Chapter 38: Restoration

We may change, but who we are does not
Our hearts cannot change their rhythm
Just as they cannot change who holds them

It took ten minutes for them to safely transport Garrus from the base to the ship. In that time, he lost consciousness three different times. Each time, Terra's heart rate slowly climbed with fear that he wouldn't wake up again. Twice it even seemed like he stopped breathing, but she was clinging tightly to him enough to feel his pulse still weakly pounding. She refused to leave his side even when Dr. Chakwas and everyone else on the ship with medical training took him down to the med bay on deck 3. Everyone but Chakwas (who clearly knew better) attempted to talk her down so she would leave them to their work only for her to snap back almost violently that she was in charge and the patient was family. She did still have the sense to stay on his uninjured left side while the doctors worked on his wounds, but she also kept both her hands tight around his talons, two fingers pressed in position to feel his erratic pulse, her breathing getting heavier every time she had to fight off the thought that he might not make it. It was only when Chakwas herself finally stepped in and asked Terra to go that she realized it was in Garrus' best interest for her to let the doctors do their job. Even when she went along with it, though, she lingered, looking back at him sadly and telling herself he would recover soon enough. If anyone could, it was him.

Besides, Cerberus had just brought her back from the dead. If she had to, she would do everything in her power to make sure they could do at least that much for him.

She wound up pacing her cabin, asking EDI for progress reports on Garrus' treatment every five minutes. As soon as the words "emergency surgery" came up, she started fretting again. She finally sat down on her bed, clutching her necklace and praying to God (and all the spirits, just to be certain) that Garrus would be OK. EDI eventually reminded her that she hadn't slept since her resurrection and she'd been through a lot, but she couldn't sleep with this hanging over her. Instead, she forced herself to do something to take her mind off the worry and headed down to the COMM room on deck 2. There wasn't enough data on the Collectors or the dossiers to truly take her mind off of it, though.

There wasn't enough data in the galaxy for that.

After what felt like days of waiting, Jacob found her in the COMM room. He approached carefully. Everyone on the ship knew about the commander's history with the turians, especially how much Garrus Vakarian in particular meant to her. He didn't want to be the one to tell her this. He wasn't even sure how to. But someone had to. So he stepped in. "Shepard."

She acknowledged him but didn't look at him, still clutching her necklace.

"The docs did what they could for Garrus…but he took a bad hit."

Yeah, she had seen. She had hoped Cerberus, with all its resources, would be able to fix it even from here. If they let anything happen to her turian, they were going to regret having brought her back.

Jacob sighed. "They made some corrections with the emergency surgery and a few cybernetics, but—"

That was when the door opened. "Terra."

Terra reacted now. She turned on the spot to face the door, hope returning at the sound of his voice.

Garrus stood there, like nothing had happened. His armor was broken at the collar, the lower right side of his face was covered by a bandage, and what was visible of his lower right side was riddled with scars. But he was alright just the same.

Jacob smirked. "He's a tough one. I didn't think he'd be back on his feet for days."

Terra shook her head. "This turian is special."

"Oh, stop," Garrus smirked. Then the smirk set off a twinge of pain and he decided it was best to save the snarky responses for later. "No one would give me a mirror, by the way. How bad is it?"

Terra cocked her head, eying him sarcastically. "How bad is what?"

"Very funny."

"It's just a few scars. I kind of like it."

He did his best not to smile while his face was still struggling to stay in one piece. "You would."

"Well, I hear some women find it attractive."

"Yeah, but most of those women are krogan."

She laughed. It felt good to do that again. When Jacob left the room with a quick salute, though, the past 24 hours seemed to cave in on her at once. The second the door closed, she found herself rushing over to hug her turian again, careful to lean on his left side. "I was so worried."

He simply held onto her, like he hadn't been able to for two years. "…I left you there…"

"No," she quickly started reassuring him, leaning back to meet his eyes and show him how much she meant it, "I told you to."

He just looked at her, that day flashing through his mind again, closely followed by the nightmare that had been the following two months. Now she was here. "…how? How are you back? They said they had footage of you getting spaced."

She sighed. "Cerberus. They brought me back somehow."

He flinched back. He'd noticed the Cerberus seals on Jacob and Miranda's uniforms, but he hadn't thought… "Cerberus did that? For you? I'd think you'd be the last person they'd want running around."

"Yeah, well, I'm also the only person who's seen and fought the Reapers, who are now sending the Collectors to abduct entire human colonies. Their boss didn't think I should go down so easily."

He agreed with that much, but he still didn't like this. Turian honor and human ideals mixed together could lead to some pretty serious implications in a life debt, especially one of this magnitude. He didn't like the idea of Cerberus using that to leverage his human. He knew that she wouldn't let them, that her own beliefs in galactic unity would never cow to their supremacist machinations, but…oh, spirits, what if they'd done something to her when they were restoring her? "Are you sure you're OK? They didn't—"

"No," she assured him, "no, I'm fine. Soon as I get the chance, I'm having Chakwas scan me just to make sure. They had to put in some cybernetics to keep me functioning, but I don't feel any different." She smiled. "It helps to have you back."

He smiled softly (that much was blissfully pain-free), taking her hand. But when he did, something occurred to him. For her, they'd been an item just a couple days ago. For him, he'd been struggling to move on for two years. How do you come back from that? Were they just supposed to pick up where they left off like nothing happened? Oh. Oh no. How could he tell her now that they were mates? He finally drew back, hoping she wouldn't be offended by how he let go of her hand. "I, uh…I should probably take some time to…process a few things, get settled in by the batteries."

She nodded as he turned to leave the room. "Right. You get to work, I'll see you when we get back."

Hearing that, he immediately stopped dead in his tracks and blocked the door from closing. "When you what?!" he exclaimed, leaning around the door to give her a look of sheer incredulity.

She winced. "We have to go back to Omega. There's a salarian scientist there who can help us with the mission."

He quickly stepped back in the doorway. "And you think I'm letting you go back there without me?"

She glared at him. "Garrus, you're still in recovery from a shot that nearly killed you and half that station wants you dead."

"Yeah, and you're still in recovery from a shot that did kill you. Besides, most of the people out to get me don't even know what I look like."

"If I may," EDI cut in, "reports currently being passed around the mercenary bands indicate they seem to believe Archangel is dead."

Garrus would ask who that was later. Right now, he simply gave Terra a look to show he had her in checkmate.

He really did. She groaned. "Fine. But I'm still not letting you out of my sight."

"Good to know you still care, Terra."

She smirked as she walked past him. "About you? How could I not?"

He watched her go, still smiling softly to himself. She really hadn't changed. He was starting to feel like himself again, knowing that he had her back.

Cerberus had come to their senses about the supply requirements involved in having a turian onboard and were currently requisitioning dextro-grade rations and medi-gel. While they were on Omega, they were limited to what they had salvaged from Garrus' base (and Terra was definitely demanding the full story behind his recent exploits later), but Terra had enough faith in him given his history with operating on limited supplies that she figured they could make it work in the meantime. Jacob stayed behind to finish taking stock on the armory, so Miranda and Garrus followed Terra off the ship and towards their destination.

"Who exactly are we looking for?" Garrus asked as they started making their way past Afterlife to the tenements, "I might know something about him that wasn't in his file."

"Salarian geneticist," Terra answered, flashing the dossier on her omni-tool briefly, "Name's Mordin Solus."

Garrus took a second to remember where he'd heard that name. "Right. Former STG. Opened a clinic here not long ago."

"He might be able to help us get an edge on the Collectors if we can convince himself to help. We just gotta reach his clinic in the Gozu District."

Garrus outright stopped moving when he heard that, though he did catch himself quickly. "Uh, Terra? Now's probably too late to warn you, but—"

He didn't need to. She turned a corner out of the tenements and saw the door to the Gozu District closed off. By a quarantine. …crap.

"I told you to get lost, lady!" a turian standing guard at the door was snapping at a woman who was glaring at him, "There's a plague! No one goes in or out!"

"I'm human, you moron!" the woman snapped back, "Humans can't get the plague! Now let me in before looters get to my house!"

"This thing affects every other race out there! We're not taking any chances! I'm doing you a favor, the vorcha and the Blue Suns are killing every human they find!"

Terra turned to Garrus with a look of concern.

He sighed. "—but that."

Terra saw a lot of problems with this situation, but she elected to address them one at a time. If humans were really immune, there was nothing stopping her from going in, which meant the first obstacle was the guard blocking entry. That much she could handle. She quickly stepped in. "I need to get in there and find Mordin Solus."

"The doctor?" the guard responded, "I appreciate what he's trying to do, but we're not taking any risks. I'm under orders to hold here until this thing takes care of itself."

Omega was that cold? What was she saying, of course they were. She set aside her abhorrence for now, though, focusing on standing her ground. "Or you could let me get the doctor to fix it for you. I'm not letting a bunch of scavengers get in my way."

He shrugged. "Your funeral."

"Wait, you're stopping me but not them?!" the human woman demanded.

"You don't have a grenade launcher, lady. Get lost."

Well, that was one problem solved. On to the next.

"Let's go," Garrus said as they regrouped to head in.

That being the next. "Yeah, I don't think so," Terra quickly cut him off, "I've just had enough time waiting on you in the med bay to last a lifetime."

"Terra, if you need me, I'm not letting a cough slow me down."

"And I'm not risking your life if there's an alternative—like, say, another squad member who happens to be immune to the plague—waiting on the ship!"

He folded his arms at her. "I thought you weren't letting me out of your sight."

This problem, unfortunately, didn't have a clear solution. Terra had long ago learned that any argument between them would only give when one of them realized the other was right, they were both too stubborn to surrender. But, in this instance, they were technically both right. Because they both couldn't stand the thought of leaving the other's side after so nearly losing them forever. She finally realized there was no talking him down from this and groaned. "Alright, but stay close." She was tempted to have him double back for some breathing gear, but the ship still didn't have any turian gear stocked and his helmet's respirator function had been damaged during the siege. She was just going to have to watch him and hope for the best.

If only you could shoot disease. She certainly had the aim for it.

At first, it was a simple "go in and shoot everything" kind of mission, which was right up their alley. Then they started seeing the telltale signs of plague—bodies, abandoned houses, the stench of stale air and sickness. The burning corpses in the road definitely didn't help that.

"Ugh," Miranda shook her head, "This isn't bothering either of you?"

Terra was bothered, actually, the scent of burning flesh all too familiar from the raid, but having Garrus right there to lean on made the difference she needed.

Garrus, on the other hand, shrugged it off. "Over the years, I've grown used to the smell of burning bodies." Then he realized what he'd just said when Terra and Miranda both looked at him. "…that's probably a bad sign, isn't it?"

Terra simply kept scanning the area. No more signs of hostility, but there was one sign of life. She rushed over to check on the batarian slumped against a nearby wall.

The batarian in question immediately looked at her and snarled. "Human. Bad enough you release this plague on us. Now you don't even have the courtesy to wait until I die before coming to steal my possessions."

She waved off the words, focused on looking him over. He was awfully weak, riddled with symptoms that it hurt to even look at. "Are you OK?" She started to—

"Get away from me!" he snapped, drawing a gun and making her flinch back, "I hope the vorcha kill you all. If only I had the strength to…I hope—" He started curling up with spastic coughs.

She quickly pulled out a medi-gel pack. "Hey! Stay with me! This won't cure the plague, but it might help."

It did. In a minute, he was back on his feet. "I…thank you."

She nodded. "Just wait here. I'm headed to Mordin's clinic, I'll send someone back for you." She turned to get back to hurrying in that direction when she noticed the astonished way Garrus was looking at her. "What?"

"Nothing," he said, "It's just…I never thought I'd see show that much mercy for a batarian."

Oh. Right. To be honest, she hadn't been thinking of people based on their species in years. She'd only ever seen the bad side of the batarians—Mindoir, Elysium, Terra Nova—but she didn't hold that against their entire race. As always, she was only out to help as many people as she could. Which was why they were here. She finally set the thoughts aside to head back to the mission, leading them down the passages in the direction of Mordin's clinic. It was only when they finished the next firefight that she realized something was wrong.

"Looks like we're in vorcha territory now," she observed, "We'll have to—" She stopped when she turned to checked the squad for injuries and noticed Garrus leaning against the wall. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he answered a bit too quickly, "I…is it hot in here or it just—" That's when he started coughing. "…oh…that's not good."

Naturally, Terra was at his side in his second, though there wasn't really anything she could do in this situation. "You couldn't have just gone back to the ship?! You'd better hope Mordin's got a cure!"

"You're angry when you're worried…" he shook his head at her even as he leaned on her to ease the way the room was spinning.

She kept leading them forward, checking Garrus as best she could every few steps. He'd been affected alarmingly fast. Luckily, she and Miranda really did seem to be immune, and Garrus' symptoms relaxed the next time a fight broke out and got the turian adrenaline pumping. He wasn't too bad yet, but she couldn't help but notice how his aim was off—a slight difference no one else would pick up on but more than enough to let her know he was worse than he was letting on. Which, in turn, was more than enough to get her to move a bit faster. She was relieved beyond words when they finally came in sight of the clinic, pushing her way past the mechs stationed at the front door and past the reception desk to the treatment room.

There stood a salarian with a few scars of his own and a broken horn.

She figured it was a safe bet this was the guy they were looking for. "Professor Mordin Solus?"

The salarian took a moment to size them up. His immediate response was to perform a medical scan and then, abruptly and dispassionately, jab a needle in Garrus' arm. "Turian physiology resilient. Simple immunobooster. Will be fine."

Garrus eyed the doctor warily, but the dizziness was wearing off already, so he stayed quiet.

Mordin then turned to Terra. "Now on to greetings. Human. Curious. Don't recognize you from area. No mercenary uniform. Quarantine still in effect. Here for something else. Vorcha? Crew to clean them out? Unlikely. Vorcha a symptom, not a cause."

Terra was barely keeping up with what he was saying as he rattled off an internal dialogue and fiddled with his machinery. "Uh—"

"The plague! Investigating possible use as bio-weapon? No, too many guns, not enough data equipment. Soldiers, not scientists!"

"Yes, we are, and I was kind of wanting to talk to you myself!"

He seemed to suddenly realize what he was doing and avert his attention back to her. "Ah. Yes. What can I do for you?"

"I'm Commander Terra Shepard. We're on a mission. We need your help."

"Mission? What mission? No, no, too busy. Clinic understaffed." He ducked down to sift through his supplies. "Who sent you?"

Terra hesitated to answer that one. "Uh…it's a covert and privately funded human group."

"Related to plague?" he immediately dove back into it, popping up from behind the table so fast that she jumped, "No, humans immune, human-centric interest. Spectres? Not human. Terra Firma? Too unstable. Only one option." He looked at her curiously. "Cerberus sent you. Unexpected."

She winced. "I take it you're familiar with them."

"Crossed paths on occasion. Thought they only worked with humans." He glanced at Garrus, who was now shaking off the last of the symptoms and sizing up the salarian. "Turian involvement surprising. Racial tension with humans."

"I'm not here for Cerberus," Garrus retorted, "I'm here for Terra. And this mission isn't just about human interests. We all need to work together to stop the Collectors."

Mordin took notice now. "Collectors? Interesting. Plague hitting slums is engineered. Collectors one of few groups with resources to manufacture. Our goals may be similar."

Terra couldn't help but wonder why the Collectors would want to test a plague, presumably a bio-weapon, on an Omega district. The fact it was being blamed on humans was likely part of it, given their focus on singling out humanity, but what were they really up to?

"But!" Mordin cut back in, "Must stop plague first! Already have cure, need to distribute it at environmental control center. Vorcha guarding it. …need to kill them."

Some part of Terra was groaning that nothing was ever simple, but she wasn't about to leave this entire district to collapse on itself from a sickness they could prevent. "I'll get in and deal with the vorcha."

That's when they heard the sound of vents closing down.

Garrus looked up in concern. "That wasn't a good noise."

Mordin checked his systems. "Vorcha have shut down vents. Trying to kill everyone. Need to reboot air filters before district suffocates."

Terra took the cure from his workbench. "Don't worry, doctor. We've got this. Let's move!"

It wasn't far to the environmental control center. The place was overrun with vorcha, some of which had heavy weapons on the high ground, but they were perfectly equipped for this—Miranda to wear down defenses so Terra could clear the main floor while Garrus sniped the ones up top. EDI had already taken the liberty of hacking in to the system to give them directions, so it didn't take much to reinitialize the systems. Then it was just a matter of going to the lower floors to jump-start the fans. Again, vorcha were in wait around every corner. Again, they proved no match for Commander Shepard and her crew. It wasn't easy, but it was a walk in the park compared to Ilos.

"Vents online," Mordin observed when they came back to the clinic, "Cure spreading, vorcha retreating. Well done, Shepard. Thank you."

Terra nodded. "It was the least I could do. You ready for an adventure, doctor?"

Mordin seemed to smile. "Of course. Looking forward to it."

Terra found she was looking forward to it, too. This salarian certainly knew what he was doing and his speed of thought was both impressive and amusing. She wanted a crew like this, not like Cerberus. This was what made the Normandy hers. So she started leading them all out of the Gozu District and back towards the docks.

But while Terra and Miranda were taking Mordin back to the ship, Garrus slipped away. He wouldn't get the chance to come back here anytime soon and he only had as much time as it would take them to debrief Mordin and show him to the tech lab (or possibly more, since Terra mentioned something about a message from a mercenary willing to meet them at the docking bay). Garrus moved cautiously back towards the Kima District, nonchalantly covering the golden wings etched on his arm when he passed by a few roaming mercenaries he didn't have the time or inclination to tangle with. Coming back to his base after what happened there was hard, but he did it. He tried his best not to look at the devastation or where the bodies of his teammates had fallen, focusing solely on what he'd come for. When he had it in hand, he moved with even more caution back towards the docks and to the Normandy.

He'd only opened the airlock when he found Terra glaring at him with her arms folded. "All that talk about me not letting you out of my sight and you sneak off on me?! Where'd you go?!"

He sighed. Only way out of this one was the truth. "Back to the base."

"What?! What if the mercs had gone back and started torching it or something?!"

"That's why I had to go back. …I couldn't leave this behind." He stepped aside to pull his cargo into view. His cargo being her box.

She could count on one hand the number of times in her life she'd been rendered speechless, but this topped them all. "…Garrus, you…" Utterly stunned, she knelt down to bring the box closer and open it. Everything was there. As well as her pack. The pack she'd left in her cabin on the first Normandy, still holding her sketchbook and pencil case. Holding that in her hands again nearly brought her to tears. "I thought I lost it."

He shook his head. "I couldn't leave any of this behind. …it was all I had left of you."

His reasons broke her heart, but having these things back in her hands meant far more. Far more than she could express…except one way. Finally, she put everything back in the box and closed it so she could stand up and kiss him. "Thank you."

He stood there frozen, watching her take the box up to her cabin. She had meant it as a sign of gratitude, but the gesture still made his heart warm. It was only when he was back in the battery later and felt for the first time this new Normandy taking off that he remembered some things had changed.

He had taken a few too many risks in the past two years as it was. He wasn't about to risk her.