Chapter 58: Forthcoming

No matter the worlds between us
No matter how life intervenes
No matter how long or how dark
We will still feel each other's hearts
And meet once again in our dreams

January 7, 2186…

It seemed to Garrus like everything was slow going these days. Preparing the invasion protocols was progressing at a moderate rate, no sign was received of any motions to help Terra, and there was no word of if the salarians' research on Corpalis had finally yielded any results. He felt like he was just waiting for one of those fronts to completely deteriorate. If he wasn't getting to technically talk to Terra about once a week, he'd be losing it.

"Don't you get dizzy doing that?"

He stopped what he was doing when he realized Solana had caught him pacing in the living room. "I was just…thinking."

She folded her arms at him. "Uh-huh."

He shook his head. "You don't have to babysit me, Sol."

"And yet here we are."

He groaned, realizing she was about to corner him, and started making his way outside.

She followed him, of course. "You don't have to just stand around feeling sorry for yourself. Sooner or later, you're going to have to figure out who you are without her."

"We're mated, Sol. I'm not supposed to be without her!"

"Well, she realizes that as much as you and I do, and yet she still left. Do you see her going stir crazy?"

"I don't see it because I'm not there, but yes, it turns out she is."

Solana sighed, seeing his point. "Look, I'm not saying you shouldn't be upset, I'm just saying—" She stopped in her tracks when she realized he had. Confused, she followed his gaze.

Their mother was standing behind the house, halfway between the area Garrus had once used as a shooting range and the patch Terra had cordoned off for her garden. She stood there in silence, her back to them, barely even moving.

Not sure what to make of this, Garrus moved in, his sister following close behind. "Mom?"

She sighed. "I can see why you all spent so much time out here. It's beautiful on days like this." She cast a brief glance up at the sky. "Easier to think."

He'd been back home long enough to see the patterns in her degeneration. He could tell it was indeed easier on her out here. He was hesitant to risk interrupting that, a sentiment he noticed Solana definitely shared.

"…you know we're running out of time."

Garrus shook his head. "Mom, you shouldn't—"

"No," she asserted, "I need to say this while I'm thinking clearly." She faced him. "I know you tried everything you could for me. I'm grateful. It's just my time."

"It's not yet—!"

"But it doesn't have to be everyone else's. Try half as hard for the rest of Palaven and they'll make it. I believe in you."

It meant a lot to hear her say that, but that didn't change the fact that it hurt to think of it that way.

She thought otherwise, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt to think of other things. Her gaze drifted off to the side, to the garden that had once belonged to a lost human girl. "I tried tending some of it for her, you know. After she left. I never got it to grow like she did, but it flowered on its own. Beautifully." She kept her eyes on the soil, saddened at the sight of it now. "I didn't get to be to her what I should've. It was always the two of you who gave her a family. Castis was never there to and I—"

"That's not true," Solana stepped in, "She knows you tried. It meant enough that you were there at all after what she'd been through. You supported her, and she looked up to you. She still does."

"…you would know. I just wish I'd gotten to tell her myself before now."

Garrus had to do something now. He wasn't such an active artist as Terra was and didn't constantly keep a sketchbook with him, but his hands had been idle enough the past two months for him to resort to keeping the basics in his pack just in case. This qualified. "Write it down then. I'll make sure she sees it."

His mother took the implements in hand. Instead of setting to work immediately, though, she smiled weakly to her son. "You love her."

He had made that pretty obvious, but hearing her say it still struck him. "More than anything."

She found a bit more strength in the conviction behind his statement. She made use of it. "Prove it. Hold onto her."

He knew why she was telling him this. He understood. He just wised it wasn't necessary. Not sure how to react, he simply nodded and took the words to heart.

She then turned to Solana. "And you be sure to find someone to love as well."

Solana tried to smile. "I'll do my best."

Content with their promises, she stepped off to the side and sat down to start writing out her final words to her adopted daughter.

Solana watched her. "She's in the final stage. She doesn't have very long now."

Garrus had been trying so hard to push aside that thought, so hard to convince himself that it wasn't true and there was still a chance. But he had seen her failing, going far too long without a promise of treatment from the salarians that was anywhere close to definite. They'd run out of options. All they had was her force of will. Clearly, she had finally realized it wasn't enough, no matter how strong she was. The thought of the woman who'd raised him succumbing like this was unspeakable…which he was finding all too often lately just meant it was more likely true.

Solana was facing the same thought, fighting how her hands shook and her sub-vocals keened as it came over her. "I still don't know what to do."

Garrus had never in his life had to comfort Solana, at least not like he had for Terra. Still, he was her brother, so he stepped in now, taking her hand and lending her some of the strength that had been failing him. "Sometimes there's nothing we can do…but to stand our ground."

They both tried to hold onto this. They both succeeded for all of three hours. That night, when their mother collapsed again, she began to struggle just to breathe. Castis finally determined there was nothing for it but to take her to the hospital.

"Castis, you don't have to—" she started to argue.

He simply supported her all the way out of the house. "I made a vow to stand with you through anything. I'm keeping it."

Even through the haze of denial that this wasn't a sign of the end, Garrus took the time to admire his father's determination and love. He knew what it was like to be mated now, if not what it was like to be outright bonded, so he knew what it was like to see his mate struggling and sympathized with the plight of being unable to save them. None of this was fair.

But nothing in love come easy.

As he slumped into bed that night, feeling more helpless than ever, he tried to think of a way to circumvent this, something he could do to change what was about to happen. When he finally came up empty, his thoughts turned to the words his mother had left him with that he hoped wouldn't be the last she truly gave him—"Prove it. Hold onto her." He had every intention of holding onto Terra as long as he could, but he found a deeper meaning in the words now.

He might not be able to help his mother overcome this uphill battle. But Terra…for Terra, he would summit any height.

February 21, 2186…

When Terra heard chatter in the hallway outside her "cell," she didn't think much of it. When she realized one of the voices she was hearing was Garrus', she thought she was going crazy. She finally went over to press her ear to the door.

"…she's not supposed to have visitors." That was definitely James.

"She's also not supposed to be contacting anyone, and yet here we are." And that was definitely Garrus!

Terra didn't give herself a chance to think about what she was doing before she had opened the door.

Garrus immediately noticed. She wasn't sure how he managed to contain the joy obviously bursting in his eyes at the sight of her. Quite frankly, neither was he. "Shepard."

James turned to her. "Look, I know you two have been talking for those top-secret turian conferences or whatever, but this—"

"You can trust him, Vega," Terra said, "If you get any trouble for it, I'll say you weren't there when he showed up and take the heat for it myself. It's not like they can do much worse."

James took a moment to consider. He seemed to realize it was best not to waste time arguing about it, though. With a quick glance around to make sure no one noticed, he turned to guard the hall rather than the door. "I can get you five minutes."

"Ten!"

"Five!"

Terra rolled her eyes, hurrying Garrus into her room.

The second they were behind closed doors, they jumped into each other's arms and kissed.

Terra was reluctant to separate after they'd been unable to do this for four months, but she had to ask. "How did you pull this off?"

He smirked. "I needed to see you. I told Fedorian I had some data you needed to look over that I couldn't send through monitored communications, so he and Anderson pulled some strings. The real trouble was Solana. She was awfully worried I was trying to run away again."

She smirked back. "Now why would she ever think that?"

He hesitated to answer. So much so that he stiffened, his hands drifting down from where they held her.

She always knew when something was bothering him. This one was clearly so big she couldn't afford to ignore it. "…Garrus, what's wrong?"

With a soft, resigned sigh, he drew her over to the bed and sat down with her. He didn't want to say it, didn't want to face what had happened, but he had come all this way to tell her in person and she deserved to hear it. So he forced himself to speak up. "It's Mom."

Those two words were like a dagger through her heart. There was only one thing it could mean now. "…no…"

He couldn't even look at her as the truth began to cloud the room. All they had done had been for nothing in the end. They'd found out too late that she had been too far gone where treatment was concerned for months. In a way, that made it easier for him to accept that this wasn't a failure on his part. But now it felt like he'd been wasting time he could've spent making the most of how long they'd had left. Either way…she was gone…and he was still helpless.

Perhaps that was part of why he had come to see Terra. Because he had known she would feel the same way. As the news of their loss sunk in, she descended into tears, eventually so deep that he had to hold her. Though, for once, he had no strength to lend her to fight it off. For once, he was just as deep in it and they were simply keeping each other steady in a flood of grief. "I'm so sorry." The words were inelegant, inadequate, but true all the same. "And I'm sorry I wasn't there."

"Don't," he quickly retorted, "It's probably better you weren't."

She disagreed, but she knew why he said it. What good would it have done for her to sit there with them and watch it end? Why should she have to endure that? None of them should've had to.

He sighed. "Is this what it was like for you? After Mindoir?"

Even for a poet of her caliber, there were no words she could string together to console him. She knew because she had been there. She could only answer him. "That was worse…but yeah."

Some part of him scoffed at the irony that this would wind up being added to the list of things they had shared, that the tragedy that her brought her to him in the first place would be reflected like this… He finally pulled away from her and reached into his pocket. "She knew she was running out of time, so she, uh…she wrote this for you."

Terra reluctantly took the note from his hands and opened it.

Terra,
I don't know if Garrus ever told you, but I was the one who suggested we take you in. When he called me and Castis that day and told us what had happened to you and how you were willing to stand on your own after it…I just knew you deserved a place with us. I didn't know if we could do anything to help you recover from such a tremendous misfortune, but I knew we needed to try. So I accepted you, and Garrus, Solana, and Castis did the same.
I knew when we met that you were special. I couldn't have guessed what you would become, but I knew you would be great. Someone strong enough to survive so much would have to be. I admired your resilience and determination, your courage and ingenuity. In a way, I came to think of you as my own. I know I never said so, but I saw you as my daughter.
Losing you hurt like losing a part of myself. That was how I knew that, human or turian or both, you were my daughter. I suppose I never tried to act like it because I knew how much your own mother meant to you and how badly you were scarred by losing her. But I hope you still knew that I cared, that I worried when you were gone and rejoiced when you returned, that the house seemed a lot emptier without you in it. And I hope you know you were part of my family.
I hope you also know that I never saw my son half as happy as I have when he was with you. You two belong together. Don't ever let anything try to tell you otherwise. And though I won't live to see it, when the time comes that you stand as mates and face the next step, whatever it may be, know that I will in that moment finally, officially, and proudly claim you as a daughter.
I pray to all the spirits that the future will be kind to you. I will meet you on the other side.
- Your mother (if you'll have me)

Terra was already crying when she started reading. By the time she finished, it was hard to see the writing past the water in her eyes. She finally curled up on the bed, clutching the letter against her chest and knowing she wouldn't be able to let go of it.

Still beside her, Garrus shook his head. "Does it make me horrible person that I'm glad it's over?"

"That she isn't suffering anymore, our family doesn't have to stand by, and she isn't going to have to witness the Reapers' arrival? No. …not unless we both are."

Garrus clung to the assurance before again clinging to her. They sat there in silence, mourning together, for well beyond five minutes. Terra figured Anderson must have authorized Garrus and stepped in to make sure they weren't interrupted. She felt guilty that he was helping them out when they weren't actually talking shop about Palaven's defenses, but she knew he would understand that this was just as important.

All the same, time still passed. Terra finally, sadly, let him go. "I wish you could stay."

He nodded. "So do I. But my people need me."

"Yeah. Mine do, too." She looked around. "Though they have a more confined way of showing it."

"I don't know. I've been feeling kind of trapped."

She understood why things would be so hard on him. She wished she could alleviate that, but there wasn't much she could do from here. Except…maybe… Coming up with an idea, she retrieved her sketchbook, located the drawing she wanted, tore it out carefully, and handed it to Garrus. "Give that a glance when you need an escape."

He looked at the drawing. It was a perfect horizon of Earth (she did have a good view of it from this room) to match the one of Palaven he had been carrying for nearly 16 years now. He smiled as he slipped it carefully into his pocket next to that other drawing. Then he took something else out. "Here. Since I'm apparently going to miss your birthday again."

She couldn't help but smile as she took the small, carefully wrapped box. "Do I open it now or then?"

He smirked. "I'd kind of like to see it happen, so now's good."

So she opened it. Inside was a batch of pencils to replenish her dwindling supply, colors included (which was something, since finding normal ones in a predominantly digital society was rare enough). But the real present was what they were wrapped up in. As if he had known she was going to do essentially the same thing, he had made rare use of her lessons from all those years ago and drawn her a companion for the demael flower sketch that was pinned inside the cover of her sketchbook…this time a jura flower. "How did you know about—?"

"Solana used one during your funeral," he explained, "I could tell it was important to you two but she never said why. I just thought you could use the reminder that we're both still looking out for you."

She smiled at the sentiment. She smiled more to think of how she and Solana had weaved through foliage dusted with those flowers the night they snuck out to the falls. It was nice to think of the Palaven bloom as a symbol of her bond to her adopted sister. One now represented by her mate's hand. So it was as much from gratitude as from affection when Terra gave him another kiss, making this one last, and then sent him on his way. "You'd better go home before you get us all in trouble. …take care of your dad and Solana. And Palaven. For me."

Garrus agreed. "Everything in my power." He clutched her hand while he could. "I love you."

She knew it to the depths of her soul by now, but she clung to the words and returned them all the same. "I love you. Always."

She was as sad to see him leave as he was to go. She consoled herself by pinning her present in the back cover of her sketchbook and immediately setting to work on a new drawing with her full range of color. It distracted her from the devastation creeping inside her beneath the happiness of simply getting to see him again. At least for a while. By the time she turned in for the night, that flare of elation had faded and the mourning shrouded her completely. She faced it with the letter her late adopted mother had left for her and dreamed of what both her families—both her mothers—meant to her.

When she woke up the next morning, the whole visit seemed like just another bittersweet dream. Like Garrus was still out of her reach but maybe his mother was in recovery. It was only when she opened her sketchbook and found the jura flower sketch still inside the back cover that she took a moment before the grief could crawl back into focus to wistfully smile and dare to ponder when she would see her turian again.

March 26, 2186…

The Vakarian household had been far too solemn this past month. Not just because of Terra's incarceration or the impending Reaper invasion. Even after the initial grief-stricken silence had faded, all three of them still felt a little lost, like the house was empty if they weren't all there. Castis had predictably been hit hardest by his mate's death, isolating himself wordlessly for three days before quietly accepted his duty as a father to be there for his children as they struggled to accept the loss. He still seemed broken, like a part of himself had died along with her. Garrus knew what that felt like from spending two years thinking Terra was gone for good, so he had quietly placed upon himself the duty of being there for his father as he struggled on his own. The end result was that Garrus, Solana, and Castis were holding onto each other while they could and slowly, very slowly coming to terms with the fact that the matriarch of the family was gone.

A week ago, Garrus had finally begun to drag himself towards some measure of acceptance, handling the rest by throwing himself into work. He was still the one in charge of organizing the countermeasures for the Reapers, however sparse and minimal they might end up being. He told himself it was no different from calibrating the Normandy's guns, that a 0.01% change could save 100 lives in the heat of battle. He didn't listen to the part of himself that retorted how Sovereign had torn through the Citadel and no amount of preparation could defend against 1000 of those monstrosities.

He pushed through it. He'd promised Terra to do everything in his power to keep Palaven safe. His mother had wanted him to try. His people needed him to. So he was going to ignore the nagging feeling of futility and take action while they still had a change to do so.

Today, however, was different. Today, he had another kind of action to take. His mother had also wanted him to prove his feelings for Terra. Though he had certainly done that by now, he had a way of cementing it in mind. So 16 years later, he returned to the place where he and Solana had bought Terra's necklace and, like with the drawing he'd given as her birthday present, made a twin. He'd be carrying it for a long time, but he was willing to handle that. It would be another reminder that she was coming back to him.

Rather than chasing down stockpiles to fortify and evacuation procedures to arrange, he sat at the edge of Cipritine and watched the horizon, occasionally comparing it to the sketch still folded in his pocket. The Reapers might come, but this was one thing they couldn't tarnish. Of that much, he could safely be certain.

He was still sitting there, dwelling on those contemplations, when he was contacted by the primarch. Apparently, his "task force" could take it from here on Palaven and they needed people on the garrisons on Menae and Nanus. Including him. He didn't like to consider leaving his father and sister to fend for themselves when the time came, but if they could safeguard the moons enough to fend off any invaders from even touching down on Palaven, it would buy time for more evacuations and his family would be safer. So he took the offer and headed straight back home to prepare for his first deployment with the turian military in 15 years.

At this point, everything he owned, at least everything worth carrying, fit in his pack, so he was able to simply grab his gear and move out. He did stop to check his sniper rifle, though. It was the same weapon that had gotten him through the siege on Omega, so he knew it would serve him well. He'd been tending it habitually for years…watching Terra's back with it. As he clutched it tightly and then holstered it, he told himself it would be protecting more than just Terra now. It would be protecting her family and her adopted planet. He had no intention of letting her down.

"And you said you weren't running away again," Solana commented as he prepared to leave.

"I'm not," Garrus assured her, "I'll be less than an hour's flight away. You can call me anytime you want."

She didn't say anything. She didn't have to. It was pretty clear she knew he had to do this but still didn't like it.

He finally sat down beside her. "Listen to me. I don't know how much time we have now, so I need you to be ready. The second you hear so much as a rumor of giant sentient dreadnoughts headed into the Crest, you take Dad and run for the evac shuttles. If you can save anyone else, great, but don't do anything stupid or heroic. You can't fight them head-on. You get out and come find me and Terra. Promise me."

She nodded. "We'll try. But you need to promise me you won't do anything stupid and heroic either."

He smirked. "That worried about me, are you?"

"No, but Terra would break my spine in half if you got killed and I didn't at least try to talk you out of it."

He laughed. "I love you, too, sis."

She laughed back. She had to admit it felt nice to do that again, even like this.

He finally laid his head on hers. "I'll see you when this is over."

She returned the gesture. "Stay safe."

When Garrus finished saying goodbye to Solana and turned to go, he found his father waiting at the door. "Coming to see me off?"

Castis simply followed him outside. "And to wish you luck."

"Since when do you believe in luck?"

"I think we've both seen a lot of impossible things in our time."

Garrus had to agree with that.

Castis looked at him for a moment. "I mean it. Be careful out there. When this all starts, it won't be just any war."

"…I know. You and Solana need to look out for each other."

He nodded. "And you need to stand with Terra."

Garrus couldn't help but smile. "That's who I am."

Castis found himself smiling in return. "Since the day you met her. She changed us all."

"She does that to everyone."

"And you changed her. It's because we were there for her that she found the strength to defend the galaxy. Now she represents the best of both her people and ours. Proof that we need to stand together. But she needs you." The look in his eyes grew darker. "Mating isn't something you can ignore."

Garrus already knew that all too well.

"Take care of her," Castis finally said.

"I will."

So he stepped back. "Go show them what a Vakarian can do."

This day was going to echo in Garrus' memory for months. He could already tell. As he flew to Menae that night, his thoughts jumped between three different extremes.

The countdown to the Reapers' imminent coming.

What was left of his family.

…his future with Terra.