Garrus
Garrus fluttered his mandibles, glancing between the two Alliance guards positioned outside of the door leading to Dawn's suite. Neither of them met his gaze, he guessed they didn't care whether or not he was there, since he'd already been cleared by the front desk. He almost expected to be given shit, seeing as Anderson placed James in charge of who got to see Dawn. Holding his authority over Garrus' head would've been right up James' alley, as she'd say.
She'd already been in the hospital for a week—and yeah, they could call it whatever they wanted, but The Pearson Sisters' Sanctuary was a hospital for the mentally unstable—and it was the first time he'd worked up the nerve to go see her. He hated Anderson committed her there, hated the idea of anyone knowing she was there. He didn't want anyone to think of her as weak or broken … even if it did seem to be the case. She was the strongest, bravest person he'd ever known. Spirits knew he wouldn't hold up as well as she did with some other version of himself rattling away inside of his head.
Die for the cause. It's what every turian learned, hell, they made it their anthem. He guessed that made her a better turian than he ever was; she did die for the cause, willingly, and he knew if push came to shove, she'd do it again. He didn't think he could, not the way she did, not knowing it waited just around the corner and then marching straight for it, determined to make sure it happened. And then she came back, like the phoenix being reborn from the ashes she had tattooed on her back.
Then everything started going to shit. He'd been watching the fissures in her mind and soul grow for months, even as the cracks in her flesh healed. He tried to help her hold the pieces together, tried to keep her safe, even when it just led to them fighting and her feeling like she needed to hide things from him. He dropped the ball, though, as she'd say, not being where she needed him to be when she needed him there the most. Joker paid the cost, and it shattered her heart.
He shattered her heart. He should've anticipated an attack on the ship, should've been ready to defend the pilot—even if the pilot didn't happen to be someone Dawn thought of as a brother. They were lucky between EDI and what remained of the Cerberus crew that they were able to get the Normandy away from the collector base before the whole thing blew up. They all nearly died on that base because he was more concerned with making sure the guns were perfectly calibrated than keeping the rest of the ship secure. Because he felt sore about being left behind.
One of the soldiers guarding her door shifted and cleared his throat, reminding Garrus that he still stood outside, staring at the door instead of knocking. He flicked his mandibles and knocked on the door before crossing his arms to wait. Taking a deep breath, steeling himself to see her again, he prayed to whoever or whatever might be listening in that she'd be better. He'd walk through the door, and she'd give him the smile she only used with him. She'd wrap her arms around his neck and push up on her toes to kiss him. Dr. Chakwas said she'd made some improvements but warned him not to get his hopes up. He couldn't help it, though.
A moment later, the door opened, James' imposing form blocking the entrance. Smiling, he stepped out of the way. "Hey, Scars." He turned, raising his voice and said, "Ídola? You with me? Garrus is here to see you."
Garrus followed James into the suite, past a partitioning wall. He sucked in a slow breath, trying to ease the ache in his chest when he saw her sitting on the couch, staring at Joker's hat resting on her lap. She looked so lost.
"Ídola?" James said again, picking up a remote from the table and turning off the vidscreen.
Dawn turned her head to look at James, and Garrus flared his mandibles. James pointed at him, and her head shifted again, her gaze meeting his. The utter look of apathy in her eyes might as well have been a clip emptied straight into his heart. Finally, he thought he understood how much it hurt her the day he rejected her on Omega. She turned her attention back to the hat, leaving Garrus completely deflated. He didn't know what he really expected … supposed he thought she'd look at least a little happy to see him, but she just didn't seem to care.
James winced, putting a hand on Garrus' shoulder. "It's not personal, mi amigo. She only seems to respond to me because I bring her food. Oh!" Stepping away for a moment, he went into the kitchen area and returned with a bottle of red Tupari, handing it to Garrus. "Here, try this. The red ones seem to be her favorite today."
Garrus turned the bottle over in his hand, mandibles flared and looked at James. "Today?"
"Yeah, it seems to change." James shrugged. "Just open it and hand it to her." He jerked his head toward the door. "I'm going to take a walk, check in with Anderson. Just uh, call me before you head out."
Garrus nodded, turning his attention back to the bottle in his hand. James seriously wanted him to—what?—bribe Dawn to pay attention to him with Tupari? She wasn't a child. Spirits, it was hard enough to see her like that without making everything feel even more desperate. He glanced up when the door closed behind James and watched her for a moment, scenting the air. She smelled like the woman he loved, but he wasn't entirely sure it was a good thing just then.
Crossing the floor, he sat the bottle down on the table. "Hello, Dawn." Flicking his mandibles, he smiled at her when she looked at him again. "Hmmm. I thought I might sit with you for a little while, if that's alright with you?"
Her gaze left his, moving down to the bottle on the table and stayed there. Garrus chuffed and she looked up at him again. His visor flashed, picking up on the brief flutter of her heart, and for just a second, he thought he saw something familiar and hungry in her eyes, but just as quickly, it disappeared. Her gaze traveled back to the Tupari. He sighed, picking the bottle back up and twisted off the cap, holding it out to her. Taking the bottle, her fingers brushed over his gloved hand, and a keen rose up in his throat. He cut it off, tamping down the longing and hurt.
While she drank, he stepped back and took off his light armor. He still couldn't handle his heavy armor, but he damn sure wasn't going to walk around the Citadel wearing nothing. He hated himself for being worn out just from making the trip from the apartment he rented two blocks away to The Pearson Sisters' Sanctuary. He hated himself even more for heaving a sigh of relief as he slipped the extra weight off his shoulders.
After stacking the pieces on the chair, as an afterthought, he pulled off his gloves, too, tossing them down on the table. When he glanced up again, Dawn watched him, indifferent. She took another drink of Tupari and looked back down at Joker's hat. Garrus sat down on the couch, leaving a couple of feet between them, and studied the hat, too. He didn't notice it the last time he looked at it, but there was a fine spray of blood staining the white across the bill. He doubted her eyes would even be able to see it. She ran her fingers over the SR-2, gentle, almost reverent.
The briney scent of her tears brought his gaze back to her face. She just let them fall, not bothering to wipe them away or hide her face the way she often did, like she didn't even realize she was crying. He hummed without really meaning to, stopping himself just before reaching out to pull her into his arms. She looked at him, holding his gaze, and for a moment he saw confusion in her eyes.
After a long moment of silence, he flared his mandibles, searching for something to say. "So, I talked to Miranda today, she's still chasing after the Illusive Man." He tapped a bared talon against the table. "Jack decided to stay on the Normandy, she intends to make good on your promise to be there when the Illusive Man dies, even if you aren't leading the mission." He chuffed, giving his head a little shake. "I'll be surprised if those two make it through without tearing up the bulkheads in a biotic … what'd you call it? Pissing contest?" He picked up the Tupari cap and turned it over in his fingers, running a talon over the ridges. "Hmmm. I guess I should stop asking questions …."
He let the silence linger for awhile, and eventually she turned her attention back to the hat and her sports drink. He studied the bottle cap. "Dawn, I'm … I'm so sorry about Joker. Zaeed and the others, too, of course. But I know Joker meant a lot to you." He swallowed, shaking his head. "I swear I—"
She brought a hand to his face, her fingertips brushing along his mandible. A soft, longing keen tore through his throat, and he closed his eyes, leaning into the touch. Spirits he missed her. Every time it seemed like things were settling into a comfortable rhythm for them, something happened to tear her away again. He probably spent more time worrying about her and trying to hang on to the good moments than anything else in his life.
She moved her hand, tracing over his colony markings, fingers sweeping over his face, just below his eye before arching over the bridge of his nose and back down the other side. "Garrus," she said, her voice so soft the word whisper didn't seem adequate.
Heart slamming against his ribs with hope, he brought his hand to hers, pressing her palm against the curve of his face and opened his eyes. "Dawn …." He purred, turning his head to press his mouth plates to the inside of her wrist.
If he thought she'd smile, maybe lean into him, he'd be wrong. She watched him with the same look of indifference she had before, but she didn't pull away from him either. Maybe it was just his imagination; maybe she didn't really say his name at all. He chided himself, Dr. Chakwas told him not to get his hopes up, and there he sat, getting his hopes up. He flicked his mandibles in chagrin and squeezed her fingers before letting them go. Her hand slipped away from his face, and her gaze went back to the hat.
He blew out a heavy breath and just sat there for a minute, watching her while his heart settled into a steady pace once more. "Hmmm. So, I don't know if he's come to see you yet, but Thane is staying on the Citadel for now, too. Grunt said he's going to have Miranda take him to Tuchanka once he kills your enemy. Mordin went back to Sur'Kesh to work on the genophage cure. Samara left while we were on Illium." He turned on the couch to face her more squarely. "Not really sure where Kasumi is, but I bet James knows. Jacob's staying on to help Miranda deal with the Illusive Man and transition into her new role. Tali, Kal, Lia, and Legion are going to go back to Rannoch, but Tali said she wanted to make sure 'that bosh'tet, the Illusive Man, is really taken care of first.'"
Dawn looked at him again, her gaze seeming fixated on his visor. A moment later, she reached out and plucked it from his head. He chuffed, and her gaze flicked back to his for just a second. Bringing the visor up to her face, she fiddled with trying to get it situated over her own eye, the shape of her human head not very accommodating. He chuckled and helped her adjust the visor, seating it against the base of her skull. Detecting a new user, the blue, holographic viewing screen turned back on, returning the settings to default. He'd have to reset everything later, but he didn't mind.
He watched her as she looked around the room through the visor, her gaze finally settling back on him, and thought about what the visor might be telling her about him. He knew it'd tell her the basics, his distance, height, weight, points of weaknesses based on his species … it'd been so long since he bought it, he couldn't remember for sure what the defaults were anymore. After a moment, she pulled the visor off and handed it back to him, but he sat it down on top of his gloves. She didn't seem to like that too much, picking the visor up and handing it to him again.
"You want me to put it back on?" He raised his brow ridges, but she just watched him.
Chuffing, he nodded, looking down at the visor for a second before re-adjusting the brace and slipped it back into place. Once again, the screen turned on, showing him the defaults. Her heart beat strong and steady, the corner of her mouth twitched—almost a smile.
"Better?" He grinned, flicking his mandibles at her.
Her lip twitched again.
He hummed. "I do make it look good, don't I?"
She stood up, the abrupt movement surprising him, and then she carried Joker's hat over to a shelf and sat it down. Staying there, she seemed to be looking at something else on the shelf, so Garrus got up and followed, standing behind her to look over her shoulder. All of her things had been transferred from the Normandy, and on the shelf, someone had put her framed pictures. Her gaze held steady on a photograph of the two of them.
He remembered that night. She'd plopped down on his lap, surprising him and making him grunt. He'd laughed, wrapping his arms around her waist and turning her a little so he could see her face. She'd grinned, opening her omni-tool, and then a few seconds later, she wrapped her arm around his neck, pressing the side of her face to his and told him to smile.
Her gaze shifted to a picture of Joker, sitting in the pilot's seat, scowling at the camera. She picked up the picture and moved it to the top shelf, next to pictures of Ashley, Kaidan, and Liara. "Joker's dead," she whispered before repeating it again, a little louder. "So is Zaeed. We don't have any pictures of Zaeed."
His thoughts went in two different directions. One part analyzed her behavior and the fact she actually spoke when the doctor said she hadn't said a single word yet. The other wanted to pull her into his arms and bury his face in her neck, cry with her and tell her again how sorry he felt. He wasn't really sure how she'd take to that much contact, though, so instead, he put his hand on her shoulder.
Brushing his thumb back and forth over the bare skin just past her collar, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "I know, I'm sorry. I got there as fast as I could, I swear, it just wasn't fast enough."
She tilted her head back to look up at him. Something shifted in her eyes, and she seemed more lucid than he'd seen her since the day her world turned upside down. "It's not your fault. It's our fault."
He frowned, shaking his head. "It can't be your fault. Or Jane's. You didn't know it was going to happen."
She turned, taking half a step back to look up at him. "Our fault." Tears started to well up in her eyes, and she leaned forward, pressing her forehead to his chest.
He hesitated, mandibles fluttering helplessly, but then he caved, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her in closer. She tucked her arms up between their chests and sobbed, her whole body trembling as the floodgates opened up. A low, mournful keen seeped out of him, and he tucked his head down into the curve of her neck and shoulder, letting her scent fill his lungs.
When she stopped shaking, breathing evening back out, she stayed there a moment longer before disentangling herself from his arms and went back to the couch. She sat down, wiping the tear streaks from her face and drained the bottle of Tupari. She looked completely calm, as if she wasn't just bawling her eyes out a minute before.
He watched her, scenting the air but finding only the lingering scents of her emotional anguish. "Dawn?"
She looked up at him, the apathetic, almost absent look in her eyes again, and his heart sank. He made his way back over to sit next to her and took her hand in his. Running his fingers over the faint scars crossing the back of her hand, he sighed. He didn't understand what was going on with her, why she seemed to be retreating again after finally opening up a little. She'd spent days closed off completely, but when she leaned into him … he thought … Spirits, he needed her whole. Needed her to tell him what to do, the entire galaxy remained at stake, and she was lost. And, he just needed her.
"I asked Grundan Krul to see if Zaeed had any family …" he said, wanting to fill the silence, "... or anyone who should be notified of his death. He said Zaeed had a son named Bain, but there wasn't any evidence to show they had any sort of relationship. He's having trouble finding Bain, though, he signed up for something called the Andromeda Initiative and fell off the radar. Grundan Krul's looking into what the Andromeda Initiative is now, digging through the old Shadow Broker's records."
She didn't respond, not even a twitch of her lips.
"Dr. Chakwas said I've shown remarkable progress. Other than the scars, there won't be any lasting damage." He hummed and sat back against the couch, letting go of her hand and stretching his arm out over the top of the cushion. Carrying on a one-sided conversation proved more difficult than he'd realized. "The Hierarchy made several arrests of people associated with The Dissension thanks to the list you passed on to Primarch Fedorian." He tapped his talons against the soft fabric, mandibles fluttering. "Hmmm. Things are still pretty tense here on the Citadel, I received more than a few weary looks on my way over to see you. Spectre Protalus is still missing as far as the Council is concerned. Hmmm. What else? Oh, Anderson said the Alliance gave Admiral Hackett an award for his defense of Earth."
Dawn sighed, just a soft sound carrying the weight of exhaustion. He watched her profile for a moment, mandibles fluttering as he tried to decide whether he should just leave her alone. Maybe his talking wasn't helping her any, no matter what Dr. Chakwas said. It wasn't like he had much good news to share with her. Glancing at the door, mind just about made up to leave, he froze when she pulled her legs up and leaned in against his side.
He looked down, but he couldn't see her face. She tucked one arm in against his side and the other slid around his waist. Purring, he moved his arm down to her back, tucking her in closer and kicked his feet up on the table. A moment later, her body went slack, and he knew she'd checked out again, gone back inside herself with Jane and the others, he supposed. He sighed and closed his eyes, deciding to just be content she'd done so in his arms.
Garrus awoke with a start, neck stiff from sleeping sitting up on the couch. Dawn wasn't next to him anymore, and he didn't see her when he looked around the room. Panic gripped him for a moment, closing a fist around his throat, and he chuffed, shaking his head to clear away the last of the cobwebs. He didn't even mean to fall asleep, but he wasn't really surprised. Sleep had been rather elusive since Anderson took Dawn away from the Normandy. That first night without her, alone in her cabin, surrounded by her scent, he spent the night keening into her pillows. Since moving to the Citadel, he mostly tossed and turned when he laid down, or just stayed awake half the night looking over reports and reaching out to his old contacts. Last night he talked to Jack for a few hours until she fell asleep.
Pushing himself from the couch, he took in a deep breath and started walking, following the trail of her scent. He found her standing in the bathroom, door open as she stared at her reflection. Her gaze shifted, meeting his in the mirror. She looked so lost and confused, it tore out a little piece of his soul. She turned her gaze back to her own reflection, and he watched her in silence, mandibles slack as his heart ached.
She lifted a hand to her face but stopped just before making contact. For a moment, she smelled of the same fear he'd grown use to with her nightmares. Moving into the bathroom behind her, he put a hand on her shoulder, a nameless feeling writhing along his gizzard making him feel like she was slipping through his fingers. He'd seen that look in her eyes before—even if the rest of her face wasn't as expressive at the moment—the night Brooke took over as Dawn started waking up from her coma. She'd seen Dawn's face in Spike's terrarium and lost it.
The sound of the front door sliding open drew his attention, and he guided Dawn out of the bathroom. She followed without complaint, going wherever his hand led her. James and Dr. Chakwas stood in the living room area, glancing around.
Dr. Chakwas' gaze found Garrus, and she smiled. "Ah, there you two are."
He flicked his mandibles, giving her a smile. "Yeah … we were just checking out how incredibly attractive we both are." Squeezing Dawn's shoulder a little, he led her back to the couch. "There really should be mirrors in every room."
Dr. Chakwas scoffed, waving her hand. "When you get to be my age, mirrors are not your friends."
James nudged Dr. Chakwas. "Come on, doc, you're still—"
"Lieutenant Vega," she said, arching her eyebrow and pointing at him, "you finish that sentence, and I'll have Garrus shoot you."
Garrus chuckled, sitting down next to Dawn. "Just say the word."
James sat down on the other side of Dawn, taking up as much space as possible, as if he didn't take up enough without trying. "What? I'm just sayin' you don't have anything to worry about."
Dr. Chakwas snorted softly, rolling her eyes as she sat down in a chair near the couch, crossing her legs and folding her hands in her lap. She turned her attention to Dawn and asked, "How are you feeling today, Commander?"
All eyes turned to Dawn, but she didn't meet anyone's gaze. Instead, she stared fixedly at the shelf holding her photographs and Joker's hat. Garrus half expected her to go back to the shelf again, but she didn't leave his side.
After nearly a minute of silence, he hummed and looked back to the doctor. "She talked a little, earlier."
"For real?" James glanced at Garrus, eyebrows raised, from over Dawn's head.
"Oh? That's fantastic!" Dr. Chakwas leaned forward, opening her omni-tool before turning her attention back to him. "What did she say?"
Garrus fluttered his mandibles, gaze flicking to Dawn instinctively, seeking her guidance but not finding any. He forced his attention back to Dr. Chakwas, waiting for him to answer. "Hmmm. She didn't really say much. She uh, she touched my face, and I thought I heard her say my name then. A few minutes later, she carried Joker's hat over to the shelf," he said, pointing at the hat, "and started looking at the pictures. She told me Joker's dead and so is Zaeed then said something about not having any pictures of Zaeed."
He shifted, turning a little more towards Dawn and took her hand in his. He hated talking about her as if she wasn't there, wished she'd say something else, take part in the conversation. Throat tightening, he took a deep breath and swallowed down the grief threatening to break through the surface again.
He stayed quiet for a moment, looking at their hands while he thought back on their brief conversation. "I tried to apologize … for Joker. She said it isn't my fault and tried to blame herself and Jane. I told her it couldn't be their fault, but she just said, 'Our fault.'" Looking back at the doctor, he cleared his throat, all to aware of his voice cracking as he spoke. "She started crying and leaned into me."
Dr. Chakwas' gaze flicked back up from her omni-tool. "Anything else?"
Garrus shook his head. "No." But, Spirits, he wished she'd given him more.
"She touched my face when I sat down next to her the other day, too." James leaned forward a little, glancing between Garrus and Dr. Chakwas. "What's that about?"
"I'm not entirely sure." Dr. Chakwas shook her head. "She did the same to me when I checked on her yesterday. It's possible she's trying to reassert herself on reality—unable or unwilling to rely entirely on her other senses. Perhaps touch is helping to anchor her."
"Well, there you go, Scars." James waggled his eyebrows, a smirk covering his face.
Garrus chuffed, flicking his mandibles and shaking his head. Right, like Dawn had any interest in anything sexual, she barely acknowledged his presence from one minute to the next. He turned his attention back to Dr. Chakwas before he decided to cuff the marine; he knew James meant it as a joke, but Garrus didn't find much humor in the situation. "So, you're saying she isn't sure we're real?"
"I believe so. We know she was already experiencing memories from those Shepards she … absorbed during her coma, and it only increased when she took in more later. Her mental status was already fragile, adding trauma on top of that, particularly losing someone she was close to … it makes sense that a part of her would revert to a reality where Joker still lives."
"The memories from the other Shepards are more real to her right now than we are?" James furrowed his brow.
"Precisely." Dr. Chakwas nodded. "But, she is showing signs of processing this trauma and is slowly reorienting back to this, more painful, reality."
"After she stopped crying, she sat back down and it was just like it never happened. I tried talking to her a little more, but she didn't say anything else. After a little while, she leaned in against me and just disappeared again." He fluttered his mandibles, embarrassed to admit he spent half his time with her sleeping, but he fessed up. "I fell asleep for awhile, and when I woke up, I found her in the bathroom looking in the mirror. I think—I'm not sure she really recognizes her own reflection."
"Why do you think that?" Dr. Chakwas' hand moved back to her omni-tool.
He shook his head, swallowing again and flared his mandibles. "Just the look in her eyes, I guess. And the way she started to touch her face but stopped half an inch away. It reminded me of the night Brooke panicked when she saw Dawn's face."
Dr. Chakwas hummed, and he almost saw the gears turning in her head. James turned his attention to Dawn, studying her face as if he expected to see something different than a moment before. Garrus lifted a hand, careful of his bare talons, and scooped a lock of hair back out of her face, tucking it behind her ear—a gesture that once would've certainly brought a smile to her face but not anymore.
"I suppose it's possible, with the memories, from time to time when she looks in the mirror she isn't seeing herself." Dr. Chakwas bobbed her head from side to side. "It might even simply be the influence of emotions coming from the other Shepards, like Brooke, they see Dawn's face instead of their own, and it troubles them."
"So, is there anything we can do to help her, you know, re-adjust faster?" James asked, giving voice to Garrus' thoughts.
Dr. Chakwas smiled, leaning back in her chair again and closing her omni-tool. "Ultimately it's something she has to do on her own, but being here with her, talking to her, even touching her in ways we normally touch her is helping."
James spread his hands apart, palms up. "That's it?"
It occured to Garrus that James' nickname for Dawn meant more than just a term of endearment. He really did idolize her, and seeing her fall apart had to be messing with his head, too. Garrus wondered what James talked to her about when no one else was around. Maybe he gave her pep talks, it seemed like something he'd do.
"Well, now that she's eating and moving around on her own again, I suppose encouraging proper nutrition and exercise will also be helpful." Dr. Chakwas glanced pointedly at the empty bottle of Tupari and then at Garrus.
He fluttered his mandibles, brow ridges hiking up. "Don't look at me, James gave it to me to give to her."
"What?" James shrugged, the corner of his mouth lifting in a lopsided smile. "She likes them."
Dr. Chakwas scoffed, taking on a motherly tone. "Regardless, things like Tupari should be limited. They aren't healthy."
Dawn told Garrus one night that Dr. Chakwas and Dr. Tulina were more than just friends, and Dr. Tulina was pregnant when the collectors hit the old Normandy. It was a shame, he thought Dr. Chakwas would've made a wonderful … father. Though, if he were completely honest, a part of him thought Dr. Tulina had to be insane to have stayed on the Normandy in her condition. She'd been in Dawn's head, she knew what they were up against … and how it would end.
He cleared his throat, pushing the thought away and changing the subject. "Has Thane been to see her yet?" Fluttering his mandibles, he looked down at Dawn's hand in his as she began running her thumb along his knuckles.
His heart gave a few, rapid thumps against his ribs, and he smiled, tightening his grip on her hand just a little. She was still in there. His Dawn was still in there, and he'd keep fighting to pull her back out. Anything she needed. Anything.
"Yeah, he came by on her third day here. Said he wanted to give her a couple of days to settle in." James hesitated a moment, looking at Dawn. "She was still pretty out of it, though, I don't think she even knew he was here. He left after a couple of hours; he had a meeting with a hanar diplomat. He was going to talk to them about the reapers. I haven't heard from him since."
Dawn's hand twitched in Garrus' grip, and then her caressing stopped. He looked at her, and her eyes glazed over, hand going limp in his. His mandibles drooped, and he let out a soft sigh.
"It's okay, Garrus." Dr. Chakwas' voice took on that soft, concerned coo she often used when Dawn or Jane became upset over something, and he didn't particularly like hearing it directed at him. She offered him a warm smile. "This didn't happen to her overnight; it's not going to fix itself overnight, either."
Something in him retreated, a shutter slamming down, protecting him from the ache and the fear. He'd waited two years for Dawn to come back to him, but as soon as she did, he started losing her again. Was it just more wishful thinking to believe he might help piece her back together again? How much could one woman go through and still come through the other side? What if it was what the rest of their life would be like together?
Maybe it wasn't a bad thing, with the way she was just then, she wouldn't be fighting in the war let alone activating the Crucible. Maybe it was the answer to how she survived the war. He chuffed, hanging his head while he stared at the floor in front of him. Spirits, who the hell would wish something like that for someone they loved?