity to become acquainted with her."

Garrus suppressed a smile at his father's characteristically measured, formal manner. "Do you really think so? I wish they could have met, but..." He broke off, swallowing down the strain in his subvocals.

"Yes," his father said firmly. "She was always good at seeing beneath the surface of things. And she had great trust in you."

Garrus blinked at the oblique praise. "I wish she could have been here," he said quietly.

His father looked back out over the forest vista. "So do I."