Chapter Twelve: Wrong Embrace

He felt like he had sand in his eyes. His nose scrunched at the feel of his lids moving to try and open. Liara must have laid him flat, he frowned, he didn't think there was enough room for that, but it felt good. It helped; he didn't feel so pushed inward. His breath was coming easier in this position. One mandible lifted as he tried to speak, his tongue laid limp in his mouth, and he swallowed dryly.

Blinking slow he fought against the brightness that he focused in on. What was all this light? Or was it snow, was the door opened. Close it. She had taken his armor off completely; he could feel the coolness on his legs. He tried to lift his arm to bring his hand to shield his eyes, but it was weighted down, and he grunted at the sudden feeling of immobility.

"Liara…" he rasped, and he truly did rasp. His voice sounded like two rocks scraping together and he cringed at the pain that sliced down his throat.

"Alerted: Calm down, Mr. Vakarian, you are safe. Gently: You are aboard the MSV Strontium Mule. We are just leaving the Omega Nebula to make our the trek to the Widow System. Informative: It will be six days before we are docked at the Citadel."

Confusion hit him harder than the pain in his throat. MSV what? Somehow, he found the muscles to move his head worked and he was shocked to see an elcor towering over his bed. He blinked as his eyes tried to adjust to the size of the being before he shook his head slightly and focused in on the its beady black eyes. "Where is the Normandy?"

"Curiously and alerted: The vessel crashed into Alchera, do you not remember this?"

"I know that," he sighed, "I meant the crew."

"Understandingly: They are being tended to. With regret: not all have been recovered."

He knew the loss already, but it still hurt to hear it. He didn't know what to ask. He wanted to call out for Tali and for Liara. He wanted to see Kaidan and Joker and Chakwas. Fuck he even wanted to see Adams and he barely knew the guy.

"Comfortingly: You have a visitor; I will go and inform the rest of my team that you have awakened." The elcor dipped its large head and slowly moved to turn. What exactly an elcor was doing in a medical facility was beyond him. The large gray aliens were all muscle with thick necks that sat on broad shoulders and walked on all fours. They were triple the size of the Turian. They were slow - in movement and in speech (though thankfully not as irritating as the Volus with their breath between every word) and, though he had never met one that was not intelligent, he had also never met one in any other profession that trader or merchant. They typically didn't stray too far from their homeworld. Clansmen still, even with their technology, they had no real large populations and preferred to wander even on their planet, than to settle.

"Garrus?" Tali's voice came from somewhere on the other side of the behemoth and when the elcor finally squeezed out of the room he saw her bouncing on her feet to get to him. "Oh, Garrus, you …bosh'tet!" she hit his shoulder: hard. He hissed and she put a hand down where she had connected, "Sorry, just…. Don't you dare do that again." Garrus heard the grief in her voice as it shook through her helmet, "We didn't know if you were going to make it."

We? "Liara?"

Tali looked over her shoulder and Garrus followed her gaze to see the asari asleep in a makeshift bed. It was two chairs pushed together with a hospital pillow and she had a scratchy looking blanket draped over her as she slept. "She's okay – we're okay."

"Joker?" he asked and the pain in his throat was back. It felt different, raw, choking.

"He's still with us," was all she said, and he knew that was good news – he knew it – but it wasn't great news. "Kaidan saved his life, but…they are working very hard."

He nodded. He didn't ask about Kaidan. He couldn't find the words. "Chakwas?"

"Everyone is fine," Tali quipped to him, grabbing his hand, and squeezing it. "Even Kaidan," he could always count on the quarian to pick up his unasked questions. He wondered if she would ever think about joining C-Sec, she would be a damned fine investigator. "He…. he just…isn't allowed to roam the ship."

Garrus looked to her questioningly, "Why not?"

"When they picked us up, he admitted to killing the two marines with him, what was their names?" she asked but wasn't truly wanting an answer, "This is a human ran ship making it technically fall under the Alliance and so he was put in a locked unit. When we get to the Citadel there will be a formal apprehension."

He shook his head, he was tired. Too tired to speak and she must have understood that too because she reached behind his head and maneuvered the thick pillow in a way that was accommodating and supportive without being bothersome against his crest or fringes. Tali laid her head on the side of his and she whispered softly, "I am so glad I didn't have to kick your ass, Vakarian."

Garrus fell asleep on the end of that whisper. And at first, it was deep and quiet and dark. Drugs in one's system would do that. But he felt himself having to claw his way back to consciousness every time and it was not a feeling he enjoyed. It felt like he was being buried alive and had to fight to come back. Dormant, but painful memories surfaced as he slept. Long ago shadows from battles and wars he had once been fighting. Dark hallways and bloodied walls. Wrists bound. Pain. So much pain. The sounds of his broodmates, his crew – he shuddered against them and found very little rest in their wake. It had been so long since he had nightmares. Why now? These were visions of war - happenstances of servitude - they would not break nor define.

Liara was at his side the next time he opened his eyes.

She was crying.

And when she reached up to caress his cheek, he saw her sniffle before she leaned down and laid her forehead to his own. "I know…I know you loved her..." She confessed and he felt her tears drop to his own cheeks. It stirred something horrible and painful within him. Tightly wound chords were snapping and slapping against his ribcage, "I am so sorry, Garrus."

Why? Why was she doing this? He felt anger rear its self-righteous head, he felt exposed. The drug aided nightmares he had just stumbled through and came from mixed with the hell of his reality and his eyes narrowed into slits. His mandibles pinched as his breath increased. This pain was too much. Give him back the slow crushing pressure of his insides. Bring him back the slam of beams and rubble falling against his backside – snapping his spur and marring his fringe. Give him back the grenade that took out two of his squad mates during an incursion with Batarians that had him nursing burns for two months. Physical pain he could take. He could manage. Take this. Take whatever this was and leave.

"Stop," he grunted as he felt another of her tears fall to his cheek. The wetness of it both disgusted him and drew grief.

He felt envy flicker as he reached up to trail one thumb across her cheek, looking at the wetness he collected. How easy it was for humans and asari and quarians to let their grief out. It had somewhere to go. Little droplets of starlight. He had no such relief. He keened low and pushed her slightly. He needed air. He couldn't have her this close – giving him her grief too. Fuck. His mind lapsed, he felt the panic bubble and the primal need to escape. To back against a wall like the injured whelp he was and fight. To fight and free himself from this – this…he gasped. Another tear on his cheek and it burned. It burned and took away his ability to fucking breathe!

He needed air! Spirits…

Garrus' hands came up and he grabbed her harshly by the arms. Talons dug into her and he heard her startled and pained gasp before he pushed her hard and she fell backwards. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, tubes and machine wires coming with him, and the crash of equipment filled the air as he tried to escape through the door. He needed to air. He couldn't breathe.

His body shook as he took two steps, he keened low in his throat before his hand came to grab the doorway – his body was giving up on him already. Traitor! He sagged his shoulders and slumped against the door. "I can't…" he choked as his grip tightened. He looked wildly around – people were staring. The elcor was slowly making its way back to him.

He felt the rough pull of hands on his shoulder before he twisted and slammed a body into the wall beside him. Rounding on the attacker he barely registered it was one of the nurses before another set of hands twisted against his arm. He snarled, sinking low on his haunches and ready to fight them both. Talons sliced skin and he wasn't sure where it hit but he smelt the delicious blood that seeped from the fresh wound and he shuddered. The pain in his body turning into a hum of appreciation – he was built for a fight. Everything about him was a damned weapon.

"Alerted: Mr. Vakarian," he heard a voice break, a slap, a cold sting and he tried – Spirits he tried – to find it. To look for it. He faintly made out the shape of the larger alien as it came closer, but his insides roared – he would take it down too. He knew how. He knew where to slice and bite and tear. Flesh was flesh and he was a fucking butcher against it. "Demandingly: let go of my doctor, Mr. Vakarian or we will take action to make you. Authoritatively: RN Chaplin, ready sedative."

It was a threat. He didn't hear the meaning behind the words. He just heard the threat in them. He hadn't even been registering how many people he had been fighting, but he felt the snap of bone under his talons, and it caused a satisfactory snarl to escape him when the person cried out.

"Shoot him," a strangled feminine voice bit out and Garrus dragged himself towards the words intending to make sure that threat was eliminated. "Fuck, take him down!" Fear. YES! His mandibles flexed at the taste of it. He stepped forward, his large frame colliding with something and he roared is annoyance, looking down to tear apart whatever the barrier was between him and his prey.

Grey met blue as Liara reached up and grabbed his face. Her eyes were black.

No!

"Relax, Garrus," she said softly. No. "Embrace Eternity."

He jolted to a stop so suddenly he felt off balance. His outstretch arm remained upstretched to catch himself against the doorway, but it wasn't there anymore. The Turian looked around slowly and he could barely see the smooth lines of the Presidium ward entrance. The hallway was deserted but familiar and he was glad that no one had seen him…

An elcor clambered into his view and he staggered backwards, but it faded slowly and he stared wide-eyed at the space it had been. What was going on?

"You have nowhere to be," a familiar airy voice curled around him, and he relaxed as he turned to look over his shoulder. Liara walked up to him with a soft smile, but her eyes were heavy and wary. He took in the sight of her, and he worried at the set of her jaw and the tightly constrained emotion along her features.

"Are you okay?" He asked immediately and she sighed with a gentle dip of her head.

"I am, are you?"

"I…I don't know…" Garrus would tell her honestly. "I don't know how I got here."

Liara nodded and came to a stop next to him, "I brought you here."

"Why?"

"To protect you." She answered after a small pause. There was a fear laced within those words. A slight uncertainty and she was looking into the hallway as if she was watching something truly terrifying. He followed her gaze but saw nothing.

"Oh," Garrus looked down the long hallway and then looked towards her. For a moment they stood there. Side by side in the quiet.

Voices fluttered into the space around them, "Another dose, we need to give him another one – shit! Watch his claws!"

"Admonishingly: They are called talons, Doctor Alvarez. Informative: another dose will be fine, and another in ten minutes…. Dangerous warning: if you do not sheathe your weapong Officer Finz - you will find out why my people are called 'walking tanks'."

They trailed off and he felt pressure against his limbs as if there was some kind of resistance against him, but he saw nothing. He wasn't moving, why would he feel as if he was being pulled downward?

He looked up to Liara again and she rigid. Unmoving. Back straight, fingers tightly clasped in front of her and he could tell she was avoiding looking at him, understanding dawned and he bitterly acknowledged the truth that had taken him too long to figure out, "You melded with my mind."

At his words her body shivered, and fear flashed immediately to her eyes. She swallowed and he followed the movement with his eyes as she nodded, "You are dangerous. They were not going to be able to sedate you in that state. Guns were drawn." Liara sighed and he watched her age right in front of him. Gone was the young Doctor who they had rescued, the one who seemed too eager and too spellbound by Shepard. Instead, he saw the weight of a lifespan that already doubled his own – more so, actually. "It was necessary to…"

"Get out of my head," he seethed. Anger unburdened clawed its way up his spine.

She turned to look at him sharply, brows furrowing, "I cannot do that, yet."

Garrus shook his head and turned to her, he stalked the half step of distance and glowered down at her, "I did not consent to this," he whispered darkly. The Turians were a proud and protective species. This was a consensual acceptance and should only be done if given permission. Asari knew this. Too many times they had found dead maidans as the primal instincts of his brood had snarled to life by the action. It had taken centuries for the two species to come to agreement on laws on this to ensure that it was corrected.

She snapped defensively, "Turians are all stoic, you are still very much your species."

Garrus' growl caused her to step back. She turned her shoulders completely to him and he warned, "Get out of my head, Liara."

"You were about to kill the woman," she said softly, fearfully. And he barely registered the desperation in her voice – in her excuse.

That's all it was. An excuse. She had entered his mind. He had no defenses here. He knew what the asari could do. Where they could go. What they saw when they melded. Nothing was held back; it didn't matter how long the connection was or how short – every part of his memories and core beliefs laid open and raw and effectively absorbing into her mind. Every emotion. Every feeling. Every question. She would know everything. Could see everything.

"I don't care, let me kill them then, let them kill me, I don't care…this is…" he felt his anger shift to terror as the memories he had never shared with anyone surfaced. One by one like he was giving them to her and he reached out as if he was trying to grab them back. "Stop this…" he told her and looked at her, finding her eyes wide with horror and knew it was to late. She saw everything.

She was taking it all.

"Garrus…"

He screamed then, "GET OUT OF MY MIND!"

And the weight of the world came crashing down on him, his eyes opened to the ceiling above him and people around him. Immediately he stopped struggling when he registered the elcor beside him and felt its large hand heavy on his chest.

"Gently: easy, Mr. Vakarian, you are safe here."

He wanted to scoff, but his body too damaged to have been able to move to begin with was vibrating with the pain of his injuries and he shivered as he felt the sedative slowly creeping throughout his veins. He looked to the elcor and keened softly, apologetically as his eyes landed on the large gash against its massive shoulder.

"Forgivingly: you have been through much, we understand, now rest."

Garrus followed the order like the soldier he was. Solider. He felt himself shrivel away from the word.

Liara had not come back to see him.

And he was thankful for it.

It had taken forty-eight hours for the elcor to decide he could have his restraints removed. The rest of the medical staff were wary of him. Walking on tiptoe and whispering outside his door, but never speaking when they were actually in the room with him. He could understand that. He respected their mistrust. He had seen the male human in the cast and the female one who had his talon marks against her neck. He wondered why they didn't heal themselves properly, a few doses of medi-gel would fix both. When he asked the elcor that it had simply said that the patients of the Normandy were their priority.

Supplies were not unlimited.

"I don't like doctors," he had told the elcor, "Bad memories…"

"Apprehensively: medical or science?"

"Both, I think."

"Understandingly: it is not an uncommon fear, Mr. Vakarian. You are safe here."

"I was safe on the Normandy too – and look where we're at, Doc."

"Regretfully: you are correct, I will make sure to keep you as safe as I can then."

He liked the doc. It had taken four full days before he has asked it's name. Why it had taken him this long, he didn't know. Yes he did. It was because he had been referring to it as 'it' and 'the elcor' in his mind. Deep taught beliefs of their kind laid just beneath the surface of the exchange here and he would forever remain locked beneath them if he didn't make the conscious choice to confirm them. When it walked slowly into his room he turned to catch its dark gaze. Trying desperately to ignore the large bandage that covered the wound he had caused. He had apologized before and had been dismissed because the doctor already knew he was sorry.

"What is your name?"

If he could actually read the emotions passed along the strange slope of its features, with a mouth that was hidden behind a long lip, he would have known it had smiled at the question. It was hard to read. "Encouragingly: My name is Vondza, or Doctor Regalmz – it does not matter which you choose to call me. Though 'Doc' is working just fine."

"I have never seen an elcor doctor," Garrus would say, shocked that the elcor was a female. It sounded almost like the males of its species. Low, monotoned and deadpanned. It was the reason why they emphasized the emotion in their speech. They had no influx in vocals. He swept a curious gaze down its face…her…face with a tilt of his head. "Or a female."

A deep rumble hit the room and Garrus tensed. When the doctor reached up to press a button on one of his machines, he saw her large head shaking and warmth dancing in its black eyes - did she just chuckle?, "Bittersweetly: females are everywhere, no one takes notice of the elcor to recognize the differences between genders. We are not so obviously diverse as the humans or your kind. Slight offense: I am a good doctor and perfectly capable of taking care of a wide array of patients and guiding a team of specialists to pick up where my own specialties do not extend, Mr. Vakarian."

He raised the hand that wasn't ladened with wires and said softly, "Please, no offense, I meant none. I just am curious by nature. Too curious, some would say."

"Forgivingly: You are an officer, are you not?"

"I was…" he looked away, he had tried desperately not to think about any of that and had had the wonderful bliss of drugs, hums of machinery and unfamiliar setting to lull them to rest for a while. To block most of it out, to just focus on the moment.

"Encouragingly: perhaps you will be again, Mr. Vakarian."

He didn't look at the doctor, but he shrugged one shoulder and settled back into the bed. "Why a doctor though?" He turned the conversation back to her. He genuinely was curious, and this was more conversation he had in days. Though Tali did come to check on him, she had made it clear that she wanted to be with Joker. The pilot was in a medically induced coma, and she wanted to make sure he knew he wasn't alone. It had been an understanding between the both of them and he had encouraged her to be there. He liked Joker. He feared for him. But he would never say it to Tali. The man was already proving his strength by having survived this long.

"Challengingly: because they told me I wouldn't be able to." His attention was brought back to the doctor at these words, and he chuckled softly and grinned as she continued. "You were right in being shocked about my presence here, there are very few of my kind in this profession outside of my homeworld – and even still, the majority are shaman rather than true medical professionals. However, my place is on ships, and I do not barter."

Garrus probed further, "Why not? Your kind have a knack for trade. Some of the best merchants and most honest, are elcor."

"Appreciative: that is true, but I ...do not."

He watched the doctors hands as she worked his bandages of the cracks in his skin. Day by day they were looking better, but it was still shocking to know that his body had done this to him. Crushed him inward and snapped plating. The memory of his last days on that frozen planet were not of pleading hope of rescue – they weren't desperate longing of being found – no, he had prayed for death. There was no being in the galaxy that would have been able to save him then, he had accepted it. Opened his arms wide for the void to take him.

He almost physically had to draw himself out of his thoughts again and focused on what the doctor had just said, and curiosity won over the memories that were raw and annoyingly too close to the surface. He wondered why she phrased it like that. 'That is true, but I do not'. That slight pause in the words indicated the importance of them. It was a good way to allow questions and curiosity to pique forward. Still, he felt a clip of her words that he himself understood on a basic level. She had said what she wanted on the subject and though he wanted her took keep explaining he would not press the topic. It was clear that the doctor had a story there, but unlike Liara, he would not take them from her. A knife twisted in his stomach at the thought. He closed his eyes as his brows furrowed deep at it. He was angry with her, disgusted by her. She knew damn well that it was wrong what she did and – though he knew logically she had to – it didn't matter. She took his choice. So what if he had lost himself to true Turian grief? Anger and grief and desperation were common in his brood. When one loses…loses….

Shepard.

His breath pitched and his mandibles flared out and locked as he felt himself lean further into it. A large hand fell surprisingly gently against his arm, and he blinked his eyes and looked to it first and then up to the doctor. He had momentarily forgotten her presence at all.

"Awed: I have never heard a Turian mewl before. I have seen them fight, rage, pained ...dying – but never mourning." The doctor eyed him almost clinically, before he truly saw her face soften and she dropped her hand away from him. "Empathetically: this loss is heartbreaking to hear. It is like the storms on Dekuuna. Rumbling and slicing in the distance, but close enough to feel it roll. I am sorry for the loss of your friends, Mr. Vakarian. I do not wish this grief on any of you."

He softened considerably at her words, his mandibles relaxing, and his shoulders sagged, he gave her a tight nod and a moment later – she left the room.

After docking at the Citadel, Garrus watched through his doorway as the crew and officiants from the Citadel sped through ship. He saw them first take, he believed, Joker. He was surprised to see him in a machine that resembled a sleeping pod and thought it may actually have been a portable clean room for the quarians. A place to be shielded from outside stimuli and possible infections. It worried him deeper than he wanted to admit that the man had seemed as if it were more of a human coffin than a medical device.

He truly felt the worry flare inside him when he thought more about the pilot. He hadn't had time to before, more so, he just hadn't thought about too much at all. Thinking about anything too long was causing Garrus to lose his mind. He felt young, far younger than he was, almost like a whelp - fall and scrape a knee you get back up - but he had fallen and he was up and the pain wasn't going away.

He knew that for Joker losing the Normandy was probably as bad as losing Shepard to the pilot. He loved his ship, and he was a damned good helmsman. He also had loved Shepard. The two of them had served together for a long time. Both had been Lieutenants of the same rank -different stations- before she was positioned in as Commander when she took over the ship. Everyone knew that their relationship was stimmed from basic training, to schooling and to into active combat. Where once he had even though perhaps they had had a more intimate relationship due to their banter and Shepard's constant need to seek him out – light touches to his shoulder or arm, gentle worry over his condition and his fierce and unyielding loyalty even when he had no right to believe her…but after spending a year with them, it was just clear: they were family.

They weren't soldiers to each other. Shepard never pulled rank and he had open communication with her to ensure that the choices she was making were not brash and would not jeopardize the crew or 'his baby'. It was unorthodox and, in the Hierarchy, almost criminal. But it worked for them, and it worked for the crew and fuck everything if they weren't a damned good team because of it.

Tali entered the room and interrupted his thoughts, "You're next, Garrus." He nodded at her and looked past her shoulder to see Liara lingering at the doorway. He hadn't seen her in days and at the sight of her he realized he was perfectly okay with that fact. Tali's glowing eyes watched his face for a moment then looked to Liara and back to him, "Garrus?"

"No," he said firmly and watched the asari's shoulders fall in defeat before she nodded her head just once, dipping her blue eyes and removed herself from the entrance of the room just in time for a group of people into his room.

"What was that about?" he heard Tali ask as she stepped out of the way of the people unhooking the machines, and helping his transfer from his bed onto a transport gurney.

"She knows," he would answer and looked to the door as his doctor strolled in, easily taking up the space of three grown men. She cooly looked at the crew that was around him and they shifted out of her way before she stopped at his side. She was either completely unaware of the tension in the room between the quarian and the turian or completely dismissive of it.

"Factually: you will be taken to Huerta Memorial for your surgeries, Mr. Vakarian. It should not be long after that before you will be able to leave the confinement of a hospital setting. Softly: I know you do not like this environment, but it was a pleasure to converse with you. Sadly: I will miss being seen."

It was he who reached out then and placed a hand on her shoulder, "Anytime, Doc, once my omni-tool is back in commission I will reach out to you. Thank you."

She dipped her large head down just enough and closed her eyes that she looked as if she were bowing, "Hopefully: I would like that, you are most welcome – may you find comfort in healing."

For some reason, he felt a pang at her words. Healing. The thought of healing and becoming normal – strong – able – back to normal when his whole path chosen has just been shaken and ripped out from under his feet seemed overwhelmingly too simple. He let his hand fall from her shoulders as the team that had come to collect him moved him towards the door. He heard Tali argue with one of the men when the bed his the frame and he winced in pain.

An eerie feeling came to him when wheels hit the docking bay's floor. It was a disturbing knowledge that this wasn't like coming to dry land after finding oneself drowning. This was a glass bridge of a life he hadn't ever thought he'd go back to. It splintered under the weight of him and he was sure it would crack and he would fall. The Citadel was an illusion – it was no more solid ground than the ship he was wheeled from or the home he had watch crumble.

He was still floating out there somewhere.

Somewhere over a blue world of white snow. Wrapped in charcoal gray armor with a proud red stripe and an N7 brand on its chest.

A/N

I wanted to squeeze in here and put my two sense in on Garrus and Liara.

It is clear that they do not speak much in the two years after Shepard's death but had held no open hostility towards one another and their banter in elevators had been pleasant enough. So I always figured that sometime after her death - they either just didn't have enough friendship to stand on or something occurred that caused a rift that...as we all know...was able to be mended.

Anyway - there's organization in my chaos! Hope you all enjoy it as we watch it happen.

:)