Running Silent:

Packed Bags

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An alternate ME3. Commander Shepard and her team are on the run from Cerberus and trying to make alliances before it's too late. In a galaxy with no reaper kill switch, how can they hope to defeat something so ancient and powerful? Their last hope is a desperate plan that may cost them everything. Shepard/Garrus, other side pairings.

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Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to Bioware.

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A/N: So sorry about the delay on this chapter! I'll try to be better about posting with some kind of consistency! Thank you for reading.

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Miranda Lawson marched into the captain's quarters like a woman on a mission.

She strode purposefully past the desk and down the steps, stopping at the foot of Shepard's bed. The commander was barely visible in the tangled mass of sheets and blankets, only recognizable by the mass of matted red hair that peeked out from under the covers.

"Shepard, get up and out of that bed now," she ordered sharply. The only response was a muffled groan. A pitiful sound if there ever was one, but Miranda remained unmoved.

The XO came around the head of the bed and ripped the sheets away. She stifled a sigh. Shepard was still in her fatigues, now a rumpled mess from restless sleep.

When the commander didn't move, Miranda crossed her arms severely. "EDI," she barked. "As we discussed."

The room's lights rose to full brightness, and music came blasting through the speakers. The harsh tones grated on Miranda's nerves, but it wasn't meant to be pleasant.

Shepard pulled the pillow over her face with a moan when the music cut off, but Miranda took it from her. "Commander, you need to get out of bed this instant."

Instinct finally won out over her hangover, and Shepard, conditioned to follow orders, climbed unsteadily out of bed. The XO ran a critical eye over her. She was unnaturally pale—looked a bit green really—with dark circles under her bloodshot eyes. But this wasn't the time for sympathy. "Take a shower and come down to my office. You have fifteen minutes." She watched the commander stumble to the bathroom, only satisfied once she heard the tell-tale sound of running water.

She headed back to her office, calling out orders to Rupert on the way. She and Shepard were going to have a talk.

…

Bleary-eyed and head still pounding, Shepard made her way to Miranda's office. She had no idea what the XO wanted to discuss so damn urgently that it couldn't wait until she'd slept off her hangover.

The doors opened to reveal Miranda at her desk, chin resting on her clasped hands. The ex-Cerberus operative nodded towards a steaming mug of coffee and plate of toast in front of Shepard's usual seat. "Sit," she instructed. "Eat."

Miranda had chosen rightly—coffee and toast were about the only things Shepard could stomach at the moment. Though bewildered by her XO's actions, she did as she was ordered. As her head cleared, she realized that the other woman was silently watching her. "I assume there's a reason you brought me down here, Miranda?" she questioned, unable to mask the edge of annoyance in her voice. She really could have used the extra sleep, and Miranda knew it.

The XO stared at her levelly, and raised a manicured brow. "We need to have a talk about your reckless behavior."

Shepard looked at her incredulously, anger immediately rising up within her. "You're going to lecture me about Aratoht?" she asked, incredulous. She shot out of her seat. "Damn it, Miranda—"

"Commander." The brunette's eyes were cool and collected as she stopped Shepard's tirade. "I understand the things that need to be done."

Shepard's confusion returned as she dropped back into her seat. "Then what is this about?" she demanded, her steaming coffee now forgotten.

"I'm aware that the destruction of the relay was necessary, Shepard, but there are consequences to your actions." Her gaze was piercing. "You're sitting here, incapacitated by a hangover, while half the galaxy is out for your blood," she said harshly. "I know this is difficult, but this behavior is irresponsible and dangerous." The XO stood suddenly, pacing to calm the anger that had suddenly surfaced.

In Miranda's moment of silence, Shepard's mind reeled. What if something had happened? What if they'd been attacked by batarians or apprehended by the Alliance while she was wasted at the bar? She slammed her fist down on the desk, furious with herself.

Miranda sat down again, reaching out a hand to cover Shepard's angry fist. Their eyes met. "I'm here to help you, Shepard. We all are," she said quietly. "But you can't let this break you."

The anger fled suddenly from Shepard's mind, and she fell back against her chair. She was just so tired of all this.

Miranda pulled back to a professional distance, giving Shepard space to deal with her emotions. "Finish your coffee," she instructed gently. "And then we can discuss the plans I've come up with while you've been sleeping."

After a long moment, Shepard gave her XO a nod and picked up the mug of coffee.

…

Shepard is fine, the message read. Information on the Bahak relay explosion will be disseminated to the crew upon return. The only thing I can tell you now is that it was necessary. Please return to the Normandy as soon as you are able. We will be docking on Illium shortly for those who would like to meet us there.

Executive Officer Miranda Lawson

Garrus sighed and shut down his omni-tool. If Shepard was fine, then why didn't she answer any of his messages? His eyes fell guiltily to the door of his mother's room. He was going to have to return to the Normandy as soon as possible. He wouldn't be able to see her off.

Will she even know? he wondered, but quickly pushed that thought away. He could only hope for the best—that she would recognize him when he said goodbye, and that the goodbye itself wouldn't be their last.

He had a few things to take care of before he could leave again. He could manage his reaper task force long-distance, but he had preparations to make first. He ought to meet with them one more time to give out assignments, and his family wasn't going to be happy with him for taking off, especially after he'd told them that he would be on Palaven for a few more weeks.

But his mind was made up—he would return to the Normandy as soon as possible. Shepard needed him more than anyone at home did. He shot off a quick message to Shepard and Miranda to let them know he could meet them on Illium in three days, and then he turned to his father's study with a deep breath. He may as well tell him and get it over with.

Before he'd finished talking with his dad, Garrus already had two messages in response—one from each of the recipients.

Shepard's told him to stay with his family as long as possible, that she was fine and would see him in a few weeks. She left little room for argument. But Miranda told a different story.

No matter what Shepard says, I think she needs you with her, her message had read. We'll see you in three days.

…

Tali'Zorah vas Normandy knew better than to cry inside her enviro-suit, but she couldn't prevent a few sniffles.

She'd promised Shepard she would come back. She promised. But she knew, in her heart, that she couldn't go. Not now.

Her people were on the verge of war, and Tali might be the only one who could stop it. She and Admiral Koris were doing everything they could, and thought it didn't feel like much, it was better than nothing. It had to be better than nothing. She couldn't let this happen.

Shepard would understand her reasons, but that didn't make Tali feel better. Every time Tali had needed her, Shepard had been there. And now, when Shepard needed her most, Tali was abandoning her.

At least that was how it felt.

"I'm coming back as soon as I can, Shepard," she whispered, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall.

At the sound of footsteps, her head snapped around to see the familiar form of Kal'Reegar behind her.

"What is it, Reegar?" she asked, hating how weak her voice sounded. Weakness was not tolerated in the Migrant Fleet. Everyone did their duty. How pathetic must she seem to a soldier?

His voice was gentle. "I just wanted to check up on you, see if you were okay," he said, then cleared his throat. "Ma'am." She didn't need him to explain why he was worried. They both knew.

"I'm fine," she assured him, though they both knew better.

He placed a hand on her shoulder. "You don't have to talk about it," Reegar told her. "I just want to know that you're okay."

Tali's heart fluttered in her chest. "I…" She sighed. "I'm not fine," she said, and he waited for her to speak.

"I want to go back to the Normandy," Tali confessed. "I have to know what happened, and I think Shepard needs me." She hung her head. "The Flotilla needs me more, but I'm tired of trying to do this on my own."

When a heavy silence fell, Tali worried if it had been too much. Reegar had no idea what he was getting into with her. She had so much baggage for someone only a few years from her pilgrimage. It was no wonder that he didn't want to deal with it.

She nearly gasped when she felt a finger under the chin of her helmet, raising her up to look into Reegar's shining eyes.

"You're not alone, Tali'Zorah," he said. "I'm here if you need me. Always."

When his words hit her, she fell into his arms, unable to hold back anymore. She fogged up her helmet with tears and turned off the mic to hide the sound, but she felt lighter than she had in months.

The warmth of his arms around her seemed to make everything else fade away.

…

Garrus frowned when he saw a second set of bags by the front door.

Two bags, one for weapons and armor, another for personal effects. Both standard military issue, like the ones he carried. He lifted the hanging tag and turned it over in his hand. Vakarian, Solana, it read, along with an identification number.

He straightened up and turned, finding her standing in the doorway behind him. "Going somewhere?" he asked suspiciously. His thoughts rushed towards an inevitable conclusion—

"I'm going with you," Solana said, and those thoughts came to a crashing halt.

Brother and sister locked eyes with each other, one shocked and the other determined. "I can't just bring you along," Garrus said, finally finding his words. "And after everything that's just happened…" He paused, shaking his head. "You owe no loyalty to her. Why would you want to join up now?"

Solana's eyes never wavered. "If anything you've told me about Commander Shepard is true, then I know she only did what she had to," she told him, taking a step forward. "And I know that she won't turn down help when it's offered."

Garrus stared, stunned by her show of faith. Did she have that much trust in his judgment, even after all this time and all his mistakes? "That's… not what I expected of you, Sol."

She snorted derisively. "Let me guess—you expected me to hate her for taking you away? You expected me to selfishly demand for you to stay?" She shook her head. "I'm not the child I was when you left home, Garrus. I haven't been for a long time now."

"I know," he said, though he was only starting to truly realize it. He'd been gone a long time. Too long. By avoiding his father he'd avoided her as well, and he'd somehow missed her grow up. This could be a chance for them to get to know each other again—to continue what they'd started at home.

Garrus tried to picture his younger sister on the Normandy, interacting with the strange, motley group that Shepard called her crew. It was a pretty amusing thought, until the unbidden image of her fighting alongside him on the Collector base rose up in his mind. Fear grabbed hold of his gut.

"Sol, you can't do this," he said suddenly. "It's too dangerous." He couldn't lose her like that. Not now, not when he'd only just started to find her again.

Solana glared at him, the very picture of determination. He saw both his parents in her just then—his mother's stubbornness and his father's authority—and he knew that she wouldn't be easily denied.

"This isn't like anything you've done before," Garrus explained. "On the Normandy, we face down death daily. We went through the Omega 4 relay expecting to die. This is going to be even worse." He'd downplayed the danger before, not wanting her to worry. Now he needed her to understand.

But Solana didn't back down. Her glare softened, but she stayed where she was, gazing at him with eyes that had become solemn and irrevocably sad. "I don't want you to have to do this alone, Garrus. And I want to help."

He ran a hand across his fringe in frustration. "There are other ways to help, Sol," he argued. "And I'm not alone on the Normandy. You don't need to worry about me."

"That goes both ways, Garrus," she said firmly. "I can handle myself. Besides, like you said before, this isn't your decision. If you won't ask Shepard for me, I'll have to follow you to the Normandy and do it myself. I've already bought my ticket to Illium."

Spirits save him from frustrating sisters. Garrus tried his last angle. "What about Mom and Dad?"

Solana looked down, and Garrus felt a familiar spike of guilt in his gut. "Mom is leaving for the facility soon and won't need me. I've already spoken to them both about it."

Garrus felt his browplates rising. "Dad gave his permission?"

She pulled herself up to full height, mandibles stiffening into a set expression. "I don't need permission," she said. "From either of you."

She was right. Damn it all. Garrus rubbed a hand across his face. "Fine," he said, defeated. "I'll call her now."

He didn't miss the expression of triumph on Solana's features, but he couldn't share her feelings. It was hard enough to watch the woman he loved run headfirst into danger every day. He didn't know if he could deal with his little sister doing it too.

…

Garrus stared contemplatively at the dark screen of his terminal, parsing through the conversation with Shepard in his mind. Despite the smile that appeared on her face when she saw him, he hadn't missed the dim look in her eyes and the dark circles beneath them. He said nothing, knowing she wouldn't talk before she was ready, but the sight of it stung him nonetheless. Over and over in his mind he wondered and cursed the question—why did she go on that mission alone?

Miranda had said the destruction of the Bahak relay was necessary, and he trusted that, but he wondered if things might have gone differently if Shepard had a team at her back. Could the system have been evacuated? Could they have avoided the Alliance calling Shepard in? The answers didn't matter now—there was no changing what had happened. But Garrus couldn't help but wonder if there was anything he could have done to prevent the weight of those deaths on her shoulders.

He pushed those thoughts aside to consider Shepard's response to Solana's request. Or demand, as the case may have been. To Shepard's credit, she took the situation in stride.

"Is she as good as you?"

He shrugged. "She's not as good of a shot, but—"

"But who is?" she said, and smirked.

"She prototypes military tech for the government," he explained. "Bit of a genius, really. Built her first tactical cloak at eight years old, got into all kinds of trouble."

"Sounds like I'm going to have a veritable army of techs."

"With you around, we'll need one."

"Funny, Vakarian."

"I thought so."

After a surprisingly short conversation—"If you believe she can handle it, I trust you," she'd said—Shepard had agreed to take Solana on, with one condition. And that condition had Garrus shaking in his boots.

He had to tell his sister about his relationship with Shepard.

Garrus understood why it was necessary—nothing stayed secret on the Normandy—but he couldn't say he relished the idea. Better to hear it from him than by catching them or hearing some inappropriate comment from Joker, Shepard had insisted. Better to find out if Solana had a problem with their relationship now than during a mission. Shepard didn't need any more discord or drama on her ship.

That didn't, of course, mean that there wouldn't be discord or drama, only that Garrus would have the pleasure of facing it now. On his own. He sighed.

Garrus had begun to repair his splintered relationship with Solana, but he didn't have a clue how she'd take this news. Would she look at him with disgust and call him a deviant? Would she ask if that was the real reason he followed Shepard? Spirits, if she didn't like it, would she tell their father?

Now that was something he wanted to avoid. Forever, if possible.

He walked to his sister's door as if marching to his own execution. She opened it quickly at his knock, staring at him impatiently. "Well?" she demanded. "What did she say?"

He took a deep breath, trying to keep his voice and expression from revealing his anxiety. "She agreed, but there's something I have to tell you first."

She closed the door behind them and leaned back on it, arms crossed below her keel bone. "Well?"

He swallowed. Spirits, was it safe for his heart to beat this fast? With a lurch of dread in his stomach, he simply blurted it out. "Shepard and I are together."

Solana gaped. The seconds seemed to stretch on forever. "You and Commander Shepard?" she finally said. "But she… you're…" She blinked, at a loss for words.

Garrus felt like he should say something more, but how could he explain the way his feelings had snuck up on him? There weren't words in the galaxy for how it felt when he saw her alive on Omega, when she'd propositioned him in the main battery, or when he'd stood pacing in outside her quarters with an offering of cheap alcohol and a battered soul. How could he explain that this human hadn't stolen his heart, but earned it bit by bit over the course of their time together?

His sister saved him from fumbling explanations with a flick of her mandibles. "Spirits, I should have known," she groaned. "Of course you're together."

"But… how?" he spluttered. He was sure he hadn't let anything slip. He'd been careful.

"Garrus, you disappeared when you thought she was dead, and you never shut up about her." Wry amusement appeared in her eyes. "I thought it was just a case of serious hero worship. Spectre, savior of the Citadel and so on." She grinned. "It all makes so much sense now." Solana's eyes and mandibles widened. "Dad is going to kill you!"

Garrus winced and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I was kind of hoping you wouldn't mention it to him." He'd already worked out that his father wouldn't be pleased. A Spectre? A human? His father's mission to mold him into a respectable, upstanding turian citizen seemed like a lost cause. When he glanced back at Solana, she was holding in laughter. Sisters were evil.

Garrus sighed. Eager to lead the subject away from their father—and end this awkward conversation as soon as possible—he got to the point. "So is this going to be a problem?" he asked. "All things considered, do you still want to join up?"

The laughter disappeared, replaced with a bright and determined look. "Are you kidding?" she exclaimed. "Of course I do!"

Solana grinned over her shoulder as she opened the bedroom door. "Now come on, I don't want to miss our flight." With that, she disappeared through the doorway, leaving Garrus to scramble after her.

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