Exhaustion, physical, mental, and emotional pulled Val quickly into sleep. Waking was like pulling herself out of a hole, thrashing, while husks grabbed after her with cold hands as she ran, desperately.
She sat up so abruptly she nearly cracked her head on the upper bunk. Wiping both hands over her face, she tried to orient herself.
Where — oh. Garrus's little scout ship. She'd slept soundly, though the sense of restless dreams still clung to her in a haze. Fire and destruction, mass relays winking out like broken light bulbs, Reapers crashing to Earth —
Dreams like this had a certain familiarity to them, just the kind of thing she had to expect after a day of something messing with her head, like bruises after a hard fight. What did it say about her life that this sort of shit seemed routine?
Nothing good, she decided, and reached for her hairbrush. Her mouth tasted sour, and hunger clawed at her stomach. She'd fallen into bed without eating, too worn out by the enormity of everything that had happened. Breakfast would have to be a marathon this morning.
Just as she finished twisting her hair back into a knot, someone tapped at her door, in a familiar pattern.
Garrus.
Val froze for a moment, her pulse quickening. Part of her felt like the day before might have been a dream, that once she walked out of this space, they'd go right back to not knowing her any more.
There was only one way to find out.
"Hey," Garrus said, leaning against the doorframe, as if he were just casually hanging out in the corridor outside her room.
"Hey," Val replied.
"Can we talk?"
"Yeah." She stepped aside to let him in, and shut the door behind him.
This cabin allegedly could house two turians, but it seemed small for the two of them, even though Garrus was in civvies instead of armor.
Val was still in the soft shirt and pants she'd slept in, for that matter, and felt tender and exposed without the security of a uniform around her. She curled her fingers into her palms, conscious both of the privacy of the space, and of the distance between them.
Garrus said, looking around at the walls rather than at her, "You know, it feels like I should be angry with you for that evacuation bullshit."
Val stiffened, remembering that last nightmare night in London. A flash of relief that he still remembered passed quickly, and she licked her lips, trying to recall what had been going through her mind then. Mostly she remembered a haze of fear and dread — she'd been prepared to face her own fate, but she couldn't leave her injured team behind. "It was my call. I had to get you out of there."
He crossed his arms over his chest, turning his attention toward her. "You took me out."
"Yeah, I did." She straightened, firing off her reasons, crisp and bullet-like. "You and Tali were both wounded, I didn't know how badly, there was no time to take care of it in the field —"
Garrus cut her off. "Thought we promised to be there together in the end."
She bit back the rest of her justifications. Her nerves prickled defensively, but underneath, her heart pounded. He remembered. Even the bad parts.
"I know," she conceded. "I just —"
"Took it on yourself, like usual." Garrus didn't even take a full step, only leaned toward her a little, looming.
"Who was I supposed to put it on?" she demanded, her temper flaring again. "It was my call. I was in charge. I was in command and I made the decision."
"And you decided to go it alone. This is what I'm talking about, Shepard. You get a lot pinned on you, but you act like you have to do it all yourself."
She took a deep breath, trying to settle herself. "We're really going to fight about this? Now?" Revisiting that desperate night really wasn't on her to-do list for the day.
Garrus let out a soft breath. "No. Sorry. I didn't come here to argue. But this one? This Leviathan thing. We finish this together, Shepard."
She swallowed, her chest tightening. Ever since she woke up in this altered world, she'd felt out of place, cut off from the people around her. She'd relied on her partnership with Garrus for so long, not having it felt like half of herself was missing.
And yet, with him right here, promising that partnership, she couldn't stop herself from throwing up walls. "It's not that simple. What if we can't? What if one of us is hurt, or..."
"Not this time," Garrus said, spacing out the words deliberately. "We take our time and we do it right. Together."
Val closed her eyes, feeling shaky. "Garrus," she whispered. "I —"
"We both know that's not a promise we can make," he said. "I'm just telling you how it should be."
"It's not that I want to do it all on my own," she said, the words spilling out. "But sometimes I don't see another way."
With her eyes closed, she felt the warmth of his presence in her space, and his breath, before his forehead touched hers. Val sucked in a ragged breath at the familiarity of the gesture, and of the warm, rough surface of his skin. The loneliness of the last few weeks felt like a chasm, and she gave up fighting off the impulse to touch him, tipping up her face to kiss his mouth.
He responded eagerly, kissing her back the way they'd learned together: his suede-like mouth-plates pressing against her lips, soft flicks of his tongue against her mouth. She stretched up toward him — she was tall, but he'd always been taller — reached both hands up toward his neck, one side rough and scarred, the other smoother, pebbled with small scales. All the distance she'd tried to hard to maintain since she'd seen him again vanished as he pulled her in, his chest hard against her, his arms firm around her. Now that she'd started, she couldn't stop drinking him in, sliding her tongue along the edge of his mandible. The edges of his talons pricked against the bared skin of her back, as her shirt rode up and he gripped harder, nuzzling her cheek and the side of her neck, and she tipped her head to the side with a sigh.
Her stomach rumbled, loud and insistent, and they both froze, Garrus with one hand pressed against her back under her shirt. "Something you're trying to tell me, Shepard?" he inquired.
"I didn't exactly eat yesterday," Val admitted into the crook of his neck and shoulder, light-headed in more ways than one.
"Then maybe we finish this later?"
She pulled away reluctantly, knowing he was right; her overpowered biotic metabolism needed fuel if she wasn't going to pass out or lose her temper every five seconds. "Yeah. I'll, uh..."
"See you at breakfast," Garrus said, and departed.
Val blew out a breath, ruffled and frustrated, and skimmed out of her pajamas and into uniform as fast as she ever had.
Alex sat in the mess hall facing her door, already deep into a cup of coffee. He raised his eyebrows at her when she came out. Garrus was over at the sideboard preparing his own meal, but Alex had to have seen Garrus come out of her room only moments before she did.
"What?" she asked Alex in an undertone.
"Good morning to you, too," he returned.
Val looked him over warily. She'd never had to contemplate bringing Garrus home to the family. She wasn't sure she could handle the possibility of familial judgment, but if it was going to be there she wanted to know about it. "If you've got something to say, go ahead and say it."
Alex shook his head. "I do not. Third wheel's an interesting new feeling, though."
Val, about to head over to grab her own coffee and breakfast, glanced back at him with a wince, suddenly feeling guilty. "Sorry."
"Don't worry about it. You never brought anyone home, you know." Alex shrugged. "So I've never seen you with anyone. It's different."
She hesitated for a moment, wondering what different meant, and then gave up trying to parse that one on an empty stomach.
They ate with little conversation; Alex seemed content to stare into his coffee, Val focused on cramming as many calories into her mouth as she could manage, and Garrus glanced at a datapad from time to time. When Val had finally finished eating, pushing her empty plate away and slouching back in her chair with a comfortable sigh, Garrus finally spoke. "So. When we get back, what are we telling who?"
Val sighed again, this time not from satisfaction. The problem was a sticky one: Talitha and Samantha knew why they'd really gone, the Hierarchy and the Alliance had a cover story, and then there was her mother. What the Reaper had told her was hard enough for the three of them to believe, let alone anyone else, especially without more evidence than they could muster. On top of that: "We can't be certain who's already compromised by the Leviathan," she said. "I think it's better to keep this close."
Alex added, "Besides, we go around saying a Reaper told us this whole universe is a construct and jammed memories into our heads, people are going to think we're insane."
"Or indoctrinated," Garrus added.
Val shot them a tight smile. "Now you know how I've been feeling."
Alex returned a flicker of a lopsided smile before frowning at the table. Garrus's mandibles twitched. "At least we can be reasonably certain we're not all going crazy in exactly the same way."
They all chuckled, and Val leaned forward, placing both hands on the table. "Okay, let's figure out what we want to say."
They worked it around for hours, considering an assortment of alternatives: how much to say about the facility, about their encounter with Miranda, all of it. What the Reaper had shown Val, what Alex and Garrus now remembered, they agreed to keep under wraps, except for those already privy to Val's strange existence.
She'd been burned before. Insisting on the validity of the Prothean beacon's visions might have alerted the galaxy to the reality of Reapers, but it had also given Commander Shepard a reputation that hadn't always served her well. Losing credibility now could be dangerous for all of them; they were better off playing things cautiously.
There was a comfort and solidarity in talking through the problem with smart people who believed in her, but by the time they were done, all she wanted to do was hit the treadmill and run until her scurrying thoughts — Reapers, Leviathan, Garrus — wore themselves out into restful silence. Their journey didn't have much longer, at least; Garrus had headed toward the pilot's seat to monitor their approach to Terra Nova.
#
An hour later, as the shuttle eased down toward the campsite, Val felt the ship stutter for a moment.
She tensed immediately. This was supposed to be a routine landing, nothing to worry about. Before she had time to invent worst-case scenarios, Garrus called out, deliberately calm, "Shepard, could you come here for a minute?"
"What is it?" she asked, approaching the cockpit. "If there's a problem with the shuttle—"
"I'd just like to make sure you're seeing what I'm seeing. Or more accurately, what I'm not seeing."
She looked out the viewscreen, and shut her mouth, frowning. The sprawling Alliance camp she'd grown familiar with in the weeks before, gray prefab buildings and muddy trails, was nowhere to be seen. Only open ground, grassy, with a curving trail that might be a running path. No signs that hundreds of Alliance personnel had been based here only days earlier.
"Where are we?" she asked, puzzled.
"At the camp. I swear these are the right coordinates," Garrus said tightly.
"Right coordinates for what?" Alex asked, behind Val's shoulder. She shifted to the side so he could peer out the windows, too. Alex frowned and glanced at her quizzically. "What am I supposed to be looking at?"
"The camp," Garrus said, a tremor somewhere under his tightly controlled voice.
Alex's eyebrows twitched. "Well, fuck."
"Great, at least it's not just me losing my mind," Garrus said.
"What the hell," Alex muttered.
"See if you can get them on the comm," Val suggested, thinking rapidly.
"Right." Garrus reached for the communications controls. "Alliance Control, this is turian shuttle V2150, do you read?"
They waited, Val's nerves tensing, but it was only a few seconds before the reply came: "Shuttle V2150, we read you. Are you in need of assistance? You're way off course."
Relief coursed through her as Garrus said, "Ah, yeah, could you transmit correct coordinates, Alliance Control? Over."
The coordinates followed, though the person on the other end of the comm sounded vaguely suspicious. Alex murmured, "They probably think we're messing with them."
Val's lips twitched, but she couldn't quite bring herself to laugh.
The new coordinates took them to a location some six kilometers away. Peering through the viewscreen, Val thought she recognized some of the buildings: a large, squat structure that had to be HQ, another that was likely the mess hall, a few clusters of buildings that were probably the labs, or maybe the exercise facilities. She couldn't be sure from this distance. Everything looked familiar and strange at once, as if the camp had been scooped up like a set of building blocks and dumped down in a different arrangement.
It also looked as though everything had been there for a while: the paths were well trodden, people moving around at ease, the buildings grubby and set firmly in place.
"We all see this, right?" Garrus said as he steered the shuttle in. There was a grating burr in his subharmonics, a sign of discomfort. "Those were the right coordinates, I swear. I returned to the coordinates we took off from."
"I'm definitely seeing this," Val said cautiously. "Everything's... rearranged."
"So the camp just up and moved while we were away, and the old site looks completely untouched."
"Which is impossible," Alex put in, "but then what isn't, these days."
"Let's see what's going on," Val said. This wasn't the return she'd expected; this part was supposed to be routine. Things were only supposed to get complicated once they were on the ground. The unexplained anomaly had her tense, hyperaware of anything out of place.
Yet nothing seemed out of place. The shuttle landed smoothly, and the check-in process was boringly routine. Even the private who handled the paperwork looked vaguely familiar. Around them, the camp felt much as it ever had: people bustling about their business, in and out of hastily assembled prefabs that by now looked distinctly grubby, sometimes even a little dilapidated.
Her omni-tool pinged as it connected with the local comm net. When Val checked it, she found a string of messages from her mother, one from Coats, and a few others from IDs she didn't recognize. Talitha, maybe, or Traynor. She closed the list unread for the moment and hesitated, irresolute. Garrus and Alex, on either side of her, seemed equally uncertain.
"What now?" Alex asked under his breath.
"Normally I'd check in with HQ. Command probably wants a report." If she remembered the aerial view correctly, the building was now to the north.
"I'll need to make my report to the Hierarchy, too," Garrus said. "Too bad the facility was a bust. It would be nice to have more to give them."
Alex grumbled. "I don't even know where my lab is."
"Wait." Val activated her omni-tool again. Sure enough, the camp map downloaded to her 'tool was up to date. "At least we can find our way around."
They made their way toward HQ, picking their way along paths simultaneously familiar and unfamiliar. Val kept checking her omni-tool to make sure they were headed the right direction, even though they couldn't have more than a kilometer to go. She was looking down for the fifth time when a voice called out, "Hey! There you are!"
Val let the call blow by, assuming the speaker was addressing someone else, until Alex stiffened beside her. Startled by his reaction, she looked up and saw a sandy-haired young man heading toward them, waving frantically. "What's wrong?" she whispered. "Who's—"
"It's Misha," Alex hissed.
"Misha?" Val said, stunned.
"Our brother," Alex said, as if she'd forget.
She wasn't forgetting. It was more a sort of cognitive dissonance that made her stomach lurch. She'd gotten used to Alex and Mama being around — especially Alex, since they'd been spending so much time working together. She'd known her other brothers were out there somewhere, but somehow she hadn't prepared herself mentally to see another.
"How many brothers do you have?" Garrus asked in a low voice.
"Three," Val replied.
Then Misha was there, unexpectedly catching her in a solid hug.
It was... just about the perfect hug, encompassing her with the exact right amount of squeeze, even though she was stiff and unprepared for it.
He'd always given the best hugs. But then, at eight and nine and ten, he'd been the cuddliest of her brothers.
"You're back!" he said cheerfully. "You should have messaged me."
When he stepped back, she stared into his smiling face, searching for the boy she'd last known as ten. He looked older, of course, grown into the Shepard nose, his face settled into firm adult lines instead of the softer roundness he'd had as a child. But the smile was the same, wide and bright as sunshine, and the eyes, and the way a bit of fair hair curled over his forehead. Her heart thumped, and she smiled back, helplessly, the way she'd always done for him. Even after spending hours in Alex's company, she hadn't quite thought she'd see Misha again. "Hey," she said softly.
Though he was still smiling, Misha's brow creased slightly, puzzled at her reaction. Alex bailed her out, saying, "We literally landed ten minutes ago."
"You said you would, though." Misha turned to Alex with the same hug. Val noticed, bemused, that he was a couple of inches taller than Alex these days. Misha finished by offering a hand to Garrus. "Got them back safe and sound, I see."
"Ah... yeah," Garrus said, taking the offered hand. "No troubles, really."
"Great! Mama'll be glad to hear it," Misha said, smiling.
"How do you know Garrus?" Val asked before she could stop herself.
Misha gave her a puzzled look. "You introduced us before you left, remember?"
Before they left? Val had to fight to keep a neutral expression on her face. None of that made any sense.
"Right," Alex said, recovering quicker. "What have you been doing around here without us, anyway?"
Misha shrugged, falling into step as they started walking again. "Not much. I can stand guard duty, I guess, but I'm just an irregular. I'm still hoping I can get back home before much longer. The transports are all jammed up and there's not a lot of traffic heading back toward Mindoir yet." He sighed. "I just want to see for myself how things are there, you know?"
"You just want to get your hands back in the dirt," Alex said, affectionately. The warmth in his tone was so at odds with his usual cynicism that it startled Val. Mentally, she kicked herself. She really shouldn't be surprised; Alex had always had a soft spot for Misha, too.
Misha chuckled. "You got me."
"Pretty sure the dirt will still be there, no matter what."
"Yeah, but I'm not there." Misha sighed. "Maybe I can start a garden or something."
An awkward silence fell, as Val cast about for something to say to her brother. The sight of the blocky shape that had to be HQ came as a relief. She said, "We have to report in, but..."
"Yeah, I know. I'll let Mama know you're back and catch up with you at dinner, yeah?" Without waiting for a reply, Misha waved and headed off, with a bounce in his step that reminded Val of childhood.
Watching him go, Val said, "So he's... doing agriculture?"
"Like Dad, yeah. Soil science," Alex replied. He chuckled faintly. "Dad tried not to show it, but he was thrilled one of us followed in his footsteps."
Val squinted as Misha disappeared into the crowd. "Mama must be thrilled one of us stayed close to home."
Alex snorted. "That, too."
They turned to head into the building. "So when did Misha get taller than you?" Val asked Alex, nudging him with her elbow.
He narrowed his eyes in a glare. "Shut up."
"Does this mean you're the shortest one in the family?"
"Shut up."
Garrus coughed. Val grinned back at Alex, and they walked into HQ.
They'd guessed right, at least; the building actually was HQ, and they only had to wait a few minutes before being ushered into Coats's office. Val was relieved to find that he looked the same, as far as she could tell. He also recognized both them and their mission, and listened to her and Alex's well-rehearsed report with only minimal comments.
These were small things, but at this point, anything that went as she expected it to was reassuring.
"One thing you should know," Garrus said as they finished. "We encountered another team entering the facility as we left. An independent team led by Miranda Lawson."
Val kept her face still as Coats looked at Garrus, his mouth pursing in thought. "Lawson, eh? You didn't stop to see what she wanted?"
"I considered it inadvisable to engage further with Lawson's team at that time," Garrus replied blandly.
They'd agreed on this. The decision still nagged at Val; her instincts told her to cover Miranda's presence. Garrus had argued that they had no idea of Miranda's agenda or loyalties at this point. She'd reluctantly agreed, in the end, that they shouldn't leave the Alliance ignorant of what could be a Cerberus resurgence. Garrus knew Miranda better here, after all; Val had to remember that she couldn't trust Miranda they way she wanted to.
Coats grunted. "We don't want to see Cerberus back, that's for certain. We'll have to keep an eye on it. We appreciate the intel."
"It's the same as I'll tell my own superiors," Garrus said.
Coats took that in and nodded. "Appreciate the cooperation, too. Good to be able to count on one ally."
"I'd hope we could count on all of them," Val said, concerned. Was the wartime alliance falling apart already?
"Tell that to the asari," Coats muttered.
"What's going on with the asari?" Garrus asked.
"Hell if I know. They've gotten very close-mouthed over there." Coats shrugged and then seemed to collect himself. "This is not for public consumption."
"Of course," Garrus said, professionally neutral.
Val and Alex acknowledged that as well, and Coats dismissed them, running a hand over his thinning hair.
Val chewed that over as they left HQ, disquieted by the possibility of something strange going on among the asari. How many Leviathan artifacts were out there? How much were the Leviathan guiding the galaxy the way they wanted it?
"Listen," Garrus said, interrupting her thoughts. "It's not just me, right? The camp isn't supposed to be here. Your brother isn't supposed to be here."
"He sure as hell wasn't here when we left," Alex said.
"He's acting like he was here, though," Val replied.
Garrus said, "I just want to be clear. We're all seeing and hearing this, right?"
Alex only nodded, lips pressed tight together.
Val blew out a breath. "Yeah." The very ordinariness of the camp around them unsettled her, leaving her unsure whether she was being lulled into a sense of normality, or whether the ground was about to shift under her feet. Again.
At least, she reminded herself, Garrus and Alex were with her this time. She wasn't as alone as when she'd first awakened. The thought bolstered her.
"Right, then. As long as we're all seeing this." Garrus glanced at his omni-tool. "I need to get back to the turian camp. Assuming it's where I left it, anyway."
"Be careful," Val said. The plan of acting normal had seemed like a better one when everything was normal. Now she didn't know what Garrus would be walking into, and he'd be on his own in the Hierarchy camp.
"I'm always careful," he said, deadpan. And obviously lying; Val could remember plenty of times when Garrus's much-professed caution had been a myth.
He sketched a vague salute, though, and strode off, and she had to let him go with no more than a professional nod back. She watched his armored form pass by the humans on the trails, head and shoulders taller than most of them, and tried not to worry. Garrus knew how to take care of himself.
"Right." Alex frowned at the schematic on his omni-tool. "Let's go see if we can find my lab."