Author's Note: Time really flies, eh? Second last chapter of this! Thank you so much for your continued support, every comment means the world. Enjoy!

CHPT10:_ASHORE

D24's become a familiar sight, one I think I might miss.

The Normandy's former and current crew stroll out towards the ship that changed each of our lives. Samara, having seen her Ardat-Yakshi daughters rebuilding, her code allowing her to keep her life. Wrex, uniting and leading the krogan clans out of the darkness, with Grunt supporting every effort. Javik, encouraging him to let old ghosts rest, to give post-war peace a chance and shed this avatar of vengeance, and become something greater.

These are just some of changes you've helped us through. The light you have given us, Shepard… is unparallel.

I'm with Tali, joining the group slowly – she's still a little hung over, and I do worry about her too. She looks around for a moment before she drops her voice into a low hum, "So, I remember some things, before I got too drunk…" She watches me freeze. "Did you… tell her?"

"No."

She folds her arms, and if I didn't know any better, I'd say she's pouting behind her mask, "I do have a tattoo, you know."

We go quiet once we rejoin the everyone, the best family in the damn galaxy, staring at the Normandy alongside you. The bright red star, in the middle of your own star system. There's brief chatter, until eventually, the former crew steps back, and the current crew begins boarding the ship. Tali and I follow Kaidan – they both go straight on, and I hover by the door way as Joker passes me.

When I look back, I see you with your forearms resting against the metal railing, like moments earlier, unmoving. Your voice is soft, but clear, even from here, "I wish you could've been here with me."

My heart hurts for you, but I know one thing: he is always with his Siha.

Aim for the brain.

A small grenade's explosion goes off and screws with my balance and my aim, so Leng's nailed once in the shoulder instead. It doesn't seem to faze him, wearing the same awful smirk as that day on the Citadel. Despite the distance, he bolts to me, wielding the same sword that took the Normandy's drell, and brings it upward in a diagonal slice.

Aim for the brain.

It hits my rifle hard, and I push it back, moving forward to headbutt him like Wrex would've; but my head isn't as hard, and the bastard is just too quick. Kai Leng just dances back, feather-light on his feet, with that awful smirk growing until I can see some bloodied teeth.

He breathes once. Twice. Thrice. Deliberately.

Aim for the brain, so you can make him suffocate.

"You stole her happiness," I hiss lowly, licking my teeth. "You stole his life."

He tuts, "How can you steal that which is already forfeit?"

I shoot again with a growl, watching the bullet soar through his elbow.

The sword drops. The metal clangs and stirs memories I sought to suppress, because I could, because I needed to be strong.

"No. Now it's fun." Words that I want to shove back down his throat. And I am angry, because he cut through Thane like he meant nothing. Nothing.

A dying drell saved the salarian councilor, and fought off one of Cerberus' hounds. The hound had the sharpest teeth and bit through his stomach, stealing the few weeks of life that drell had left. Weeks that would have been just as precious as the ones before. Moments stolen.

In a galaxy at war, this assassin stole your happiness, and his breath.

Leng picks up that same sword with his good hand, giving his wrist a twist.

But before he can raise your arm and bring the blade down, your fist slams into his throat and you grab his larynx with your fingers and squeeze. He falls onto his back, staring up at oceans that are ablaze. You say, "Rot in hell."

And you watch the light leave his eyes. As his breath is squeezed from his lungs. Until there is no reasonable doubt that he's dead.

The blood hasn't stopped rushing through my ears, dulling my hearing to the point that I can't hear my own subvocals. EDI looks at me and waits for me to meet her gaze; once I do, she nods, turning to face the numerous monitors as you sit on the Illusive Man's throne on Cronos Station. Together, we scan for anything else that might be of use for the Crucible or the war. Who knows how much we'll find – the Illusive Man sought control over the machines that dictated the lives of trillions of people for an uncountable amount of years.

And then the scream of breaking metal invasively pushes into my skull.

I turn and find Kai Leng's sword shattering in the air, like hail adrift in a storm. Your omni-tool glows like a Terran sunset, the dagger jutting out, and you drive it into his side, deep and firm. And if your expression could kill, Leng would've been dead so many times already, "That was for Thane, you son of a bitch."

Three pairs of eyes watch him drop to the floor. I hear the readying click of your handgun, and, summoned, I answer in turn with my rifle. You look up at me, eyes shining and hard, and your jaw's still wired shut. A real Siha.

You aim for the heart so there's no way back. Like I've always told you.

And I am for the brain so he can't be saved. Like I promised you.

Two bullets sing together, like the tide rushing ashore.

When I next open my eyes… I'll be staring Reapers in the face, on Earth. The final battle of our time – for the galaxy.

And from the other side of the room, a late night question, "Who am I, Garrus?"

Neither of us could sleep. You, alone in your cabin; me, in the main battery, or the crew's quarters. We were too anxious – definitely not like us – so you came up with the best solution. And that's how I discovered that your couch is very comfortable to nap on – even though you insisted you were fine with me using the other side of the bed.

Sitting up, I roll my shoulders and stare at you tucked under your bed sheets, your hair, still like fire, burning across the white pillow. And while you're under my gaze, you stare at your picture of Thane by your bedside table. A reminder of your pain and your happiness.

Semi-seriously, I ask, "Do you have a concussion?"

You release a single chuckle. I drown.

For a moment, there's no sound except for the hum of the Normandy and the aquarium pump. The koi are one of the last good, untouched reminders of Earth, before the Reapers came. But your home was Mindoir, and I wish we'd found some Mindoirian fish to add for you.

"I feel like I've lived so many lives," you start, sitting up. You raise a hand and run it through your messy hair. Your shoulders curve inward in a way I don't see when you're out on the field – a vulnerability that you only show those you implicitly trust. "A kid losing her Father to cancer and how it broke her Mother, Mindoir and the raiders, Elysium and the batarian waves, Saren and the geth… Suffocating to death in space… Cerberus and the Collectors, and now this. Who am I, after all of that?"

As you finish speaking, you stare at me, straight in the eyes. Ocean to sky. In another life, in a memory, I hear Thane, "Oceans staring into darkness. I'm drowning."

And I've been drowning for so, so long.

I stand and cross the distance, moving to sit beside you on the edge of the bed. "You are a lot of things to a lot of people, and to yourself – and that's okay. As long as you remember all the parts you used to be, and who you want to be, that's okay. I believe in you – the galaxy believes in you."

You remain silent.

"You are a hero. The first human Spectre. A Commander. A soldier. A human colonist. Shepard. Jane. My best friend."

You breathe in and out exactly three times while I can't get any oxygen in, like he couldn't.

My hands find the soft edges of your face, "You are his Siha."

You stare at me. I drown again, and again, and again.

There's an almost overwhelming urge to press my forehead to yours, but I ignore it. Instead, I leave my hands there for a few more moments, enjoying the warmth, before letting them fall away and into my lap. Something briefly crosses your face, like a sudden realisation, or a sparked curiosity.

And then, you ask, "Garrus… What did you want to say to me after the war?"

"You'll find out after we win."

"And if there is no victory?"

I shook my head, "You promised me."

You exhale hard through your nose, resigned to this fact. I promised you Kai Leng's brain, and aimed for it, and shattered it – and you've promised me victory, survival, and to talk afterward. Then you smile at me, shuffling back wholly under the sheets to try and rest again, "We've been through a hell of a storm. I'm glad you've grounded me through it all, staying by my side."

"I've got your six."

And I'm always going to, Shepard. Because you deserve it. Because I promised myself. Because I promised Thane.

"Get some rest, Shepard. We've got a big fight ahead of us. I'll be here."

For a moment, I count the stars on the bridge of your nose again, before standing and returning to your very comfy couch. And as I lie down again, fringe pushing into the back padding, I count each breath you take, a quiet comfort at the edge of extinction.

And just before I fall asleep, I wonder how often you did that for Thane too.