Ok wow this took me two hours and I haven't really been getting a ton of reviews lately. Can I please have some? uwu

3

xoxo

THR

Chapter 16

Your name is Commander Armando-Owen Bailey and you don't particularly care for your first names. Commander Bailey was the abbreviation that you went by most of the time. Some of your friends still called you Captain out of habit, which you didn't mind. Your promotion was more like a demotion.

As Captain, you had regulated the Zakera Ward on the Citadel. From petty thievery to cold blooded murder, all of the crimes that had been committed used to come through you. You had a fun time during your years at C-Sec; you had made friends, enemies, and had gone through your share of some amazing adventures. Some may have called you and your policies unconventional, and you agreed with them one hundred percent.

Despite turning your head at some suspicious activities, you were fair to almost everyone who passed through your doors. Until someone wasn't able to get their job done, you were alright with letting people get by as they needed to. That sometimes meant ignoring illegal activities, which you didn't frequently feel the need to patrol.

Your promotion came as a surprise to you a few months ago. Regretfully, you packed up your items and said goodbye to your desk at Zakera Ward's front door. Instead of busting the most dastardly criminals that tainted a less than graceful part of the Citadel, you were stuck behind a desk in the Embassies section. One would think that being a commander came with extreme responsibilities and power.

However, much to your misfortune, you were no Commander Shepard.

You became more or less like a glorified office assistant for the Council. You got your own office, which was closed off and dark. The single window you had gave you a less than pristine look out into the Embassy Lobby, which was bustling with angry and distressed people. Now that the war had ended, it was quieter. This didn't mean that an angry refugee wouldn't come in once in a while, though. That was always entertaining to watch from your own personal corner of the Citadel.

You also got your own share of distraught citizens even after the conflict with the Reapers had ended. Some reporters would barge into your office on occasion and questioned why the Keepers weren't working faster to rebuild or how many unknown regions of the Citadel existed. Some political extremists came in and even threatened to shoot the Council from time to time.

You usually had them arrested and it would be the most interesting part of your day.

Now that your job was less tedious, you also had time to think about things around you. Other than your ex-wife and children back on Earth who had survived that attacks, you thought of the Citadel before it had been reconstructed.

You had been on the overhyped spaceship for more years than you could count. It had remained largely the same during your period of residence there.

However, after the rebuild, something there changed.

The Council took you aside as soon as order had been restored and when the Citadel was back in its normal location. During the initial attack on the Citadel by the Reapers, you had taken shelter with a group of refugees. Your chances of survival had been slim. Divine intervention was your reasoning behind your survival.

"Keep things as normal as possible as we work with the Keepers to rebuild" they had said.

And, as soon as the attack had begun, it had ended and the Council had things running like normal. They had you back in your office handling calls about safety so they wouldn't have to do it. They spent their times locked in their chambers, and not even you knew what they were discussing.

"Business as usual" was what they had liked to call it.

Everyone else knew better than to call it that.

Within a few months the Citadel was looking normal again. The Presidium had been restored entirely, as well as the entire fleet.

On your commute to work, though, you still saw unsettling things.

A dead body could be seen every once in a while if you looked close enough while in a sky car. It had turned into a forgotten carcass that was lost in the unending sea of deaths that had plagued the Citadel. Sometimes you caught people in the middle of the streets and wards sobbing. There was no reason behind it, either.

Tears streamed down their faces as others watched and carried on with their lives.

Some areas of the Citadel had also been sealed off. Parts that had once been heavily inhabited were now supposedly quarantined without question. If someone tried to enter, protocol said that they were to be shot on site.

If the Citadel was allegedly so perfect and recovered, then why did such drastic measures have to be taken?

You asked yourself this every single day, and today was no exception.

It was about five o'clock in the morning, and you checked your computer like you always did at about this time.

The file that popped up was one that you hadn't seen in a long time.

"COUNCIL MEETING #6871-B 2186: STATUS OF COMMANDER E. SHEPARD (REVISITED)"

The name evoked a smile from you. You had spent a lot of time with the Commander and she shared a similar mindset with you when it came to work: do whatever you need to do to get the job done.

The missions you had completed with her hadn't been large in number, but the experiences you had had with her were some of the most memorable of your action packed days on Zakera.

When you heard of her discharge many months ago, you had even dared to complain to the Council.

They had ignored you.

As you looked over the current file that was in front of you, your expression changed from content to appalled.

According to these papers, Shepard had killed two men last night.

This behavior wasn't unlike her, but you remember what the Council had ordered last time they had a hearing regarding her.

She was to be on house arrest until further notice.

You exhaled loudly and nibbled on your bottom lip. They were going to have another meeting regarding Liz Shepard's status in about an hour, and you were determined to get to the bottom of it.

Your name was Commander Bailey, and it was time to search for answers. It didn't take you long to figure out that she had been taken into custody and was in a cell right nearby.

You stood up, disregarding the rest of the work that was in front of you. There was no reason to have a war hero imprisoned. She may have killed two men, but after saving the galaxy she deserved to have some sort of pardon.

And, with that, you left to go and find the woman who you admired the most on the entire Citadel.

Your name was Liz Shepard, and your neck was naked.

With your head pressed up against a wall, you let out loud screams. Your muscles trembled and your hands clawed at your throat.

They were gone.

You felt like you were born to die. Being locked up in a cell all alone was hardly something foreign to you, but now it was different. You were isolated and teary eyed. Dog tags wouldn't be enough right now. You needed someone to remind you that life wasn't just enough anymore.

He was gone.

"Garrus! God fucking damn it, you said that you wouldn't leave!"

It had been a few hours now. Your nails had been ground down to stubs. The bleak environment around you had taken a turn for the worst.

Was it even morning yet?

You had already chosen your last words. They were going to put you to death.

You ground your palms against the ground and bit your lip.

No, they wouldn't do that.

Your name was Liz Shepard, and now you were nothing but a warm body. Last night, you had been incarcerated for killing two Turian men in a brutal manner.

This time, you weren't being let off with a slap on the wrist.

The door to your cell opened, and you expected the worst. The officers that had thrown you in had been kind, but now you were predicting a more brutal experience.

Instead, you were greeted with a more familiar face.

"Come on, Commander." he declared. "You're going to your own hearing."

Your name is Commander Shepard, and you had done it.

The Collectors were dead.

Things had changed so much since the mission had ended.

All tension had disappeared between everyone. There was no reason to be worried, and everyone spent a majority of their time chatting and having a ball. Guns no longer had to be calibrated and the engine room didn't need to be constantly supervised. The high alert attitude was officially dropped when Joker started to spent most of his time away from the helm.

Everyone else began to settle into their off-duty time with a great amount of swiftness. Plans to go home were to be postponed according to your orders. You wanted some time with your crew before they left.

You didn't want to have to face the day where you would never see this great assembly of people again. It was approaching faster than you would have liked. You took the time to interact with them now that you had more time, and your observations made you feel legitimately happy for the first time in a long time.

Mess Sergeant Gardner cooked meals all day long with a grin on his face. He had even gotten to teach some reluctant associates how to cook proper meals.

The once feared conference room no longer hosted holograms that had the likeness of the Illusive Man. Now that you had put him in his place, you allowed your crew to use it as an area to contact any family members or friends over vid chat. Tali and Legion talked to each other more often and shared their ideals.

Even the shyest members of the crew came out more.

Perhaps the most monumental event was Jack and Miranda's formal apology to each other. Despite Jack's reluctance, it was a step.

You, on the other hand, spent a lot of time in your personal cabin writing your final mission report with a certain Turian beside you. You had also learned the real meaning of "siha".

When the last week before homecoming arrived, you felt nostalgic. Watching everyone pack up their belongings was painful, but it was a necessary evil. Even you had to gather your things. Although you weren't sure of where you were going after this mission, you had some ideas in mind.

You were going to go back to the Alliance, settle down on Earth, and ask Garrus to come with you.

However, when the moment of the proposal came, it was a miracle that you could compose yourself.

You were in your private quarters and you had just finished taping up a box of things to get transferred off the Normandy. With a shaky hand, you pressed the intercom button that called the Main Battery.

"Garrus?" you asked. "If you aren't busy, would you mind coming up here?"

There was a brief pause before your boyfriend's response.

"I'll be right up."

Like a teenage girl, you paced around your room in impatience. This was going to be the defining moment in your relationship. If he denied you, you wouldn't know what you would do. If he really loved you like he said whenever he kissed you or unwound your bun, then he would accompany you on whatever your next adventure would be.

"Garrus," you said while clearing your throat. You might as well practice before you screw it up for real.

"I just want you to know that I really love you and it would be, y'know, fantastic if you came with me after we all leave. No, that sounds fake."

You stopped yourself and sat on the edge of your bed.

Time to try again.

"Garrus, I fucking love you! Move in with me! No…"

"You're one hot Turian and I want to sleep—I mean, live with you!"

The last one made you mentally slap yourself.

"Garrus, I—"

The doors to your quarters opened, and the subject of your pleas was soon in front of you. He gave you a brief laugh and then walked towards you.

"Garrus what?" he asked. Your eyes bulged out of your head and you looked up at him with total and utter embarrassment.

"You weren't supposed to hear that!" you whined. "I was…practicing something."

"Practicing? I thought you just winged it all the time."

His teasing tone haunted you.

This was not making anything easier.

After taking a deep breath, you looked at him and started talking. Hopefully at least some of it made sense.

"No, this needs practice because it's supposed to be serious. Considering that you're already here, though, I might as well take my chances."

His eyes widened a bit and he plopped down next to you.

"Go on."

"Garrus, you've…you've done something to me that I'm not sure I can explain. This thing that we have…this beautiful thing that I don't know how to describe…I don't want it to come to an end. Don't look down on me for asking this, but I was wondering if you'd be willing to come with me after we leave the Normandy. Maybe we could do something like settle down until the next mission. I don't care what we do, just as long as I'm with you."

For a few good moments all he does is stare at you.

When he didn't respond, you pulled your body up and walked away from the bed.

Yeah, you had fucked that whole thing up.

"Shepard, wait—"

The door to your bathroom slammed because of your own biotic force. You pulled yourself onto the counter where the sink was and looked down to the floor.

He didn't love you.

He couldn't love you.

It didn't take long for him to begin rapping on the door. You didn't respond.

Besides, he was only trying to contribute to the pity party.

"Liz, if you don't open this door I'll go and get Grunt to do it for me."

There was another period of silence before he continued speaking with you and you started to wonder why he was still with you.

"I don't know how to phrase this without sounding cheesy, but I don't think I could think of a better post-Collectors arrangement. Humans have a place called Heaven, don't they? Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think it would be like that place if I could accompany you off duty."

It didn't take you long to open the door after that.

When he saw your figure, he touched your shoulder and you came into his embrace.

"Heaven would be anywhere in the galaxy as long as you were with me, Garrus," you murmured. "I hope you remember that."

Those were the final words you exchanged. After that, your communication was solely through actions. He spun you around like a child and the two of you laughed and laughed while the stereo in your room echoed.

Your evening ended with the best instance of intimacy you had ever experienced.

Your name was Commander Liz Shepard, and you couldn't wait to start your new life.

/insert more sappy Lana del Rey quotes here