(This will be a pretty long one, for reasons that the chapter title may or may not hint at. Been looking forward to writing this chapter since I first came up with the idea for this story.

Sorry it took a while. Will try to release the next one quicker!

Enjoy!)

Reunion

The Typhoon in Garrus' hands pointed aimlessly at the floor, his grip on it slackening. Miranda stood with a hand on one hip, her posture the same familiar mix of professionalism and confidence, and her lips were curled in that annoying smirk of hers. In the usual white bodysuit and black leather sleeves, she still looked every inch the calculating and devious individual he had grown to tolerate but never trust during their mission against the Collectors.

As he processed what she'd just said, Liara and Tali both stepped forward, speaking over each other in a rush. Tali's voice was louder, however, and she got the most straightforward question out first. "Miranda? What are you doing here?!"

Liara cut in immediately after Tali finished her sentence. "This situation with the Alliance was of your making, wasn't it? Why all the deception? What's-"

"Is she alive, Lawson?" Garrus cut the asari off. Both Tali and Liara looked at him, going quiet as they did so. They seemed embarrassed to have not asked that first, but Garrus didn't pay them any mind; he had eyes only for Miranda, who crossed her arms and frowned back at him.

"Vakarian, there's a lot I need to explain here, and-"

"Is. She. Alive."

There was silence in the room as Miranda regarded him for a long moment. Her eyes met his, and although there was an expression of concern and wariness in her gaze, there was no deception there; she didn't break eye contact with him as she finally spoke.

"Yes, Garrus. She is."

Garrus didn't feel his legs give way; one moment he was standing, and the next he was collapsed against the counter of the room's small bar, his breath escaping him in a long rush. His vision was blurry and his head swam, and he barely noticed Tali laughing and wrapping him in a quick hug even as Liara cupped her face with her hands, whispering, "Goddess, thank you …"

He could only manage one single thought. Janna's alive.

She's alive.

Spirits, she's alive .

Dimly, he was aware of Tali releasing him and straightening back up to address Miranda. With his pulse still pounding in his ears, her voice was faint and muffled. "You have to tell us where she is, Miranda. We've all been worried sick for three months, we have to go see her!"

Lawson shook her head slowly. "Not quite yet, Tali. The situation is… delicate. There are matters I need to brief you all on beforehand."

Garrus blinked, his surroundings swimming back into focus. Is she serious…?

Pushing himself back upright, he stalked forward slowly to get into Lawson's face. "Just take us to Shepard," he demanded. Liara might have been the only one in the room who at least somewhat understood the intricacies of turian sub-harmonics, but the threatening growl laced into his tone would be obvious to anyone. "Brief us on the way there if you have to. I'm done waiting."

Miranda sighed, closing her eyes and turning away. Her expression was one of frustration and exasperation, but Garrus couldn't care less. He maintained his steady glare as she muttered, "If I tell you where she is, you'll go storming off before I explain anything else and-" Lawson raised a hand as his mandibles twitched downwards, a louder growl escaping his throat. "And it would be pointless because you can't speak to her or even see her yet, Garrus! She's in no fit state right now!"

That stopped him for a moment, but he still felt like grabbing Lawson by the throat and shaking her until she gave him a straight answer. At the back of his mind, Garrus knew such thoughts were irrational and wouldn't get him anywhere, but having a target for the anger and frustration that had festered within him for three months felt good . He wanted Miranda worried that he'd act rashly, worried enough that she might skip her usual vague and aloof act and tell him what he needed to hear. "And what exactly do you mean by 'no fit state'? Tell us everything, now, " he demanded.

Lawson finally stepped back, yielding to Garrus as she returned to the desk in the corner of the room. "That, I can do," she acquiesced, taking her seat once more and looking Garrus and the others over. "At least you all don't look too starved and tired to listen; I take it one of the first ships sent out reached you in time with supplies… and with the big news."

"Yes, the Ares reached us about a month after the battle," Liara replied. "They claimed the war was won and the Reapers were destroyed. Other ships we contacted on our journey here said much the same."

Miranda nodded. "All Reaper activity has ceased. They all simply shut down, falling over or drifting about in space. Whatever happened- whatever Shepard did with the Crucible- it worked. As far as anyone can tell, the effect was galaxy-wide."

"'Whatever happened?' It's still unknown what the Crucible actually did?"

"Indeed. Obviously it did end up discharging some kind of massive energy pulse, as the scientists and engineers who assembled the Crucible predicted. As far as they all were aware, there was nothing in the Crucible's design to initiate what was apparently the targeted destruction of synthetic life, however; it's believed a final adjustment of some kind was made on the Citadel. Shepard must have triggered it, but she's been in no shape to explain what she did." Miranda's firm tone wavered just a tad at the end of her final sentence.

A sick feeling started growing in Garrus' stomach; he did not like the sound of that at all. "She's injured?" he whispered.

Miranda nodded once more, slowly, her expression growing more grim.

"How badly?"

"Bad enough that the first few days were a race just to save her. No need for panic, she's been stable for a while now," Miranda quickly affirmed as Garrus tightened his mandibles and Liara's face grew horrified. "She was found in the rubble of the Presidium two days after the Crucible fired, once the surviving fleets that didn't make it through the relay regrouped at Earth; Admiral Hackett took personal command of the rescue effort on the Citadel, and the team that found her reported straight to him. Ship-based med bays were the best option available at the time, and she was brought onboard the frigate Gabriel in secrecy and stabilized as best she could be."

Miranda passed a hand through her hair, taking a deep breath as she continued. "Hackett contacted me soon afterward, and gave me some medical staff to work with who could all stay quiet. I suppose my credentials as the director of the Lazarus Project made me the ideal choice for helping Shepard once more while being subtle about it."

"Subtle?" Liara murmured, tilting her head to one side. "So it was you that kept the Alliance in the dark for the last couple of days, then. What's with all this subterfuge?"

"It was Hackett and myself working in conjunction, actually, and we've been doing that from the onset. He believes that Shepard's survival needs to remain a closely-guarded secret until the right time. The rescue team that found her was sworn to secrecy and redeployed to a remote corner of Earth where communications are still down. The Gabriel was sent out on a mission to bring aid to some distant sector of the galaxy immediately after Shepard was transferred to my care; I believe half of its crew didn't even know she was ever aboard."

"Why go to all that trouble?" Garrus cut in. "What was gained from keeping everyone in the dark that Shepard was still alive? Her survival would rally everyone else that made it through the war."

He glowered at Miranda, anger surging anew within him as a fresh realization came to mind. "And as for us, we spent three months stuck in the middle of nowhere, wondering if she was alive or dead and with no way to confirm either one. If you hadn't concealed her survival, the Ares could've let us know a while ago that she was alive. Instead, we were left with nothing but anxiety and fears! Why, Lawson?!"

"Because the good admiral realized the state that the galaxy would be in after the war; our troubles are far from over. His foresight is commendable, and I agree with his predictions. Especially those pertaining to Shepard and her status in a post-war galaxy, and how managing it all will be… more difficult for her than it would have once been."

Tali leaned forward, her shoulders hunched in a familiar expression of anxiety. "What's wrong with her, Miranda? Just how seriously was she hurt?"

The former Ceberus agent sighed, leaning on the desk with one arm and tapping its surface with a finger, a repetitive and nervous gesture. "Heavy debris landed across much of her left side and pinned her; some of it was clearly burning at first as well. She had other burns and internal injuries indicative of surviving close-range exposure to a Reaper attack. There were other complications, but those first two factors were the most concerning. It's honestly a miracle that she was still breathing when she was found. Even so, the left side of her face and torso were scarred and burned somewhat, and… and her left arm and leg suffered extensive damage. The corresponding cybernetic implants as well."

Miranda met Garrus' gaze once more, an apologetic look in her eyes. "We… I had to remove them. I'm sorry."

His breath caught as horror overtook him. "You removed her implants?" he dared, hoping against hope that was Miranda's meaning.

Lawson just shook her head. "Both of her left limbs, Garrus. We had to amputate; the damage was just too severe."

The room went dead silent as they all tried to comprehend what they were hearing. Tali clutched her arms tightly, shrinking in on herself as she whispered, "Keelah, no… Shepard…"

Liara laid a hand on the quarian's shoulder to comfort her, but her own eyes were glistening as she turned to face Garrus.

There was nothing he could say to her, to any of them. Garrus just stood there, limply holding his rifle in one hand, staring at Lawson as his imagination turned against him and terrible images filled his head. The very idea of it, of the strong and fierce soldier he had fallen helplessly in love with being reduced to… he couldn't even bear to keep thinking of it.

He tried to voice his defiance of the very idea, grief and rage granting him speech once more. "Why… but… didn't you have help, those medics or doctors that Hackett recruited? Why couldn't you just fix her like before? How could you do something like that, after implanting her with all that tech?! How was that not enough to help her recover?!"

"Her cybernetics were precisely why amputation was our only option. The implants were networked, a comprehensive system working in tandem, all of it needed to bring her back from death. Lazarus employed the cutting edge of cybernetic modification, but there were still drawbacks; namely, that technology of such sophistication wasn't well-equipped to be repaired after total failure. Segments could be replaced and integrated with the rest, but only with pre-designed replicas housed in compatible tissue."

Lawson huffed out a frustrated breath at that point. "The network was trying to support the ruined segments in her left limbs and failing overall as a result, rendering removal a necessity. Replacement wasn't an option, due to the single contingency created for this scenario falling to its death from the Normandy's boarding ramp, and we don't exactly have the resources to attempt the creation of another."

Garrus caught her meaning, recalling the mess that 'Maya Brooks' had tossed them into all too well. The entire crew's hectic adventure across the Citadel, searching for an identity thief, had culminated in a shootout within the Normandy as they confronted their strangest adversary ever- Shepherd's creepy and unhinged clone. Another wayward attempt by yet another Cerberus figure to fuck with Shepard's life. It still pissed him off just thinking about it.

Given that he was already extremely upset, that was just more fuel on the fire.

His grip tightening on his weapon, Garrus snarled, "So that was it? Your one easy fix wasn't available any more, so you just jumped straight to crippling her?"

"I am no miracle worker, Vakarian!" Miranda snapped, a rare display of her own anger surfacing. "I did the best I could with what resources were available in the aftermath of a literal apocalypse! At the end of the day, we succeeded in keeping her alive and relatively healthy, and we did it with no one the wiser so that the entire galaxy wouldn't be hounding her throughout her recovery."

The anger drained from her as quickly as it had appeared, her voice dropping to a low murmur as she closed her eyes. "I owed her that much. For Oriana. For everything."

The rage still burned hot within Garrus, but in that moment he found himself unwilling to direct it at Miranda again. Perhaps the only time he'd gotten glimpses of the real person hidden under her cold veneer had been their multiple attempts to safeguard Oriana Lawson. Shepard hadn't once hesitated to help Miranda protect her only real family in the galaxy.

If nothing else, Garrus could accept that Miranda truly meant to honor the debt she owed their commander.

"Alright, just…" he struggled to get his thoughts together, still reeling over what he was hearing from Miranda." "Just… promise me that there was no other way. Did you do everything in your power to help her, to keep her whole?"

"Why do you think she still hasn't fully recovered, three months after the fact?" Miranda shifted in place so she could hold one hand in the other, elbows on the arms of the chair she sat in. "I spent the first two months attempting everything I could think of to rewrite the results of the Lazarus Project. Saving her limbs depended on removing the dependency of her implants on the network they shared. We kept her under nearly around the clock; we had to, with the number of operations attempted."

She shrugged then, although her face betrayed her true frustration. "There were complications with her cybernetics that I suspect were caused by the Crucible; between that and the difficulty of undoing Lazarus, no real headway was made. We only came to the decision to amputate a month ago after all other avenues were exhausted, and since then it's been more work to reorganize her cybernetic network to adjust to the loss. Her many other injuries have required constant treatment as well. It made for a long, slow recovery process."

"You've had Shepard unconscious for three straight months?" Tali asked, her tone laden with concern.

"She's drifted in and out at times, but we've only fully awoken her twice to assess her condition. We needed to assess her mental function and if she suffered any brain trauma we hadn't yet detected. Both of those instances were only for a few minutes at most. With no issues of concern noted, we plan on waking her up for good today and returning her to the Normandy, now that you've all returned and can care for her going forward."

Beside Garrus, Liara stepped forward, her tears wiped away. Eagerness and wariness now warred on her face. "You said earlier that she was in no fit state for us to see her, Miranda. Yet now you claim that she'll be up and about shortly?"

"I did say 'right now,' T'Soni. As in at that very second," Miranda fired back. "I've had the doctors assigned to her care working around the clock for the last two days, ever since we found out you were all finally returning. They'll be finishing the final operation shortly, I believe. The anesthesia will be processed out of her following that, and she'll be up and aware relatively quickly; we were quite precise with the dosage. I just needed them to finish their work before a very angry turian barged in and disrupted the proceedings."

Garrus grunted, taking no small amount of offense from that. "That's not your call, Lawson. I'm not going to toss a group of doctors around while they're helping Shepard, but I sure as hell won't accept not even seeing her. Where is she being kept?"

"Six floors below us."

He froze upon hearing that, even as Tali stammered, "Wait, what? She's here in these apartments?"

"I had one of the larger apartments partially converted for medical use. Taking her into deep space onboard a ship wasn't very practical; any competent crew would catch on sooner or later, and having her here meant having access to what resources are still available on the Citadel and Earth."

Miranda shrugged in response to their still-confused expressions. "What hospitals remain are still jam packed and unsuitable for privacy, so this was as good a place as any to set up shop, far away from the inner wards where survivors and refugees are gathered. Equipment was covertly transferred here from the Gabriel along with Shepard herself, and what I still needed was procured by Hackett. Shepard's recovery has remained undisturbed as a result."

"You've had us just standing around and talking right above her this entire time?" Garrus snarled.

"I just needed to stall for a bit while they wrapped things up down there. I thought you all should know her circumstances ahead of time rather than losing your heads upon seeing her right away." Miranda turned to tap at the screens before her, making a few more notes or entries before swiping to close the screens down. She stood back up from the chair, stretching for a moment before fixing her usual grin back in place. "Right then, shall we? Fair warning, the elevators are slow and jumpy as an elcor; we're using generators to power the few rooms we need and some utilities in this place."

Garrus was tempted to block her way and let her have it for wasting their time, but he forced the anger down instead and finally collapsed the Typhoon, storing it on his back once more even as he got his thoughts in order.

She's bringing you to Shepard now. Keep cool, Vakarian, it's nearly over.

"We took the stairs to get down here," Liara muttered as Miranda walked past them all to enter the apartment's main living room. "We can just-"

"No, you can't," Lawson cut her off. "The stairwells to the floor she's on were hit during the attack, they're inaccessible. Descending further down the tower requires the elevators."

"Speaking of getting hit…" Tali began as she followed Miranda out into the emptiness of the apartment, her head turning towards the gaping hole in the windows and wall. "Do you know what happened here specifically? The whole place is a mess."

"Oh, that." Miranda led the way to the apartment's door, the rest of them following right behind her even as she elaborated. "A C-Sec shuttle carrying some officers was hit and crashed into this place when the Citadel was taken. I found a great deal of husk bodies and even a dead brute in here when I scoped the place out; the officers sold their lives dearly. Most of the apartment and its contents were ruined, unfortunately. I decided to at least clear the bodies and rubbish out, if only so it might all be redone at a later point."

"You removed an entire shuttle from the interior of this place?' Liara inquired as they exited back into the foyer, heading for the doors to the elevator. "Even my biotics aren't strong enough for that."

"Not by myself, no. I told some krogan who were still stranded here that Commander Shepard's personal apartment needed a great deal of heavy debris and wreckage thrown out a window." Miranda caught the looks they all leveled at her- or the curious tilt of a helmet, in Tali's case- and a small smile briefly flickered across her lips. "What? Between curing the genophage and saving the galaxy, the krogan all hero-worship the very name of Shepard now. They were more than willing to help clear this place out when they were told it's hers."

Garrus just shook his head. Krogan… The total awe and fervent gratitude in the eyes of every one of them that he had witnessed Shepard encounter during the final days of the war was all too memorable. 'Hero-worship' wasn't even a strong enough term for it.

"Speaking of which," Miranda continued, hitting the elevator's call button as she did so. "Wrex survived the battle, and he led the krogan back to Tuchanka a few weeks ago. From what I've gathered, the surviving participants of our assault on the Collectors also made it through the war. The only unknowns were the lot of you aboard the Normandy ."

She turned to face them all as the elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Her expression was one of carefully guarded anticipation. "Considering that the ship appears to be in decent shape, I'd like to assume everyone made it, although… EDI. Did she…?"

Tali shook her head. "She's gone," the quarian whispered, still-raw sorrow audible in her voice. "We tried to bring her back, but… she's gone, Miranda."

"...I see. When the geth were all confirmed to have shut down, it didn't bode well. I still hoped…" Lawson looked away and shook her head, stepping into the elevator. "Everyone else survived, at least?"

"Yeah," Garrus curtly answered as he followed her in. "They're all with the ship, trying to sort things out with the Alliance."

"Well, that's a spot of good news. Morale has been less than stellar on this station and on Earth; having some of their heroes back might lift people's spirits."

As they all finished stepping into the elevator, which began a slow and jerking descent as Miranda had forewarned, Liara turned to the human to address her once more. "Miranda, earlier you mentioned that the secrecy you've employed was Admiral Hackett's prerogative, based on predictions of further trouble. What's the nature of the issue, and why did it necessitate hiding Shepard like this?"

"Why don't you ask Hackett himself in a moment? He's waiting downstairs as we speak."

"Ah." Liara paused for a moment, clearly caught off guard. Garrus tried to hide his own surprise; he'd not expected Hackett to personally be present.

The asari continued speaking after a moment. "Well, we did hope to find and speak with him at some point, but... what is he doing here at this very moment? It seems like it would be more sensible for him to be greeting the returning Normandy with the rest of the Admiralty."

Miranda turned to glance at Liara briefly, raising an eyebrow as she did so. "Hackett isn't exactly on the best of terms with his new contemporaries. Something like eighty percent of Alliance command was wiped out at the battle of Earth; the Reapers identified and went after key leadership in the final stage of the fight. Some of their replacements are a far cry from their predecessors, promoted out of necessity rather than merit. Many of them seem to view Hackett as an old war horse who'll be out of his depth in peacetime. That man is very alone in the galaxy, right now."

"So, what, he saw to Shepard's recovery out of some need for a familiar face to still be around?" Garrus knew the accusation was a reach, but he didn't care. He'd never really trusted politicians- and for all his military titles, Hackett was one- nor had he forgiven the man for not standing up more for Shepard over the Alpha Relay incident. They'd been kept apart for six months over that mess, and he'd spent several sleepless nights hearing about the Reaper attack on Earth and wondering if he'd lost her- all because Hackett and the rest had bowed to batarian pressure.

"No. I think he's trying to do the right thing for the woman who saved us all. It's why he's put so much effort into ensuring that she'll be able to rejoin the galaxy on her own terms. It's why he's set all else aside to be here when she awakens for good, to know that she's okay."

Miranda sounded quite confident in her assessment of the admiral's motives, and Garrus relented for the time being. She'd always been a good judge of others' character, if not her own. At the very least, he could give Hackett the benefit of the doubt when they finally spoke to the man.

Just so long as he didn't stall them from seeing Shepard as well, at least.


The elevator finally came to a halt, the doors shuddering open with some effort, and Miranda led them all out into the darkened hallway of the thirty-first floor. As Garrus followed and caught sight of the only powered up door in the place waiting on the far end, he felt a need to ask one more pressing question.

"Lawson, when you woke Shepard up before, did she seem… alright? Was she able to talk, or... remember everything, I don't know…" He gestured vaguely at his left side with his right arm, struggling to find the right words. "Will she already be aware of what was done to her, when she comes to?"

He received no reply at first as Miranda walked to the active door and began inputting a lengthy passcode, seemingly ignoring him. Garrus nearly walked up and grabbed her by the shoulder to demand an answer before she let out a long breath and finally spoke once more, the usual certainty in her voice gone.

"I can't say for certain, Garrus. The first time she awoke, she was still very disoriented and didn't seem to notice much of anything. For the most part, she just kept asking for you in a daze."

The words stabbed him in the heart. Janna had asked for him, needed him at her side, and he hadn't been there for her . The fact that he'd been stranded with the Normandy meant little at that moment as he clenched his six fingers into fists, struggling to maintain control.

"As for the second instance," Lawson continued as the door slid open before her, "she awoke in a more lucid state, but she immediately began to panic. I fear she was experiencing some painful or frightening dreams beforehand. When she caught sight of her left side during her struggle, well… it got worse, and we ended up sedating her once more. It's possible she might have thought that the whole mess was just another part of her nightmare."

"Spirits…" His fists squeezed tighter, the anger boiling up to the surface again, but it was no longer directed at Miranda. Garrus remembered all too well how the nightmares had started haunting Shepard as the war went on, how she'd tossed and turned in his arms as peaceful nights were replaced with fear and grief. The Reapers had pushed the woman he loved to her breaking point, and even if she had survived, the torment they'd inflicted on her had evidently not ended.

He must have been visibly trembling or grimacing, for a moment later he felt a hand on his left shoulder and Liara was beside him, murmuring, "It will be alright. We're here for her now."

As Miranda walked through the door and into the foyer, Tali bumped him with a hip as she moved up on his other side. "We have your back, Garrus. Let's go get our captain."

The presence of his dearest friends was comfort enough to help Garrus breathe deeply and master his emotions. Following slowly in Miranda's wake, knowing that Tali and Liara would be right behind him, he entered the foyer and rounded the corner. The door into the apartment was already wide open, and he could see a lone figure standing within a fairly empty living room, hands clasped behind their back. The dim lighting within made it difficult to perceive details with the naked eye, but Garrus' visor made up the difference.

His blue Alliance uniform as crisp as ever, brimmed cap low over his eyes, Admiral Steven Hackett turned to face the group as they all crossed the threshold of the apartment. The lines on the old man's face seemed to have deepened since Garrus had last seen him, the long scar below his right eye standing out even more now. If Miranda looked tired, then Hackett appeared to be utterly exhausted, with bloodshot eyes and an uncharacteristic sag to his shoulders.

Despite his visible weariness, the admiral managed a small, genuine smile. "Mr. Vakarian. Dr. T'Soni. Ms. Rayyah. You're all a welcome sight; it's good to have the Normandy and her crew back with us."

"Admiral." Garrus kept his tone neutral, put off by the haggard appearance of the old human. "Our welcome's been a bit strange, if you don't mind me saying."

"My apologies, Vakarian. Even with the war over, we're navigating some rough seas these days. A whole heap of problems are facing every single race. Everything that was done here was aimed at keeping Shepard uninvolved and free to recover peacefully."

"Be that as it may. Lawson here filled us in some about our commander, but we still need to see her. Now. "

Hackett paused, then nodded. "I understand the urgency. I'd have liked to further discuss the situation beforehand, but…" He stepped aside and raised a hand to indicate the far side of the apartment. "It can wait till after."

Garrus followed Hackett's gesture with his gaze, and he now saw that the entire right side of the apartment had been refitted to house a temporary operation suite. It was a chamber made up of clear glass walls housing bulky machines covered in displays and vitals monitors that pulsed steadily. He saw a half dozen individuals in medical gear exiting the suite, taking turns stepping single file through what looked like an adjacent, inactive sterilization unit.

He saw one more medical staff member standing over an operating table in the middle of the suite, adjusting and removing IVs and electrodes connected to the woman lying upon it.

Hackett was saying something else to him, or maybe it was one of his squadmates, but Garrus didn't quite register the words. A buzzing sound was rising above the rest of the noise; it dawned on him that it was a soft keening from his own sub-harmonics. His vision seemed to tunnel, all else fading away into obscurity except for the sight of her. He stumbled forward in a near-trance, one step after the other carrying him towards the glass wall between them. The human that had been disconnecting IVs looked up in alarm and froze, but Garrus didn't even notice him.

He walked up to the transparent wall and lifted one hand, pressing hard against the glass as he leaned forward to gaze at the sleeping face of Janna Shepard.

Only the right side of her freckled face was visible, the other side covered with a bandage wrap that rounded off just past her mouth. She was clothed in a simple green hospital gown, and a short blanket was draped over her lower half, both garments betraying her too-thin frame beneath. Her hair- her beautiful brown hair that had fallen nearly to her shoulders in a curly wave- was mostly gone, shorn close to her scalp. Her right arm lay limp on the side of the table, the healing scars of small incisions visible on the skin.

On her left, the sleeve of the gown hung loosely over a stump that only reached a short distance beyond her shoulder. The way the blanket creased to lay flat on the bed just above where her left knee should have been told a similar story.

Shepard's right eye was still behind her closed eyelid, the drug-induced sleep she was in appearing peaceful at least. Her breathing was slow and light, barely raising the blanket with each inhale. Garrus focused on that, on the simple fact that the woman that meant the galaxy to him was still breathing.

Hearing it from Miranda had been one thing, but now at last, he could see the truth with his own eyes. She was breathing. She was right there. She was alive.

Garru's forehead tapped against the glass as his head bowed forward, eyes closing for a long moment. The sheer relief threatened to overwhelm him all over again. (Spirits, thank you. You didn't take her away from me.)

He heard the sound of boots on the floor nearby, and when his eyes opened again Tali was at his side, staring into the quarantine chamber as well. Her entire posture drooped and her fists were clenching and unclenching, a sure sign of her own grief over the state of their commander. "Keelah…" the quarian whispered. "She's gone through so much, and now this?"

"She's alive," Garrus replied. His voice sounded strange to his own ears, a little too calm for the mess of emotion he was feeling. "That's all that matters. Anything else can be dealt with later."

"I hope so, Garrus. It's just… I've seen amputees on the Migrant Fleet. Sometimes one of my people gets a limb so badly compromised that even sealing their suit only delays the inevitable, unless they get that limb removed. A lot of them don't take it well- I mean, not that anyone can really be expected to, but..."

"Shepard will handle it."

"Garrus…"

"She'll handle it. She's strong, the strongest person you or I have ever met. Besides, prosthetics are a thing. We'll get her out of here and find someone who'll set her up, make her some new limbs that are better than her old ones ever were."

Tali just looked at him, her body language reverting to a more neutral stance. Garrus didn't know if her face might be doubtful or optimistic under her helmet; it probably wasn't difficult to see through the false confidence he was projecting. Before his squadmate could raise further doubts, Garrus pushed off the glass pane and turned towards the sterilization unit, where most of the medical staff had finished their exodus with some nervous glances his way. The last one that had been attending to Shepard beat a hasty retreat from the operation suite, hurrying after his fellows.

In a few long strides, Garrus rounded the suite and caught him by the shoulder just as he stumbled through the opening airtight seal, the other side already closed up tight. The human looked up at him, a youthful face with wide green eyes and large nose, and there was noticeable fear on his face. Garrus frowned, uncertain what had them all spooked like this. "How long until she comes around?" he asked, hoping that getting straight to the point would be most effective.

Unfortunately, that didn't seem to help; the human in his grip paled somewhat and started to stammer. "Um, Mr., uh… , sir? She should awaken… well, the estimates are maybe another few minutes, or up to ten more at most. Um, it can kind of vary depending on the patient and… the doses..." The kid trailed off as Garrus tilted his head, mandibles shifting in confusion.

"Relax, I'm not going to hurt you," Garrus assured him, removing his hand from the human's shoulder to emphasize the point. "What's your name, kid?"

"T- Terrence, sir. Second Lieutenant Terrence Marchford."

"Don't have to sir me, Terrence. I just wanted to know when she'll be up and about- and why you're all looking at me like that."

The young human froze up for a second as he visibly chewed on his cheek; the rest of the medical staff didn't seem keen on getting involved, keeping their distance from Garrus. Eventually, Marchford looked down at the floor and started speaking softly. "With all due respect, sir, you're… well, you're Garrus Vakarian, the right hand of Commander Shepard. I haven't been in the Alliance long- I joined partway through the war after the Reapers got my home- but I know to show respect to my superiors, and to legends."

Garrus squinted, wondering if he should nip that sort of talk in the bud; Shepard was the legend, not him. Before he could get a word in, though, Marchford continued talking, speaking faster as he grew nervous again. "When Ms. Lawson told us that Commander Shepard's crew was coming back, we all started worrying a bit. We didn't know if you'd all be angry with us for the operations we had to perform, or… or…"

Marchford shuffled in place, rubbing his hands together awkwardly before finally meeting Garrus' gaze once more. "I'm sorry, sir. I'm sorry for what happened to Commander Shepard, and I'm sorry for what we had to do. Ms. Lawson insisted it was necessary, and we did the best we could every step of the way. I… I hope you can believe me on that. We really did try everything."

There was a genuine apology in the human's eyes, and Garrus nodded slowly and took a step back. "I believe you, kid. Thanks for taking care of her all this time."

"I- uh…" Marchford looked away, his face growing red before he managed, "Of course, sir. Before you go in, please let the sterilization unit operate for fifteen seconds since you just arrived from elsewhere. Oh, and she'll definitely be thirsty when she wakes up; we've left some water next to the bed. That… that should be everything. It was an honor to meet you, sir."

The young Alliance medic half-ran around Garrus to rejoin his colleagues on the far side of the apartment; Garrus could hear him whispering furiously at the other medical staff, no doubt berating them for leaving him to face the big angry turian alone. Amusement briefly flashed through him, and he heard the smallest of mask-filtered laughs from behind; Tali had joined him once more. "The right hand of Shepard, hm? Seems fitting."

Garrus scoffed in reply. "A bit too much credit in a title like that. Half of our engagements, she was the only reason we survived." He turned back to the sterilization unit's entrance, which fortunately had a standard input pad; he punched in the open command, murmuring as he did so, "Come on. The kid said she'll be up soon, let's get in there."

"You go, Garrus. I'll deal with matters out here for now."

The response was so unexpected that Garrus halted in place and turned back around to stare at Tali. "What are you talking about? You and Liara both need to talk to her as much as…" He paused then, only just now realizing that Liara hadn't joined them. Scanning the bare apartment, he saw that the asari had remained beside Miranda and Hackett; from her aggressive body language, he gathered that she was in the midst of a quiet but intense argument with the pair.

"We both got to see for ourselves that she's alive," Tali stated, and he could hear the small smile behind her mask. "Of course I want to speak to her, there's so much to say! But what I want to tell her can wait, and I think the same goes for Liara. We all have jobs to do on Shepard's behalf anyway, and she shouldn't have to deal with all of us right as she wakes up."

"...Jobs, huh?"

"Liara is the Shadow Broker, and I bet you that right now she's grilling Miranda and Admiral Hackett for every bit of information they have regarding the past three months, as well as what trouble they're expecting. She'll figure out what the deal is with the secrecy around Shepard's recovery. As for me, I'm a scientist, and I agree with what you said just now. Prosthetics are a thing, so I'm going to find out everything I can from Miranda and these medical staff that worked on Shepard. I'll learn what I need to know about Janna's cybernetics and how prosthetics would interact with them, and I'm going to get my captain a new arm and leg."

The quarian reached up to poke Garrus on his armor's chestplate, hard. "You, on the other hand, are the man she loves. You can be there for her in a way no one else can, and I think you both have a lot to say to each other. Privately . We'll be right out here when you two are finished."

Between Tali's promise of aid for Shepard, and the admittedly dire need to speak to Janna alone, Garrus found that he could brook no argument. He could only huff out a breath and let his mandibles twitch upward to give her a small smile. "Thanks, Tali."

She giggled and gave him a small push towards the sterilization unit. "Go get her, 'big guy'."

Not even bothering to ask how Tali had found out that Janna called him that, Garrus turned and entered the unit. He heard the seal hiss shut behind him as the sterilizing array hummed to life, sweeping over his body in a complex pattern. Waiting out the full fifteen seconds had him impatiently gazing at Shepard's unconscious form in the suite beyond the flashing lights of the sterilizing lasers. When the process finally ran its course, the lasers all abruptly faded and the sealed door leading into the operating suite slid open.

He took a deep breath, steeled himself, and walked inside.


The strong smell of disinfectant hit him first; it was reminiscent of Huerta Memorial, a similar scent having been present during his brief visit to an injured Alenko during the war's opening days. It was uncomfortably bright in the operating suite as well, or at least it seemed that way with many white-painted machines reflecting the overhead lights. Now that he was standing inside the suite, Garrus could see how they'd clearly used a mobile unit made for field hospitals, dismantling it and fitting the thick glass walls between the apartment's floor and ceiling. It was the apartment's own lights illuminating the area, directly above the operating table in the middle of it all.

He stepped over to the table, slowly picking his way around the monitors and IV feeds that had been pushed to the sides as they were disconnected from Shepard. The floor was clear around the table she lay on, save for one small cabinet that looked like it was used to store operating tools. It was empty now, but sitting on top of it was a large glass of water, just as Marchford had promised.

Leaning against the cabinet was something the kid hadn't mentioned. Garrus recognized it as a folded wheelchair, sized for humans. It dawned on him that this was how Shepard would be expected to move about now- he'd probably have to help push her around, even.

That was a conversation he wasn't looking forward to having with her.

He pushed the thought away for the time being and walked around the table so that he stood on Shepard's right side. Ignoring the complaints of his injuries from London, Garrus slowly knelt down, one leg at a time, getting on his knees and leaning on the edge of the table with both arms. With their faces less than a meter apart, Garrus now spied the faint ends of scars peeking out from under the bandage wrap on the left side of her face. Her skin was also paler than it had once been, evidence of the months she'd spent hidden from sunlight, much as he had been.

Seeing the way Shepard lay limp on the table, the emptiness in place of her left limbs a terrible and inescapable sight, Garrus felt almost ashamed, as if he were intruding on a sight he shouldn't have witnessed. She looked small and vulnerable, so unlike the fearless soldier in N7 armor who'd led the charge towards the massive energy beam lighting up the sky above London. The sheer contrast was difficult to wrap his head around; in all the time he'd known Janna, she'd always been the ideal image of a charismatic leader and powerful warrior, leading her crew onward into the fight. The most exposed he'd ever seen her was during the precious few nights they'd gotten to spend together, their guards lowered in each other's presence, entrusting body and soul to one another.

The sight of her now, an unconscious cripple waiting to be carted away in a wheelchair, just seemed utterly wrong in every possible way.

Garrus wasn't certain what he felt as he knelt there, one minute after another, watching the woman who'd changed his life so completely sleep. Utter elation that he was at her side once more. Grief and horror at what had been done to her. Trepidation over how Shepard would react when she awoke. Fury, terror, complete emotional shutdown? How would he even begin to handle that ?

Dammit, Shepard. I don't know what to do.

He was still going round in circles of mental torment when he heard the blanket rustle, shifting against the table.

Garrus froze for a moment, and then turned his gaze towards the end of the operating table, seeing Shepard's right leg move a fraction. The stump of her left leg twitched as well, and then her hand slowly gripped the blanket laying upon her. Her head turned away from him, a quiet groan dragging itself out of her throat. He wasn't sure whether to speak up, or reach for her, or whether to even alert her to his presence at all. Paralyzed by indecision, Garrus could only watch as Shepard stirred into wakefulness, her movements sluggish and uncoordinated.

Her hand released the blanket and came up to cradle the side of her head as she made to sit upright, groaning again as she did so. She paused when she touched her scalp, hand patting here and there to feel at the shorn remains of her hair, as well as what Garrus now realized were tiny, nearly-healed scars from incisions. Shepard seemed to grow more anxious and resumed her attempt to sit up.

The effort proved to be too much for her, however, and she abandoned that plan in favor of rolling over onto her left side. This turned out to be a serious error; Shepard clearly wasn't expecting her left arm to be unavailable for balance, and she rolled too far and nearly went off the side of the table. An instant before Garrus could surge to his feet and reach out to grab her, Shepard caught herself with her remaining arm, grunting with the exertion.

With the danger passed, Garrus stayed his hand and watched as Shepard balanced on her arm for a moment, her head slowly turning down and to the left. He couldn't see her face, but he heard the sudden intake of breath and saw her body go rigid. After several long seconds of silence, she managed to push herself into a sitting position, swaying somewhat as she did so and fumbling at the blanket covering her legs. A failed first attempt to pull the cloth away was followed by a successful one, and the blanket fluttered to the floor, the stump of her left leg becoming visible as an outline under her gown, ending right above her missing knee.

Her breath quickened, sharp inhales that rose in pitch as she stared at the missing limb. His visor showed her adrenaline spiking and heart rate rising fast. Her hand came up to her face, slowly feeling at the bandages covering the left side, and then her fingers scrabbled at the edges in a desperate bid to tear the wrappings off.

Garrus was on his feet and reaching forward in an instant, three fingers wrapping gently around her wrist. "Janna," he murmured in a soft tone. "Don't."

It was Shepard's turn to freeze in place for a moment. Her arm slowly pulled away from her face, bringing his hand into her line of sight. Her face turned, gaze following his arm, and at last her eye found him. That piercing blue iris, a richer and deeper shade of blue than his own eyes, surrounded a dilated pupil that moved up and down, taking the sight of him in.

Her mouth opened, but only a croaking gasp emerged. Shepard coughed once, twice, then tried again. She could barely speak above a whisper, but he still heard her, still heard the voice that had echoed in his dreams since the war's end.

"Garrus…"

"Shepard." He couldn't help himself; his mandibles parted wide into a big smile as he felt three months of grief and anxiety start to melt away when she said his name. He let go of her wrist to instead take her hand in his, relishing the soft warmth of it that he'd missed so dearly.

"You're-" She coughed again, harder this time, and Garrus quickly reached for the nearby glass of water with his free hand. He brought it to where their fingers were laced together, making room and slipping the glass in between their hands before helping her bring the drink to her mouth. Shepard sipped at the water slowly, gulping hard to get even a small swallow down. Garrus waited patiently, helping her tilt the glass back each time, smiling like a fool all the while.

Shepard drained most of the glass before shaking her head when Garrus made to hold it to her lips again. He set the glass back on top of the cabinet as Janna took a few deep breaths to steady herself. Soon enough, she turned to look at him once more, an expression of wonder on the visible half of her face. "You're here..." she whispered, sounding as if she only half-believed it. "And it seems like we're not at a bar, so…"

He had to chuckle at that. "So we're not dead, no." Garrus reached forward with his free arm, slowly at first to give her time to react, but Shepard did not hesitate like he had before. She slid her leg off the table and turned towards him, and he released her hand to wrap her in an embrace, careful not to press her too hard against his armor. He had to lean down awkwardly to make it work, but doing so allowed Shepard to rest her head in the crook of his neck, her breath warm on his hide.

"Garrus, you're really here ..." Her voice was still raspy and muted, but he could hear her choking up now as well. She wouldn't be crying, he knew that much. In all the time that he'd known Shepard, she'd never wept once; she'd always claimed that all her tears got left behind on Mindoir. But he could still feel her trembling against him, and he held her all the closer, sub-harmonics trilling softly as he struggled to reign in his own emotions.

They remained that way for some time, and the world seemed to be shifting back to something that felt right as he held her in his arms. Shepard slid her hand across the back of his head, her touch light on his hide. "Everything after the battle's just this awful blur," she murmured in a strangled voice. "I had nightmares that the Crucible didn't work, that the Reapers captured me and were taking me apart piece by piece. I… I saw you and everyone else dying, one after another."

She released him so she could lean back and look at his face again, fear and hope filling her features in equal measure. "Just now, I wondered if this was another part of a nightmare, waking up and seeing my arm and leg gone, but now you're in front of me and I just want this to be real, Garrus. Even if it means I really did lose my-"

"Even if it does," he interrupted, cutting her off before she could finish the thought, "this is real, Shepard, and it did work. You beat the Reapers. You saved us all."

Garrus tilted his head forward, and she responded in kind; their foreheads met in a tender touch that he'd feared they might never share again. He closed his eyes and focused on the warmth and pressure through his carapace, even as he continued in a murmur, "And, you came back alive. You came back to me."

Shepard didn't reply for a moment, and when Garrus opened his eyes again he saw something close to agony flashing across her face. The expression was gone almost as soon as it appeared, and before he could say anything she smiled once more and met his gaze. "Had to, didn't I?" she whispered. "I had an order from Archangel himself."

He laughed softly, his brief concern already forgotten, and then she leaned upwards a bit, eye closed and mouth slightly parted. Garrus was only too happy to tilt his head down and allow her lips to brush across his mouth plates, shuddering at the soft touch. Their old, intimate one-two, a turian kiss and a human one. Spirits, he'd missed her.

The moment lasted until Shepard pulled back with obvious reluctance, a heady sigh escaping her. She leaned into his neck again, and he instinctively laid his jaw against the top of her head. As used as Garrus was to the softness of her hair cushioning him and tickling his hide, it was strange to feel little more than skin and short stubble against his jaw, but he didn't particularly care, not when he finally had her back.

At some point, he felt Shepard shift slightly against him to speak more clearly, and she queried, "The Reapers really were stopped? All of them?"

"From what we've seen and heard, it seems pretty certain at this point." He felt her sag with relief in his arms. "Are you feeling ok?"

"Sore all over and really tired, but... I'm alive." She sounded like she was still struggling to process that fact. "I'm alive , and… where are we?"

"The Citadel. Tiberius Towers. This section of an apartment got turned into an operating room to treat you in."

Shepard's head turned under his jaw, evidently eyeing the glass panes of the suite and the wooden walls surrounding it. "Well, that explains the odd layout." After a moment of silence, she asked in a nervous tone, "What about the Normandy? The crew? Did everyone make it?"

"We all-" he cut his reply off before he could commit a grave error and give her false hope. "Well… almost all of us survived. The ship got a bit banged up, but it's fine. Just… a lot quieter now."

Shepard went still. "...EDI." Her voice was full of pained resignation.

"We tried to bring her back, Tali especially. She worked day and night for… I don't know how long. It didn't pan out; EDI was just gone." A thought occurred to him a moment later. "Wait, how did you know-?"

"I had to choose, Garrus."

"...You what?"

"I made a choice. It was the only way-" She tensed up and shook her head slowly. "I'm sorry. I don't want to think about it. Not right now."

"Ok, that's fine." He hugged her tightly and planted a kiss with his mouth plates on top of her head, feeling the shiver that went through her. He wouldn't allow his curiosity about what choice she was talking about to distract him from savoring this time with her. "We can just stay like this for a bit."

"I'd like that. Although…" She tilted her head up to look up at him once more, frowning and lifting her hand to touch the bandages on her face. "Can you help me get this off?" she requested. Her voice seemed to be growing stronger and clearer already.

"I… don't know if that's a good idea. They didn't say-"

"I don't care what anyone did or didn't say. It doesn't hurt under the bandages and I can feel that my left eye's still there. Not sure why they left me wrapped up like this, but I want to see you with both eyes."

Garrus could hazard a guess as to why, but he couldn't argue when she put it that way. He reluctantly released her and stepped away from the operating table to make some room, then reached for the edges of the bandages wrapped around her head, taking great care to not scratch her with his talons. As he worked at the cloth, he watched carefully for signs of discomfort or pain from Shepard, but she only sat patiently on the edge of the table and let him work. When he leaned down a bit to work the bandages free from the back of her head, her eye flickered to his neck and the new scars now running across his hide.

Shepard reached over the top of his chestplate and lightly touched him, running her fingers along the scars and grimacing. "How bad was it?" she asked quietly.

"Just some burns and scrapes; the concussion was only just enough to take me out of the fight in the first place. Dr. Michel had some work on her hands, but she got me up and on my feet not long after the battle. Don't even feel them anymore."

That earned him a reproachful smile. "Still as bad a liar as ever. There's a reason I ordered Vega to not goad you into Skyllian-Five, you know."

Garrus had to pause what he was doing and narrow his eyes at her, feeling rather disgruntled. "Is that why he never invited me? I honestly thought he was worried I'd take his credits."

"No such luck. You're just an awful bullshitter."

"Hmph." He finished loosening the bandages and pulled them away, one by one, strips of cloth fluttering off Shepard's head and onto the floor. When the rest of her face was finally revealed to him, Garrus tried to maintain a neutral expression on his own as he surveyed the damage.

Janna didn't appear to be fooled. "With that being said, are you about to try sugarcoating what my face looks like?"

"...No. It's not as bad as I feared, anyway." He meant it, too; his talons lightly traced a pair of healed cuts running parallel under her left eye. One veered downward, skirting around the curve of her mouth and ending just past the corner of her lips. The other continued around her face to end beneath her temple, while the scar of a third cut strayed across her forehead and ended in almost the same spot. What Garrus recognized as the marks that burns made on human skin marred parts of her cheek and the left side of her chin, as well as the skin close to her eye, dragging her eyelid down.

None of the burns looked too severe, thankfully, and her eyelid drooped only a tad lower than normal. Her left eye was very much intact, and as he brushed the remains of the bandages off of his talons, the two of them could finally lock gazes. It had always been so easy to lose himself in her piercing blue stare, and that still held true now.

"So," Shepard began, brushing her hand along the injuries on her face to feel them for herself. "What's the final verdict?"

Garrus shrugged. "A few burns and scrapes of your own. The burns are messing with your eye a bit."

"So that's what's going on up here," she muttered, gently dabbing at her left eyelid. "Hope Zaeed survived the war then. I'll need to get his plastic surgeon's contact information."

Garrus chortled, shaking his head. "I was told he did, but that probably won't be necessary. I'm pretty sure the established protocol here is to 'throw some face paint on there so no one will notice'."

It was Shepard's turn to laugh, the sound of it music to his ears, but it brought on another round of coughing. This time she leaned off the edge of the table to grab the water glass herself, tossing it back and swishing the water around in her mouth before swallowing. Her smile fading as she put the glass aside once more, she muttered, "I'm a real mess, aren't I? Down two limbs, beat up face, even my hairs gone. I can't even complain; I got to keep my life, while too many others didn't."

"I think you of all people have the right to complain, Shepard. You gave everything you could to win that war." He reached out to take her hand in both of his, gazing lovingly into her eyes. "And I don't care if you're a mess or not. Far as I'm concerned, you're still the most beautiful woman in the galaxy."

Even as her face went red, Janna let out an amused snort. "Well, look at you, Vakarian. I'm awake for ten minutes and you're already at it with the sweet talk. How long have we been apart for you to miss me that badly? A few days?"

He knew she spoke in jest, but memories of the last few months still surged forth, and his mandibles tightened against his jaw. He had to look away from her for a second, not wanting to relive that horrible period of endless waiting. Months stuck wondering if he'd lost her.

Shepard stopped smiling upon witnessing his reaction, her hand gripping his own tightly. " Shit. Garrus, how long was I actually out?"

"...Three months."

" Three-?!"

"Yeah. Miranda's had you recovering here on the Citadel for nearly all that time. We didn't know; we were stuck out in the Voyager Cluster until a few days ago, waiting for the damaged mass relays to be fixed. No way to get back here or contact anyone. No news about the rest of the galaxy… or you."

"God dammit, not again." Shepard grimaced and swept her gaze around the operation suite, as if expecting to see the medical staff surrounding them. "Thought I got a glimpse of Miranda and others at some point; I'm still trying to piece everything together here. So I've been completely out of it for months, and you..."

She looked back at him, only just now seeming to fully register his last words, and now there was horror and sorrow in her eyes. "Oh no. Garrus, were you out there all that time with no idea that I was alive?"

Garrus could only nod at first, not trusting himself to speak. When he eventually found his tongue, every sentence felt like a struggle. "We saw the Citadel starting to come apart before Joker had to get us out of there. They wanted to put your name on the wall later, and I… I couldn't do it. Couldn't assume that you were dead, and couldn't tell myself with certainty that you were alive. It would have been one thing to try and hold on to your promise that I'd never be alone, even if you'd gone on ahead of me, but not knowing at all was… way more difficult than I could have imagined."

Shepard could only shake her head as she released her grip on his hand and reached up to cup his mandible. She'd always seen through him with ease; she could probably tell just how pain he'd been in from the look he knew was on his face. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "You didn't deserve to go through that, Garrus. Please tell me you didn't push everyone away and try to bear it alone."

"I kind of did."

"Dammit, Vakarian..."

"Look, I couldn't mourn you, and pretending that everything would be alright for the crew's sake was beyond me. I've never been trapped like that before. Mostly just stayed out of the way in your cabin until Liara and Tali started showing up whenever they felt the need to check on me."

At the mention of their friends' names, Shepard's sorrowful expression lightened a fraction. "I knew I could always trust them to look out for you. Did they get you through the worst of it, at least?"

He nodded slowly. "They did. It was hard to let them in at first, but… they helped. They would get my mind off you for a while, since there was nothing I could do about the situation. Kept me honest about eating, too."

"Then I owe them a hell of a lot. How are they holding up?"

"See for yourself." He sidestepped to let her see through the glass wall behind him, and only then did Shepard seem to realize that others were present. Her eyes widened and a big smile bloomed on her face; Garrus turned his head and saw Tali bouncing on her heels on the opposite side of the apartment, waving excitedly. Liara was more reserved, but she wore a wide smile of her own as she lifted a hand towards Shepard in greeting, looking happier than Garrus had seen her since the war's end. Hackett still stood where Garrus had left him, but even the old man was grinning at the sight of Shepard awake and upright.

On the other hand, the medical staff were now filing out of the apartment, and Miranda had vanished from sight. Garrus wondered at that for a moment before he caught sight of Lawson coming down a flight of stairs on the far end of the apartment. He could see a bundle of some sort in her arms; only when she walked into the inactive sterilization unit without looking at either of them and left the bundle folded on the floor did he realize it was a uniform. The uniform of an Alliance vessel crew member, to be precise. The exact same as what Shepard had always worn onboard the Normandy .

He glanced at Janna and saw her hand falling from where she'd given a small wave to their crewmates; she was now watching Miranda exit the sterilization unit and stride across the apartment, gesturing towards the entrance as she said something to the others. The ex-Cerberus operative hadn't acknowledged Shepard in any way, and she now seemed intent on herding the others out of the place without even a backwards look. In moments, everyone else in the apartment had filed out the door, leaving the two of them alone.

Garrus figured they were being given some privacy to get Janna out of the hospital gown and into some proper clothes, but only after a few seconds did he piece the reason for Miranda's snubbing together. Shepard didn't look hurt, at least, but she certainly seemed confused as she turned to him and asked, "Any idea what that was about?"

"I think so. She made the call to take off your arm and leg. When she told us about it, she seemed very explicit that it was her decision alone."

Shepard reached across her torso with her right arm, feeling at the stump of her left and the missing space below. "So Miranda thinks I'll be pissed at her for this," she muttered.

"Wouldn't be that much of a stretch. Apparently the damage to your cybernetics couldn't be fixed; that's why they went ahead and amputated. She put those implants in your body to begin with. I'd wager she isn't looking forward to hearing what you have to say about that, and she's putting it off."

"I'll have to deal with that later, I guess," Shepard grumbled. "Won't be easy convincing her that she's not to blame."

He tilted his head, studying Janna curiously. "No animosity at all towards her?"

"Garrus, those cybernetics gave me a second chance at life after the Collectors spaced me. Miranda gave me a second chance with you that I didn't even know I needed." Her blue eyes found his own, such a look of affection within them that his heart skipped a beat. "And now she's given me a third. I'm not going to waste it being angry at the person who brought me back to you. The blame for my limbs lies with the Reapers alone."

His mandibles twitched upwards in a hint of a smile. "Shame you killed them all in one go, then. Might've been cathartic to keep a couple around as target practice. Or as more chew toys for Kalros."

That got a small grin out of Shepard as well, but hers was tinged with weariness. "Maybe, but honestly I think I've had enough of the Reapers for a lifetime. I don't need catharsis." She reached out towards him, taking hold of his hand, and he let her drag him back into another embrace. "I just need you. Only you."

The rush of emotion that swept over Garrus at that moment rendered him speechless. He'd spent three months wondering if he'd never hear Shepard's voice again, and now the sheer love in her tone was overwhelming. His sub-harmonics warbled with pure joy, a vocalization he dearly wished she could understand, but he made sure to do something she would. He took her face in his hands and kissed her with all the passion he could muster, and she responded just as eagerly, her own hand grabbing the back of his head to pull him further into the kiss.

It was bliss. It was heaven. It was Shepard, the woman who'd turned his life upside down and then come back from the dead to steal his heart. The pain and sorrow that had festered within him throughout the past few months finally vanished in the face of a simple truth.

Janna Shepard was alive, and he was back at her side.

When the need for air finally forced them to separate, Garrus was gasping and his heart raced a kilometer a minute. He felt incredibly light-headed, and if Shepard's flushed face was any indicator, she was feeling the same. Those fathomless blue eyes were fixed on him as she caught her breath, a light burning within that he'd only glimpsed in their most intimate moments. Lost in that intense gaze of hers, he spoke the words he needed her to hear without thinking twice.

"I love you."

Her face lit up with a beaming smile, and she closed her eyes and leaned forward to touch her forehead to his. "I love you too, big guy."

Hearing her say that was just as thrilling as it had been the day they confessed to each other at the top of the Presidium. He pressed his head firmly against her own, still sub-vocalizing a joyous hum. They remained there for a long while; Garrus didn't bother keeping track of time and simply relished the embrace they shared. At some point, his right hand reached around instinctively to brush hair that was no longer present. Upon realizing his error, he switched to three-fingered strokes down the back of her neck, hoping she wouldn't notice his slip-up.

As was always the case, she didn't miss a thing. Shepard let out a quiet laugh and asked, "Were you trying to stroke my hair just now?"

"Sorry," he muttered. "Old habits."

"It's fine, Garrus. It'll grow back." Her smile hadn't faded at his mishap, but it did as her eyes left his and flickered towards her left side. "Same can't be said for the rest of me, unfortunately."

"You're..." (-going to be alright), he finished in his head, but he did not speak the words. The statement seemed empty in the face of what she'd lost, and so he switched tracks mid sentence. "...aware that we've got one hell of a quarian scientist onboard the ship, right? She's already making plans to crank out some killer prosthetics for you."

"Oh, Tali…" Shepard shook her head slowly, yet she looked slightly cheered up at least. "Well, it can't hurt to let her try. Should be interesting to see what she comes up with."

"Agreed." He glanced over at the bundle of clothes lying on the other side of the glass. "We could probably stay here alone for a while, but I bet you're eager to get out of here and back to your ship."

She followed his gaze and nodded. "I think I am. Mind grabbing that uniform please?"

Garrus stood back up straight and stepped over to the suite's entrance, opening the seal and kneeling down to pick up the pile of clothes from where Miranda had left them. Plain white underwear, grey t-shirt, a midnight blue sideless leather jacket, the tall belt and long waist flaps with pouches aplenty, camo patterned pants- and a single knee high boot.

He paused upon seeing that, also noticing the cropped left sleeves of the t-shirt and jacket and a similar modification to the pants. Lawson had been well prepared, it seemed. His grip on the clothes tightened; the anger still came forth easily when he pictured a team of doctors taking a knife to Shepherd's arm and leg. Given the circumstances, he could forgo holding a grudge towards the ex-Cerberus operative, but he didn't have to like it. Forgiveness was one thing, while forgetting was another matter entirely.

As he turned back around and entered the operating suite again, the darker thoughts plaguing him were quickly replaced with embarrassment. Shepard had slipped her hospital gown off and was currently examining a patchwork of scars on her torso with delicate touches. More burn marks and what Garrus thought might be a few patches of grafted skin reached from below her chest to just above her waist on her left side. Unlike those on her face, these burns looked as if they had been rather serious.

None of it detracted from the smooth, pale allure of her body that he'd come to treasure.

"Um…" He looked away, his neck flushing with heat. "I'll just… leave these here, then."

"Garrus, you've seen me naked plenty. Don't get bashful on me now, I'm going to need some help here."

After a moment's pause, Garrus conceded with a grunt of affirmation. He placed the bundle of clothing next to Shepard and helped her fasten the bra on. Thanks to her, he had some practice with the intricacies of that particular piece of human clothing.

The rest of the uniform took some time for Janna to don. She managed to shuffle into the pants herself with some effort, but her shirt, jacket and belt all required intervention on his behalf. It wasn't all that different from the many times they'd helped each other into their armor, and the similar process eliminated some of the awkwardness.

He still refrained from directly meeting her eyes after catching a quick glimpse of her face. She wore a frustrated expression, no doubt realizing the difficulty that something as simple as getting dressed would now present, and the sight of it tore at his heart.

Once Garrus finished working her boot back and forth until it slid on and adjusting the pants leg around it, he stood back up from where he'd knelt in front of Shepard. He gave her a once over and nodded in approval. "You look good."

"Even with the scars?"

"Especially with the scars. It's a badass look." He crossed his arms and grinned at her, stating, "Trust me, I'm an expert on the subject. I had an amazing girl fall for me after I got mine."

Shepard's downtrodden appearance gave way for a coy smile of her own. "Really? You sure it was the scars that drew her in?"

"Well, it was either the rugged looks, the smooth voice, or the irresistible charm."

"Maybe it was all of the above?" Janna's eyes found his, her gaze full of loving gratitude. "Doesn't hurt that you're also always there for her when she needs you. Especially today."

Something in her voice made him wordlessly reach for her, and she grabbed his hand and pressed her cheek against it. Breathing deeply, she murmured, "I don't know what I'd have done if I'd woken up without you here. Seeing pieces of myself gone, not knowing where I was, what-" Her whole body shuddered. "What happened with the Crucible all coming back to me. It would have been too much to handle."

"But not now?" he asked quietly.

"Not now," she affirmed. "Not with you here to remind me of what I still have left."

"Glad I could help," Garrus commented in a wry voice, his mandibles twitching upward. He moved to sit down on the table next to her, and she released his hand so he could put an arm around her shoulders and plant a kiss on her head. "I'm not going to ask how you ended the war, Shepard. I can tell it wasn't pretty, and it can wait. We can just get out of here, head back to the Normandy, go somewhere far away from everything and just… heal. Move on from the war."

"I don't know if we'll get the chance, Garrus. I hope we do, but… I never really considered what the aftermath of the war would be like. Living to see it didn't seem…" She bit her lip, hard. "Sorry. I remember what we discussed in London. Please don't think for a second that I didn't mean what I said. Retirement, kids, all of it; I'd like that kind of life for us."

"Of course you meant what you said," he murmured. "You can't get enough of me."

She smacked his arm playfully and grinned, but it was a smile tinged with apprehension. "I'm serious, Garrus. When we made the push for the beam, it helped to have that dream to hold onto. Now here we are with an actual chance to make it happen- and dammit, I really do want that with you, Garrus- but I can't ignore the mess that the galaxy's probably still in, even if it's already been three months."

"I'm not saying we should ignore it, but… you already saved us, Janna. You went through hell and got burned, for all our sakes. Everyone else can pick up the pieces from here; no one in their right mind can ask any more of you."

"Well… I guess I wouldn't be of much use now, even if they did." Shepard sounded unconvinced, but she appeared to drop the line of thought for the moment. She instead looked over at the wheelchair waiting nearby, frowning as she did so. "It's going to feel weird getting wheeled around everywhere now, that's for sure."

Garrus took a moment to choose his words carefully; he could tell she was fighting down the pain and frustration that'd been visible while she was getting dressed. "It won't be for long. Tali will work around the clock for your sake. And you won't have to use it that much anyway if you just lounge in your cabin and relax- you know, like you deserve to after saving the entire damn galaxy."

"I can't exactly sit in bed 24/7, Garrus," Shepard stated. "I have to eat-"

"I'll bring you breakfast in bed, courtesy of Vega."

The sides of her lips briefly lifted upwards even as she tried again. "I'd still like to make my rounds among the crew-"

"They can take a trip up the elevator for a change if you want to talk to them."

"...Using the restroom?"

"I'll walk you there."

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Are you just spouting the first answer you can think of for everything?"

"Yeah, I am. But that doesn't mean I'm joking," Garrus declared. "You've been looking out for me since we met, Shepard. You got me out of a dead end C-Sec career, saved me on Omega, showed me a better path with Sidonis, and gave me something to fight for when we faced the Collectors and then the Reapers. It's high time you let me take care of you for a change."

"I won't be a burden for you, Garrus. For anyone."

"You never could be," he fiercely claimed. "My girlfriend got hurt, and I'm helping her out a bit while she recovers. That's all there is to it."

Shepard regarded him for a moment before allowing a faint grin to show on her face. "I can tell you're not going to budge on this."

"No, I'm not."

"And the fact that you'd have to stay in my cabin to look after me constantly like you're suggesting? Are you demanding that your CO share her quarters, Vakarian?"

Her teasing tone had him fighting back a smile even as he cocked his head and replied, "If you want me to take an elevator ride every time you need something, give the word. It's your ship. Just know that you'll be making your poor boyfriend tired, having me trudge up and down the ship all day."

Garrus leaned in closer to her and continued in a heated whisper, "I might even wind up too tired to help you out with some… specific needs."

Even as Shepard shivered, goosebumps showing on her skin, Garrus saw her look away from him just for a second, her eyes instead on her missing arm and leg. He saw her grin waver, some unwelcome thought clearly crossing her mind, but she mastered herself after a moment. Janna looked back at him and reached up to pat his mandible, doing her best to keep a convincing- and sultry- smile on her lips. "Well in that case, I suppose there's a bit of spare room in the cabin. Get me back there so I can see what accommodations can be made."

Deigning not to question Shepard about what he'd noticed a moment ago, Garrus instead stepped over to the side of the table to grab the wheelchair from where it lay against the cabinet. It was rather intuitive to use, fortunately; the press of a few prominent switches on the top had the wheelchair unfolding automatically, small motors whirring as the struts and handles snapped into place and the wheels were unlocked.

Giving the chair an experimental push and finding that it rolled smoothly enough along the floor, Garrus reached over with one hand to help Shepard off the operating table. She shook her head however, and instead gripped the edge of the table to keep her balance as she stepped onto the floor with her single leg. Janna spent a few moments half-hopping in place as she struggled to stay upright, before she finally steadied herself and turned to sit in the wheelchair. Forced to release her hold on the table, Shepard ended up falling heavily into the seat with an " Oof !", and Garrus hid a wince at the impact.

Neither of them said a word as Shepard sank against the back of the wheelchair. Her head drooped after a moment, and her shoulders grew hunched; Garrus knew that downtrodden posture all too well. He let Shepard collect herself before he tentatively murmured, "You all set?"

"...I'm good."

"Good." He gave the wheelchair a push and got it rolling, angling the wheels to clear the entrance of the sterilization unit. "Let's get out of here. The Normandy's waiting."

He couldn't see her face or the soured expression she likely wore, and she still sagged in her seat with her head bowed. When she whispered a short reply, however, he could hear a spark of happiness still lingering in her voice, and it gave him hope.

"Yeah. Let's go home."