The crew of the Normandy might be getting recognized as heroes, but we aren't free from duty putting the Citadel back together after the battle with Sovereign. Most of the Presidium has been damaged or destroyed, and since the Normandy needs some repairs anyway, we're immediately recruited to start helping.

So much for Shepard's vacation. Although, she seems happy enough just to be crashing in my apartment and I'm never going to complain about that.

We spend most of the first couple of days apart. It's a big change after working together so closely for almost a year, but it's unavoidable. Shepard has to deal with the Council, including Udina's induction as the newest member, and I was asked to help C-Sec lead the Presidium repairs until I start Spectre training next week. I find myself missing her during the day, even though I'm keeping busy.

Going home to anyone in my apartment is a significant change since I've lived alone the entire time I've lived on the Citadel. But going home to Shepard is...a revelation. The first night, we made love at the front door the moment I walked in. The second night I got home first, and we managed to wait until the dinner table where I fucked her so hard I can't believe it didn't break.

It's the same before bed and in the morning. Neither of us can keep our hands off each other. Shepard is insatiable when she's home, and it's a struggle to let her go every morning. The more I get of her body, the more I want her, and the only reason I make it through the day is because I have some distance.

It's not perfect. Well, the sex is perfect, But my foolish heart, the one part of my body I've never had an issue keeping our of my...encounters, just can't be satisfied with the sex alone.

And Shepard is avoiding anything else.

I didn't think it was a big deal when she made excuses not to go out to dinner with me; staying in with her and getting her naked made it an easy agreement to make. When she didn't want to grab drinks at Flux with my C-Sec friends, Shepard blew off my questions. And then she blew me, which was a great distraction. It's hard to complain about anything with my dick in her throat.

But now the Normandy is leaving in two days, Shepard hasn't been seen with me in public since the day we took down Sovereign, and I have no idea what is actually going on between us.

It feels so stupid, so childish, to have to wonder if she's my girlfriend or...whatever else there is, I don't even know. But Shepard is leaving me on the Citadel for at least two months until Christmas, and then she'll get back on the ship for who knows how long.

Shepard is leaving me behind. I need to know where I stand before I say goodbye if I'm being forced to say it.

The crew of the Normandy is gathering at Flux tomorrow night for one last night together before we split up. Wrex is headed back to the Tuchanka, and Tali is finishing up her pilgrimage so she can go back to the Flotilla, both of them with big ideas for change among their people. I have no doubt they'll make it all happen. And I'm going to Spectre training so...we all have to say goodbye.

I want Shepard to go with me. Not just be present as part of the group, which I'm sure she's already planning on. I want to go together. Me and Shepard...as us. The problem is that I have to ask Shepard to go with me, and the fear of rejection is making me nauseous on my way home.

Home. That's what she called my apartment this morning. "I'll see you at home," she'd said.

I thought my heart was going to burst right out of my chest. Last year, if someone had told me that I'd want to share my apartment with someone - especially someone I was sleeping with - I would have laughed in their face. Now, in the span of a year that's gone by in the blink of an eye, I just about jumped for joy when Shepard made a comment about us having the same home.

I don't know what she's done to me or how, but I don't ever want it to stop.

Now I just have to hope that she wants it, too.

The elevator crawls up to my floor, and I trudge toward the end of the hallway, where my apartment feels like a looming presence. Every step is heavy, like walking through sand.

Shepard and I have been back and forth for a year. Tonight, I have to know for sure. No more maybes and laters and indecision. Either we're doing this or…

Or.

My mind doesn't even want to consider the possibility of an or. I want her too badly.

I swallow hard as the door whooshes open in recognition of my Omni-Tool. A fantastic scent, salty and sweet and warm, washes over me, and I can't help a smile.

Shepard cooks. She loves cooking, apparently, and she's pretty damn good at it. It was a source of frustration for her that I don't know a thing about cooking, so she hasn't learned many Turian dishes yet, but the familiar smell tells me that she's figured out at least one meal.

There's music playing, Turian rock that I also recognize, and Shepard has pretended not to like in the past, loud enough that I know she didn't hear me come in. I head for the kitchen quietly and pause at the edge of the room, taking in one hell of a view.

Shepard is freshly showered, her hair the dark color that it turns when it's wet, and wearing one of my shirts. It's long enough to mostly cover her, except that I get flashes of her ass cradled inside pink panties. Her bare legs sing to me the way Shepard hums along with the music, incredible hips swaying to the beat in front of my stove.

Damn, I could get used to this.

Despite being in my armor, I cross the room quietly and swoop in only when I'm close enough to swing my arm around Shepard and haul her back up against me. She squeaks in surprise but doesn't resist or tense, melting against me immediately.

"Welcome home," she breathes, tilting her head to the side before I can even lower my head.

"Damn good welcome, kid." I nip her ear gently and then bury my head in the crook of her neck...right where my mark would scar her soft skin. "Whatever that is smells amazing. Second best smell in this room right now."

She giggles at that, the sound warming me.

"You have time for a shower, but hurry." She spins around and leans up on her toes to nip the end of my mandible. "And don't bother putting too much on when you're done."

"Does that mean I get to take this off of you?" My hands move almost on their own, traveling over her hips and pushing her shirt - or, my shirt - up as I go to explore more of her warm skin. Shepard's eyes spark with heat, but she dances out of reach, cleverly dodging my hands and then holding me at bay.

"I'm not letting you make me burn this, big guy, I spent almost a week learning how to make it."

I pause and blink at her. "Really? You...you worked that hard to learn this? For me?"

"Well, yeah." Her cheeks flush, and she squirms a little, grabbing onto the handle of a pan like she's hoping to use it to bolster herself. "Least I can do for you letting me crash here."

"You're always welcome here, Shepard." That gets the pink I like so much on her cheeks to glow even brighter, and I relish the little burst of pride. She lets me get close again, and I press my mouth to her forehead in the closest thing I can manage to a kiss before leaning down and bumping my forehead against hers, the closest thing I have to a confession of my real feelings.

Still blushing, Shepard shoves me away. "Shower. Now."

"Yes, ma'am." Hard as it is to leave her, especially while she's not wearing pants, the shower will give me time to figure out how to ask what happens to Shepard and me next. And how to not be distracted by that whole no pants things.

Being naked does not make it easier to think. Especially not when I'm trying to think about Shepard, about how to ask her. With limited time before dinner is ready, I'm just going to have to wing it. The thought of laying her out on the table instead of dinner, devouring her like a fucking meal, and making her scream until she admits to loving me crosses my mind. Tempting as that might be, we're actually going to have to talk at some point.

Shepard will be gone in less than forty-eight hours. I'm running out of time.

"I appreciate how good you are at following orders, Vakarian," she teases, openly appraising me while she lays dishes out on my kitchen table. I don't bother to tell her that I'm almost always half-naked or more when I'm home alone; it's much more fun to be shirtless when she notices.

Shepard absolutely nailed the meal. It's almost like being in my mom's kitchen again, and I make sure she knows that I'm seriously impressed with her culinary skills. She has a back-up career if the military thing doesn't work out.

Granted, the Hero of the Citadel doesn't have to worry about her career.

"What's on your mind, big guy?" I cock my head at her, and she gives me a soft smile. "I can tell you're thinking about something. You OK?"

I try not to wince or grimace; I hadn't meant for her to notice. I sort of thought I'd get her naked, make her nuts for me, and then ask her to go to the club with me. Shepard continues to eat, but I can tell she's watching me now.

"Did you hear that everyone is getting together at Flux tomorrow?" Might as well start slowly. I'm not in any rush to get rejected.

She smiles, damn gorgeous at the thought of spending time with her friends. "Yeah, Tali called me today to make sure we were going. She was talking so fast, I'm pretty sure she was bouncing on the other end." We both laugh at our adorable Quarian friend; Tali's enthusiasm is probably my favorite thing about her.

"So...you're going?" I ask. I immediately feel like an ass for it and try not to wince when Shepard pauses to give me a deadpan stare.

"Why wouldn't I be going?" she asks with a laugh. "Did you hit your head on rubble or something today? You're being really weird."

Even while she's laughing, I can see the concern in her eyes, and she reaches over to catch my free hand. I grasp her palm and squeeze, letting the touch ground me. "No, I'm OK. I've just been...thinking."

"Careful with that, big guy," she teases.

"Settle down human," I drawl in response, grateful that she's making me laugh since it helps me avoid getting too tense. "I just, uh...I thought maybe we could go together. Like, for real together." I can't look at her now, not prepared for whatever her reaction might be.

Her fork hits the plate, and the clattering sound echoes in my head, a hollow finality to it. I drop my own fork and pull my other hand from her, instantly desperate for distance as my stomach twists.

Again. She's doing this to me again.

Or maybe at this point, I'm doing it to myself.

"Garrus...haven't you seen all the graffiti?" I blink up at her, not at all what I was expecting - and I had about a hundred excuses I thought she might use. "It's all over the Citadel, racist slurs about Turians and about humans, horrible shit about interspecies relationships."

Shepard pales while she talks about it, and then she takes a breath, like thinking about it has made her feel sick.

"The Council mentioned it yesterday," she confesses, head low. "You know how they are, gave me some bullshit about maintaining peace and having the standards of the Spectres to worry about. And then today it was Hackett. He wasn't an ass, but he noticed, and that's…" She trails off and shakes her head.

"I've seen it, yeah. Heard about it, too. It just doesn't really bother me," I confess, shrugging one shoulder. C-Sec had to dedicate a few more people to preventing property destruction in the last week, after responses to videos and pictures of Shepard embracing me when we took down Saren. It's annoying, a nuisance, but I've never let racists and xenophobes get to me.

"Really?" Shepard asks, giving me a look like she's not sure if she buys it.

"Shepard." I turn my chair toward her and grasp the rail between her legs, using the hold to turn her chair toward mine. I take her hands back and hold them, leaning forward to rest my elbows on my knees and look her directly in the eye. "What started all the graffiti?"

"You mean other than the last forty years of war and hatred?" Shepard snarks. "It was the videos that people took. After we won."

"We couldn't find you," I tell her, trying to get my voice calm. "Anderson showed up with a crew, and they dug us out, me and Tali. But the biggest pieces had fallen right where you'd been standing, we all knew it. Shepard, I thought…" My voice cracks, and I clear my throat.

She squeezes my hands tighter, hanging on every word now.

"I couldn't just accept it, couldn't assume. I had to find you, but...shit, I was so scared. What the hell would do I without you?" I reach out and tuck a hair behind her ear, catching the lobe and giving it a tug. "And then you appeared at the top of that rubble pile, and I swear you looked like the Spirits themselves had sent you. Prayers answered. I've seen the graffiti, I've heard the shit people are saying, and I don't care. I have you."

"God," she whispers like it knocked the wind out of her. Shepard reaches for me, and I let her pull me toward her. She kisses my mouth, mandibles, and forehead before giving me a deeper kiss, slipping her hand under my fringe and instantly setting me on fire.

But it doesn't distract me. I won't let it.

I take her upper arms in my hands and pull her back a little, unable to let her go far. "I need to know if there's always going to be something keeping us apart."

"What?" Shepard tenses and pulls away. Her eyes flash back and forth between mine, a frown marring her face. "You say that like I'm making excuses." When all I can do is cock my head at her, Shepard scoffs and pulls away.

My first thought is to apologize, to say whatever I have to if she'll come back. I have so little time left with her.

I've dealt with this for far too long, though.

"C'mon, Shepard. First, it was Alliance regs, then upsetting the crew. Now that neither of those matter, it's public opinion." Hearing it all out loud pisses me off, a rumble starting low my in chest and my appetite for anything other than a fight fleeing.

"Well, you'll have to pardon me if my career is important, Garrus."

I bark out a laugh when it feels like a kick in the gut. "Fine, but excuse me if I'm tired of you using your career as an excuse to treat me like a fuck buddy."

She gasps, but I get up and turn away before I can see her expression. It'll make me feel bad, and I haven't done a damn thing wrong.

"For Spirit's sake, Shepard, how long are we going to do this? How many times do we have to have this conversation?" I demand. "You told me you were mine, and now that's only true in private. It's bullshit." I finally turn back to her, finding her cheeks red like she's upset, but her arms crossed over her chest like she's angry. "Say something!"

"What do you want me to say?" she snaps, foot tapping hard and fast on my floor.

"I'm not asking for the world here, Shepard! I just don't want to have to hide anymore."

Shepard shakes her head and sighs like I'm frustrating her. "It's not that simple, Garrus. And you knew what this what when we started it."

"That's what you want to use as your defense, Shepard? You really don't feel like this has changed at all for you since we started?"

She looks away, her face flushing, and I know immediately that she's not going to answer me. She's made up her mind. And unless I'm prepared to change mine, to let things stay like this between us, I already know what has to be done.

My heart breaks the moment the thought crosses my mind, a heavy weight settling in my chest. For a moment, I can't breathe at all.

"Everything has changed, Garrus," she whispers, her voice tense. "And it scares the hell out of me."

"So, that's it? We're...done?" The words are physically hard to get out. "You're not even giving us a chance."

She doesn't answer. For a while, she doesn't move either. When she finally gets up and goes into my bedroom, I hear her gathering things. That weight inside me becomes cold, and I sit down on my couch, trying not to think about last night when we kissed here for hours or a year ago when we shared our first beer together right here.

None of it matters now.

I assume she's leaving and will go stay at a hotel or on the Normandy. She'll be fine. I'll be alone. Much of the same after the last year.

I'm already feeling broken, lost even. I don't know how to be without Shepard anymore, not after the last year together. I damn well don't want to be. But it doesn't feel like she's left me much choice. I'd do just about anything for this woman, but I can't keep sacrificing my own feelings.

"Garrus." I startle a little and jump to my feet; I was so lost in my thoughts, I didn't even hear her come back out.

Now that we're standing here, Shepard's bag over her shoulder, I feel awkward on top of everything else. I itch to pull her into my arms, drag her to the couch and convince her that I'm worthy of her love. But that's not something I can force on her. So I'm going to be alone.

Shepard doesn't look at me. It's probably for the best. If I'm going to cave for any reason, it'll be those damn eyes of hers. Her voice is soft when she finally speaks. "I'll see you at Flux tomorrow. I hope you'll still come anyway. It'd mean a lot to the crew."

"Yeah, I'll be there." And now there's just about nowhere else I want to be less in the galaxy. But I've made friends of that crew, and they deserve me showing up to drink them off.

Shepard just nods. "Thanks for letting me stay here. It's been...well, you know."

It's been fucking amazing. The best few days of my life.

"Yeah, I know. Me, too."

It doesn't make her smile. I don't know if it's not the right thing to say or if it just doesn't matter anymore. Both are probably true.

Without another word, she's gone.

Somewhere inside, I know that it won't be the last time I see her. Every other time I've thought that this was over, we've found our way back to each other. I have no doubt that she is supposed to be in my life. I just have to accept that it might not be the way I want it.

I couldn't go back to the Normandy after leaving Garrus' apartment or the next night when he didn't show up at Flux. It felt too personal. Too close to him.

Today, I have no choice. My ship is taking off, my crew needs their leader. After all, the Council is eager to send us off on Geth-chasing missions instead of taking the Reaper threat seriously.

I can't even be pissed about that. I haven't felt much of anything since leaving Garrus. There's a cold in my chest, but even that feels numb. I'm hollow. A year of the strongest emotions for another person I imagined possible, and now it's all gone. Done. Over.

All because of me.

The xenophobic graffiti around the Citadel isn't the minor issue Garrus was making it out to be. Tensions between our people have always been fragile, and I refuse to be responsible for more violence. He should know better.

But all he cared about was me. And I'm trying to convince myself that's a problem.

The walk back to the Normandy from the hotel is miserable. It would be worse if Tali hadn't spent the night with me. She delayed her trip back to the Flotilla to stay with me, to drink wine, laugh at vids, and think about anything but Garrus. That last part failed, but the company was much needed. Now I'm going back to a Normandy that's missing Tali, too.

This ship won't be the same with those of us who remain. Tali says she wants to come back eventually, but I want her to have a bigger career than working in my engine rooms. Wrex has a people to lead, and Garrus...well, Garrus will be a Spectre with a career of his own. A life of his own.

A life to share with someone who isn't me.

Numb or not, that thought sends a wave of nausea rumbling through me. I'm still trying to keep the bile out of my throat when the doors to the airlock open, and I crash into a familiar body. One that was never supposed to be on this ship again.

My heart leaps into my throat at the sight of Garrus on the Normandy. A million possibilities run through my mind - he delayed training to come with us, to see the rest of the Reaper mission out, or he's still going to training, but he needed to be OK with me first. I'd even be happy if he showed up for just one last pity fuck.

One look at his eyes, which won't meet mine, and I know the truth. He's not here for me.

"Sorry," we both mumble at the same time. Garrus rubs the back of his head and explains, "I was just...Joker wanted to say bye, so."

"OK." I want to tell him that he doesn't need an excuse or a reason. He'll always be welcome here. But I don't know if it'll hurt him more. That's the last thing I want to do.

Before I can figure out anything else to say. Garrus steps around me and walks toward the docks. I refuse to turn and watch him go, but my legs disobey the command to walk into the airlock. I stand there frozen, my body and brain locked in a battle that renders me stupid.

"Shepard." Melted chocolate ends the war, and I turn, grateful I manage not to whirl around desperately even though that's how I feel - desperate. "Be safe out there."

It's not enough, not even close, but I take it for what it is. At least he still cares.

"I will. Kick ass in training, big guy." He winces at the nickname, and I immediately regret it, but I won't apologize for it. I'm sorry for a lot of things, but that's not one of them.

Garrus nods and turns, leaving me. This time, my body lets me walk away, too, and I board my ship.

"Commander? We're ready to leave when you give the word," Joker calls over the intercom immediately. He sounds stiff, if not frustrated. Considering he barely said three words to me at Flux last night, but I caught him messaging Garrus on his Omni-Tool several times, I know my pilot has chosen a side. And I approve of his choice.

It means I don't have to pretend about my mood, either.

"No fanfare, Joker. Just get us the hell out of here."

He confirms, and I head for my quarters to drop off my bag. The doors feel ominous, the room that's been my haven for a year now taunting me with its emptiness and memories of the last time I was here was with Garrus. I wonder how long it'll be before I can stop doing that around this ship, equating everything to a memory that hurts.

No matter what the answer, it'll be too damn long.

I march into the room, deciding to allow myself a few more minutes of this pity-party before I get my ass in gear and get to work. I throw my bag aside haphazardly and cut toward my bed, throwing myself down onto it and immediately getting stabbed in the back of the head by something hard and sharp.

"Ow! What the…"

I sit up and turn, searching the blanket for the weapon that tried to maim me while rubbing the back of my head. Instead of a weapon, I find something fairly small and sparkling in the dim lights of my quarters. It takes me a minute to realize what I'm seeing after I pick it up for inspection. Then I can't see it anymore, my eyes filling with tears and blurring my vision.

The golden pin in my hand is of a small humanoid figure with wings. It's an angel.

A guardian angel, exactly like the pin my mother gave my father to wear whenever he left home for work. I remember watching her scan his uniform for it and only relax about his next voyage when she saw the pin on his collar. It was her way of feeling like they would be together, and he would be safe.

And there's only one person I've shared that with.

With trembling fingers, I clip the pin to my collar and stop trying to hold back the torrent of tears flowing down my cheeks. I'm not sure what's worse: knowing that my archangel is gone, or knowing that I've lost someone this thoughtful.

My heart finally shatters, the tenuous threads I'd used to hold it together snapping as I collapse to the pillows. For once, my career and my reputation don't cross my mind while I spend my first few hours back in active duty in tears.

For the second time in my life, I've lost my family.

It takes Shepard three days after leaving to message me with thanks for the pin. I hadn't expected it at all, so I can imagine how much effort it took for her to send it.

It takes me another full day to respond. I try to convince myself that it's because I'm exhausted from training, which is partially true. But the truth is that I don't know what to say, and I hate feeling that way with my best friend.

I wait until the following night, safe in my own apartment where at least I have beer and comfort, to respond. Even then, it's lame.

You're welcome. Figured you'd need the help.

It took me a day to come up with that. Pathetic.

And why am I teasing her? We're not supposed to be doing that anymore. At least I don't think so. We didn't set any ground rules for not being together; I don't think either of us considered it a possibility.

I never should have left the pin. It was something I bought and planned to give Shepard before the Normandy left, but I should have thrown it out after. I should have gone for a clean cut.

When my Omni-Tool rings, I almost jump out of my plates, I was so lost in my thoughts. The sight of Shepard's info on the call should not make me feel sick; a couple weeks ago, I was talking myself up about her leaving with fantasies of phone sex - something she mentioned more than once. Now…

I have no idea what to say. I'm still not cruel enough to just ignore the call. And I miss her.

And maybe I'm a masochist.

"Um...hi," I answer, definitely the lamest I have ever been.

"Hey," she replies softly. I hate that Omni-Tools always make the other person sound a million miles away. "I just...I wanted to check on you. See how training is going."

I hesitate, part of me wanting to tell her off and end the call. But the rest of me really misses talking to her. Shepard has always been so easy; I have friends on the Citadel, in C-Sec, and even guys I get along with in training, but none of them has ever been like Shepard.

I want to talk to her. And it's not like I can fall in bed with her when she's a galaxy away.

I throw caution to the wind, and we start chatting about training and her efforts to manage how much Liara and Kaidan want to talk. For a while, it's fun. And then one of us, and I don't know who, starts flirting. Instantly, the mood changes, and we're awkward, confused, hurt all over again.

I hate it. It makes me regret answering the call at all.

And yet, I do. I answer every time Shepard calls, a couple times a week. It keeps getting worse. Eventually, it gets hard to hang up for both of us. I skip opportunities to spend time with friends to make sure I get her calls. Weeks later, I haven't been on a date, haven't slept with anyone, and though I make excuses about being busy or being tired, it's because I'd rather talk to Shepard about nothing.

It's the same cycle all over again. I can feel myself falling back into it, and I can't bring myself to stop. Christmas is approaching, and I'm dying to ask Shepard if she's still coming back, if I'll still get to see her, give her the gift I already bought her and can't seem to get rid of. But I refuse to get my heart broken again.

So, I enlist some help. Orbin and a few other guys are all too eager to drag me out to Flux. I can't manage to gather any interest for the Asari or Turians who make themselves available, but at least I have someone to smack some sense into me when my Omni-Tool rings with another call from Shepard.

Smack some sense into me literally in the case of Orbin, who swats my fringe and then pins my hand to the table. "Don't. You told her you were going out tonight, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but it's late. She probably thinks I'm already home."

He rolls his eyes at me. "Vakarian, you're full of shit. You don't care why she's calling, and she doesn't care what else you're doing. But this shit isn't good for you. Do not answer that call."

I shouldn't answer her call. We should be keeping our distance. It's the best thing for me. It's probably the best thing for her, too.

Damn, I want to hear her voice.

"Pup...she dumped you," he mutters, his expression a little guilty even while his subtones are genuine and intense. "And it hurt like hell. She's using you for comfort, and that's not fair to you. Stop letting her do this. Don't answer."

He's right. I know he's right. Shepard was an amazing friend and the best lover I've ever had, but she was never going to be my girl, and we couldn't figure how to separate the two. Whatever we had needs to be done.

I don't answer the call. And then I try to pretend it's OK for the rest of the night. I have to hope it's not something I come to regret.

It's for the best that Garrus doesn't answer. I know that. But the nightmares are a hell of a lot easier to recover from when I can hear his voice.

I take a deep breath and pull the blankets up to my chin. I need sleep before we hit a Geth base tomorrow. Another reason it's good that Garrus didn't answer the call. He was out tonight with his friends, and I really shouldn't be calling him. I know that.

Maybe eventually I'll convince myself that it's good he didn't answer.

It takes a while for me to get comfortable, and then sleep finally starts to drag me under again. Before I can fall asleep, a piercing noise startles me awake and out of bed completely, my body intuitively going into a fighting stance.

There's a moment where I'm just confused and on guard, but can't figure out why. And then it hits me like a punch to the gut.

The Normandy is under attack.

***Author's Note***

I know, I know; this isn't how I wanted this one to end either. But Elle & Garrus's story is not over! Tonight, I'm also putting up the first chapter of "Into the Dark" - Garrus's time on Omega. I hope you'll stick with me and continue to enjoy. There's a lot of this love I can't wait to share with you all.

Thank you so, so much for reading and commenting and being here. This was the first fic I ever put up, and it's been an incredible experience. Can't wait to keep going!