"What do you mean she's missing?" Garrus shouted the words at Miranda, who had the grace to almost look ashamed. "I'm gone for a day and a half and you lost her?"

"Look, I wasn't briefed on the particulars of her mission. It's not my fault." Miranda shot back at him, hands on her hips.

"Get us back to the Bahak system, now!" He roared it at her, hands clenched. His blood was on fire, his head pounded. He couldn't tell if this was rage or fear. It didn't matter, all that mattered was getting to where she was.

Jacob put a hand on his arm, his face sympathetic, "We're already en route, Garrus. We'll get there as soon as we can."

Garrus pulled his arm away from the human, his eyes tiny slits, accusing, "You should have stayed there. We could have waited at Hagalaz."

Joker cleared his throat and Garrus swung his gaze over the small man, who cowered in his seat in the cockpit, "Orders, Vakarian. She told us to go get you."

That damned woman and her orders. He took a steadying breath, willing himself not to space the pilot, they'd never get there if he did. When he reached some semblance of calm, he opened his eyes, "What's our ETA?"

The three humans relaxed, trading glances. EDI popped up beside Joker, "6 hours, Executive Officer Vakarian."

Garrus gaped at her, "What the fuck did she just call me?"

Miranda cleared her throat, drawing his attention, "Uh, before she left, she made you her XO."

His jaw snapped shut and he stood up in shock, banging his head on the too low ceiling in here. He rubbed his bruised fringe and shot an angry glare at all of them, "Well ain't that about a bitch."

He turned on his heel and stalked into CIC, glaring at anyone who dared to salute him. This just wasn't fair, he punched the buttons on the elevator savagely. How dare she, was this how she wanted to try to prepare him this time for her death? If she were here, he'd throw the title back in her face. He headed down into the cargo bay, in need of something to punch. He didn't even bother to get out of his armor before laying into the punching bag, kicking and clawing. When the chain holding it up broke, he just went after it on the ground, using all of his strength in each kick and swipe of his talons. The bag opened up like a split carcass, its stuffing pouring out like intestines. Or maybe that was his overactive imagination.

After what felt like hours, he slumped to the ground, finally exhausted, breath dragging in and out with effort. He felt a tiny little snap inside him and keened wordlessly, rocking back and forth slightly. He covered his face with his hands. A nameless terror welled up, what if she was gone again? He'd fought so hard for her, what would he do? What would he become?

He started as he felt hands on his shoulders. Opened his eyes blearily to see Miranda crouched in front of him. He pulled away from her a little and for some reason felt guilty when he saw the hurt in her eyes. She sat cross legged in front of him in silence, watching him calmly as he pulled himself together. He realized that they'd never spoken, not really. She seemed so distant, cool in her demeanor like she was observing an experiment. Once in a while, he'd catch her interacting with the crew like a person, but for the most part, she kept her distance.

She reached for a case that she'd brought with her, opening it with a flick of her wrist. Her heavy pistol was in there and she pulled it free and started disassembling it, running a rag over it with gun oil. The astringent smell filled his nostrils and he unconsciously relaxed, the scent meant long comfortable hours of solitude, just him and his guns. Garrus watched her for a moment then reached out to take one of the mods into his hands, "M-5 Phalanx. Didn't think they were on the market, yet."

She worked in silence and he watched her hands move over the weapon lovingly, "It was a gift."

Garrus handed her the part wordlessly, watching her pick flecks of dirt out of every crevice with her highly polished nails. She sighed and put aside the parts, "You know, I'm mad at her, too."

Garrus snorted, still feeling a pang in his chest, saying without his usual tact, "Why? Because she gave me your job?"

She snorted, right back at him, "You can have it. You've no idea how much paperwork I have to do because of her."

"Crap, there's paperwork?" He mimicked her sitting posture, saying ruefully, with a bite to his words, "I knew it sounded too good to be true."

"Most things do." She smiled bitterly.

Garrus looked at her frankly, "Okay, I'll play. So why are you mad at her?"

"Because as long as I've been on this crew, I don't feel like a part of it." There was pain crinkling the corners of her eyes, marring that perfectly symmetrical mask. "I bloody well rebuilt her and she treats me like I'm just some Cerberus lackey."

"Hmmm. I'm sure it would surprise her to find out that you feel that way, not that I'm going to tell her, Miranda." He studied her face, saw the red flush his regard brought to it. His brow lowered in puzzlement. "What?"

"You really don't know, do you? I guess no one would have told you. All turians do it." She avoided his gaze and he just grew more confused.

"All turians do what, Miranda?" His voice was weary and exasperated and he closed his eyes, trying not to think of her.

"You stare."

"Is that a crime on Earth?"

"No...but when a human male stares, you know, intently, like that, at a human female, it sort of signals...interest." She laughed as his eyes shot open in panic.

He held his hands up, looking anywhere but at her, "Crap, I don't-it's not that I don't-I can't-"

She rolled on the floor, clutching her sides, wheezing out, "Relax, Garrus. I know how you feel about the Commander. It's just one of those silly cross species body language things. You know Mordin thought I was flirting with him the other day, said my lower eyelid movement was suggestive."

"Oh, alright then, whew...I mean, not that I wouldn't-with you, I'm just, you know, not into the whole human thing, well other than the one exception-"

"Well, she is exceptional. But I'll have you know, I'm usually considered attractive so let's just change the topic before you actually hurt my feelings." She pouted at him and he relaxed with a laugh. Suddenly, she seemed so normal. He experimented a bit, staring at her and laughing when she blushed. Her face grew serious, "She's gonna be okay, Garrus. You'll see."

"Spirits, I hope so. I'd be lost without her." He rubbed his chin and decided he wanted to clean his rifle, too. Dragged its case to him and sighed when its familiar angles and curves were revealed to him as he opened the top.

"I think we'd all be lost without her." She lapsed into silence as he pulled his sniper rifle apart expertly, watched him blow down the barrel, fingers checking for burrs and damage. Without really thinking about it, he started crooning. Absently, he noted that it was the song Shepard had written for his mother and accepted it as the comfort it was. He added the words softly, under his breath. He looked over to Miranda, who was listening to him intently while putting her pistol back together, so he sang a bit louder so her translator would pick up the lyrics and she smiled when she heard what the song was about.

It was about a warm night, and two soldiers talking about times long past, friends lost, lovers lost, battles lost and how it was all still worth it. He'd been told that a lot of cultures had parallels, how strange it was that species that were so different sang and made stories about the same things. There was an underlying commonality to all life, he realized. It was something he'd known before, but not consciously. It was humbling to say the least.

Miranda was whistling along with him now, following the melody pretty well. They worked like that for a while. He brought the song to its end just as he snapped the locks back on his guncase, standing, "Thanks, Miranda. And for the record, you are part of the crew. If you'd just do more of this-"

He gestured at the air between them, "-I think you'd see that. Shepard sees it already."

"How do you know?" She cocked her head at him, her insecurity flitting across her face.

"Because I do. And because she hasn't airlocked you." He laughed at her incredulous look, "And now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to CIC. I'm in charge now, someone gave me the big stick. And that someone is going to hear about it when she gets back."

Six long hours, he was fretting himself to pieces up here staring at the galaxy map, silently willing the little triangle that was the Normandy to move faster. His gaze focused on that little symbol and the narrowing gap to the Bahak relay. Kelly shifted nervously at his right, everyone was tense. Joker announced that the ship would be there in ten minutes. Garrus announced over the intercom for everyone to be on red alert. He checked the ship's weapon systems one more time just in case they had to come in guns blazing.

Then they were through the relay, staring down a giant chunk of space debris headed right for them. He heard Joker say, "What the hell-!"

Then the comm channels opened and a blessedly familiar voice rolled over them, "Shepard to Normandy, Joker, can you read me?"

A ragged cheer went up and he cut it off with a wave of his hand. Garrus heard Joker reply, "Commander Shepard, Normandy inbound for pickup."

"Roger that." And she cut them off. Garrus held his breath as he waited for her to come around the corner from the airlock. His face split in a wide grin as she did just that. She half-turned to say something to Joker, then marched into CIC.

The smile slid from his face as he realized something was very wrong. She walked along the corridor like she was going to her own execution. He couldn't even see her face, she was still wearing her helmet. It was deathly silent in CIC, the only sounds were her boot steps as she stalked toward the galaxy map. Garrus felt his skin crawl as he took in how stiffly and unnaturally she moved, with none of her usual grace. He wanted to rip that helmet off her head and see if she was actually in there. That it wasn't just an empty suit and she'd died somewhere on that rock they'd just left.

He stepped back from the map just as she swept by him, taking her usual spot with her hands on the rail. Slowly, she reached up and removed her helmet, dropping it to the deck with a clang. Garrus jumped at the sound, as did a few others. He needed to see her face, but he was afraid to see her face as well. A gasp from Kelly dragged his attention to the map. An expanding ring of white enveloped the Bahak system, leaving a horrifying blackness in its wake. Slowly it dawned on him what he was seeing. The Bahak system was gone, utterly destroyed when that asteroid slammed into the relay. All those colonists wiped out in a blink.

He quailed at the horror of it, looking at Shepard's excruciatingly stiff back, Spirits, Jane.

Her voice came low and quiet, but filled all of CIC with its flatness, "Get us to the fleet."

"Aye, aye, ma'am."

She turned with jerky little motions and Garrus finally caught glimpse of her face. Its emptiness frightened him, the eyes that been so expressive since her resurrection were dead in her face. It was worse than that mad light from so long ago. So much worse. He felt his knees sag. That dead stare slid past him unseeing and she walked to the elevator. Everyone sagged with relief when she was out of sight.

He reached down to pick up her helmet, turning it over in his hands. Avoiding the looks the crew kept tossing his way, Garrus made his way up to the cockpit. Joker looked at him over his shoulder, a grimace on his face. He said in a spooky sing song voice, "She's ba-ack."

A shudder ran up Garrus' spine, and he choked back bile, "Don't, Joker. Just don't."

Joker thumbed the comm, "We've arrived at the fleet, ma'am."

There was silence from her comm for the longest time before she finally said softly, her voice still flat, "Prepare for the arrival of Admiral Hackett."

Joker mouthed 'what?', and seconds later they received a hail from the fleet stating just that. "Fuck, I hate it when she does that. It's fucking eerie."

Garrus turned and saluted the middle aged human male in Alliance uniform that came around the wall from the airlock. There was a scar that ran from brow across his lips to his chin on that careworn face, deep and twisted, must have been one hell of a wound. Hackett looked him up and down before barking, "Where's the Commander?"

It was the question Garrus had come up here to ask as well and he looked to Joker, who pressed a few buttons on his terminal before saying, "She's in medbay, sir. Down one deck, keep right."

When the admiral was gone, Garrus gripped the back of Joker's chair, hissing, "I need to see what's happening in medbay."

For once without argument, the pilot flipped on the surveillance camera in that part of the ship. The vid was a little grainy, but the sound came through just fine. Garrus watched Chakwas flutter about Shepard, berating her on her carelessness as she administered shots and medigel. Shepard just sat there in her armor like some inanimate doll, staring into space. She didn't even move when Hackett entered, didn't look at him, didn't salute.

"Hm. Looks like you've recovered." Hackett's gravelly voice floated up to him.

Shepard's mouth dropped open slightly and soft words fell out of it, "Admiral Hackett."

Hackett shifted from foot to foot, "Sounds like you went through hell down there. How are you feeling?"

She flicked those dead eyes at him and he coughed nervously, "You went out there as a favor to me. I decided to come debrief you in person."

Then the man clasped his hands behind his back and his face hardened, "That was before the mass relay blew up and destroyed an entire batarian system. What the hell happened out there, Commander?"

Garrus wanted to reach through the screen and choke that insufferable little human, hadn't realized he was growling until Joker shot him a look. He took a deep breath and forced himself to relax, unclenching his hands from where they were leaving indentations on Joker's chair. Shepard's next words chilled him to the bone. "I confirmed Dr. Kenson's proof. The Reapers were coming. Destroying that relay was the only way to stop them."

"Holy shit." said Joker softly. Garrus nodded agreement.

"Kenson sedated me for almost two days. I started the engines with little more than an hour left. I tried to warn the batarian colony...but time ran out." Her face was still so very vacant, Garrus twitched fretfully, knowing he should be there with her.

Hacket looked away from that blankness, actually looking the tiniest bit remorseful for sending her out there, "The batarians report no survivors from Aratoht. At least you tried."

The admiral turned and made to walk away then and paused to turn back and say, "And you believe the Reaper invasion really was a threat?"

"No doubt about it. We literally had minutes to spare."

"I'm sure all the details are in your report. I won't lie to you, Shepard, the batarians will want blood, and there's just enough evidence for a witch hunt. And we don't want war with the batarians. Not with the Reapers at the galaxy's edge."

Those dead eyes followed the man as he paced, "What are you saying?"

Garrus felt his stomach drop at the admirals next words, "Evidence against you is shoddy, at best. But at some point, you're going to have to return to Earth and face the music. I can't stop it...but I can make them work for it."

And the turian gasped when he heard Shepard say, "I'll gladly stand trial once this mission is complete."

Hackett said, his voice muddied with some emotion, "I'm glad to see working with Cerberus hasn't stripped away your sense of honor. Do whatever you have to do out here, but when Earth calls, you be there with your dress blues on, ready to take the hit. In the meantime, you keep this, I don't need to see your report to know you did the right thing."

Garrus nearly took a surprised step back when Shepard seemed to look right at him, that dead face staring through the lens of the camera, "Yes, sir."

"You've done a hell of a thing, Commander." And with that, Hackett left. Shepard, without moving, seemed to dwindle in his absence until she seemed so small and frail. It yanked at Garrus' heart, but his uncertainty kept him from running down there and possible making the whole thing worse.

Garrus ran through plans in his head, trying to find some way to salvage this situation. He rubbed his neck, exchanging a worried glance with Joker as the admiral approached them. The man paused at the airlock, "Vakarian, wasn't it? You served on the first Normandy."

"Yes, sir."

"Hell of a thing. All of this. But it's good to see that Commander Shepard has the loyalty of her crew, no matter what uniforms they might wear." Hackett looked him in the eye, pleading with the turian silently to keep Shepard safe, that this man who didn't know him could make himself vulnerable for her sake moved Garrus, who found himself grudgingly respecting the admiral, despite the hell he just put Shepard through. "We need her, so I won't mince words. Do whatever's necessary to make sure she gets through this alive."

Garrus bridled at his words a little, did this human think that he wasn't already doing his best to do just that? "With respect, admiral. I don't take orders from you. I take orders from Commander Shepard."

Then an actual smile broke out on the admiral's face. "Good."

And he was gone, back to his fleet, to prepare it against the inevitable.