The forest was rough and Lillian regretted her decision to dodge Garrus by getting undressed and swimming away from him almost immediately after she began her trek into the woods.

But she was a big girl, and she'd endured her fair share of minor to major injuries in her twenty-seven years of life, especially as the baby sister of an athletic, competitive boy. She'd practically been scraped up since birth. A few scratches on the bottom of her feet now was nothing she couldn't easily ignore, but she'd still rather have shoes.

She spent a good chunk of the day simply admiring the landscape of this foreign planet. It was lush and serene, and she didn't feel at all vulnerable in her bare skin. She came across countless plants and flowers she'd never seen before, and animals as well. She never encountered a critter much bigger than the average dog, and none of them seemed very interested in her. So by the time she found her way back to the river from earlier, she was feeling fairly full of herself for having returned unscathed, proving everyone's fears were unfounded.

The sun was just beginning to set when she swam back across the river and began hiking in the direction she thought she'd left her belongings. What she wasn't expecting to find when she got there was a turian camped out at the base of a tree, looking around through the scope of his sniper rifle, waiting for her.

Where she would normally feel irritated or mildly violated by his presence, she first felt disbelief that he'd sat there waiting for her to return all afternoon, followed by an even worse feeling of… appreciation.

She silently crept up to her belongings before asking, "Have you really been here all day?"

Garrus startled somewhat when he heard another voice next to him and lowered his gun to look up and see that it was only Shepard, dripping wet like when she'd left but making a small effort with her arms to cover herself up this time. And for once, her expression was surprisingly neutral.

"Ah… yeah," he drawled, attempting to unfold himself only to discover that he'd been sitting there much longer than he thought he had been and his joints had sort of locked into place. He stretched his legs out and rolled his neck before trying again, this time managing to successfully stand up.

Lillian stared up at him with a look he'd never seen her wear before. There was a softness in her eyes, a sort of appreciative glint that had him looking away awkwardly. It couldn't be intentional, she was probably just tired…

"Okay," she muttered, reaching down to gather her clothes into her arms and pull them on tiredly. She didn't know what to say in response that could effectively convey what she was feeling in that moment; some weird mess of kinda liking someone she otherwise disliked. The fact that he'd stayed there all day certainly displayed dedication, and she didn't know whether she was okay with that or not.

Garrus looked away while she dressed herself, unsure of whether such politeness even mattered at this point, but since she seemed less feisty than when she'd wandered off, he thought it was a good idea to be on his best behavior… Though his mind was in an entirely inappropriate place.

After she was back in her clothes, she let her arms hang loosely at her sides and cleared her throat to let him know it was okay to look. "We should probably get back to the ship, huh," she grumbled, hitching a thumb over her shoulder in the direction they'd come from earlier in the day.

Garrus turned to look at her once more and cleared his throat, beginning to nod… but something about how tame she was in that moment made him want to stay right where they were, exactly as they were, for as long as possible. He didn't want to test his limits, but well, he usually didn't have the chance. "Maybe… maybe not yet."

She quirked a brow at him, and he studied the way the fleeting light highlighted the contours of her face with shadows. Spirits, she was beautiful.

"Would you, ah…" He reached up to rub at his neck nervously, forcing himself to look at anything but her while he forced the words out of his mouth. His mandibles flicked anxiously as he continued, "… like to stay for a while and watch the rest of the sunset? We've been gone this long already…" he murmured mischievously.

Shepard twisted her mouth to the side as she considered the implications of the invitation, and for a second Garrus thought he might have another fist coming his way. But rather than unleashing a physical onslaught on him, she simply nodded her head. "Okay… Sure. Why not? We've been gone this long already," she repeated with the faintest hint of a smile pulling at her lips.

His mandibles flared open in a wide smile when he heard the words he was certain he wouldn't. "Are you sure you're really Shepard?" he joked, easing himself back down on the ground with his rifle.

"Don't make me regret this, Vakarian," she warned somewhat playfully, plopping down onto the grass next to him. She bent her knees up against her chest and leaned into them, folding her hands underneath them. Curled up, the great Commander Shepard appeared so small next to him, smaller than usual, and it made his smile grow.

"That's more like it," he joked, his subharmonics rumbling as he chuckled lightly.

They sat in silence for a long time, occasionally sneaking glances at each other but mostly keeping their eyes glued to the two enormous moons on the horizon and the stars beginning to pepper the night sky as the light slowly faded away. And after it had, they continued to sit there in the darkness, listening to the noises of the forest die out until all that was left was the sound of their breathing.

Lillian was the one to eventually break the silence when she tilted her head in Garrus' direction and softly asked, "Hey Garrus… What do you think it's like out there right now? I mean, do you think it's safe?"

The turian's brow plates tilted upward at the unexpected question. He hadn't considered whether or not the Crucible was successful. He doubted many, if any, onboard the Normandy had. He'd just assumed that whatever Greg had done was enough, and the Reapers were no longer a threat. But he supposed there was a chance that it hadn't worked at all. They wouldn't know until they were off of this planet, and who knows when that would be?

"I'm… not sure," he answered truthfully. "Are you doubting your brother's efforts?" He posed the question tentatively, not wanting to put her on edge by mentioning the elder Shepard, a tender subject he knew better than to touch.

But her temper didn't flare. She just shook her head weakly. "I don't know. One thing about Greg is that he always, always finished what he started… And we all saw the beam." She took a deep breath and set her chin in the dip between her knees. "It's just hard to believe that the rest of the galaxy is in ruins when you look at this place. It doesn't seem real."

"I know what you mean…" he whispered, keeping his light blue eyes trained on her. At the risk of ending the evening on a sour note, he slowly reached over with one ungloved hand and placed three fingers on top of her five. To the surprise of them both, she didn't move away.

Silence befell them once more and they continued to sit there, enjoying the now unusual peace and quiet. Minutes or hours could have passed, Garrus wasn't sure, but eventually when he turned to look at her he noticed that her eyes had fallen shut, and her breathing was slow and rhythmic. He lifted his hand off of hers and gave her a gentle nudge, and when that failed to wake her he whispered her name loudly. When her eyelids didn't so much as flutter, he smiled softly and got to his feet. It was challenging getting her into his arms gently, especially with the awkward shape of his breastplate, but he somehow managed to lift her off of the ground and keep her from waking up. She was lighter than he expected, and after he slung his rifle over his shoulder, it was an easy hike back to the Normandy.

Many of the crew members were asleep by the time they arrived, and the ones who weren't tried their best to be discreet in their gawking. Luckily he didn't have to carry her far. It wasn't until he stepped out of the elevator onto deck three that he realized how tired he was himself. He turned for the observation deck and stopped in front of the door, gently lifting her hand up to the door panel to unlock it. When the door slid open, he carried her inside to her little makeshift bed and laid her down as carefully as when he'd picked her up.

If he was feeling a little more daring, he may have taken off her shoes or smoothed the hair out of her face. If he had any reason to believe that he wouldn't wake up missing certain important appendages in the morning, he might have laid down next to her. But instead he opted for pulling the sheets over her and leaving.

Exhaustion was weighing down on him as he made his way to the battery, but the smile on his face refused to leave. Shepard may not like him on a normal day, she might even hate him in the morning, but at least he would always have this night, and he wouldn't soon forget the feeling of having her in his arms.

It was dark.

She could feel an immense weight on top of her, pinning her down. Crushing her. She attempted to move her arms and legs, but she couldn't feel them.

Her lungs burned as she inhaled, fighting for air that seemed less and less abundant with every sharp breath.

She didn't know where she was, she only knew that it was a tight, pitch-black, uncomfortable space, and her pulse began escalating as claustrophobia set in.

She opened her mouth to call out but her throat was raw and no words made it past her dry lips.

Help… she thought. I'm stuck… I can't move…

But in the pit of her stomach, she knew no-one was coming to help her. She was trapped. No-one could save her.

Shepard awoke with a jolt, gasping for air that she was sure wasn't there. It was dark.

Panic started to grip her as she flailed herself upright, eyes darting around until she caught sight of the illuminated door panel only a few feet away. "Fuck…" she hissed, dropping her head back onto her pillows and willing her pulse to even out. She was awake. She was alive. She was on the Normandy. She was safe. But something about that dream had left an awful feeling rooted in her chest.

She shook her head, hoping to shake off the sensation that something was wrong, and her lungs emptied on a heavy sigh. She hadn't had a nightmare like that since… well, since the Reapers attacked Earth.

She frowned into her pillow as she tried to remember how she had even made it to bed. The last thing she could remember was sitting with Garrus, and… Oh.

Her stomach tossed as she considered the possibilities, the likely explanation being that he'd carried her. How chivalrous, she thought with a sneer that contradicted the knots in her stomach; a foreign feeling that she didn't know what to do with. Other than frown harder.

How embarrassing… Lillian Shepard, conking out in the woods like an exhausted kid after a day at the park, needing to be carried home and tucked in. She could throw up. But instead, heat began to spread up her neck and into her face and she groaned.

Worse than her embarrassment was the gratitude she was feeling in place of anger towards him, the same feeling she'd experienced after returning for her belongings and finding him waiting for her. It confused her and made her skin crawl. She didn't feel affection, for anyone. Least of all Garrus. But she'd felt something new sitting next to him, staring into the night sky. Something she hadn't felt in she didn't even know how long: calm.

Thrashing from one side to another to get comfortable, she eventually drew her legs up against her stomach in an attempt to quell the slight fluttering in her stomach as thoughts of the stupid, adoring looks he so frequently gave her and the feeling of his hand on hers invaded her mind.

Maybe Garrus wasn't all bad after all…
The jerk.

She took the sudden bout of restlessness as an opportunity to look through the data Dr. Chakwas had sent her, along with a message containing the results of her own bloodwork. Lillian was a fairly sufficient tech, but she'd never had much of a mind for science, or numbers. When it came to making something work or hacking, the solution simply came to her or it didn't. There was no method to her madness, so much of what she was skimming through now might as well have been written in a different language. But she got the gist of it: everyone on the ship was changing, herself included. Dr. Chakwas was slowly but surely determining how they were all changing, but there was no way to know why. Not until they could get back into space or reestablish communication.

It was a little creepy, thinking about all of their DNA shifting around. But Shepard didn't feel any different. There were no noticeable changes on or in her body as far as she knew, not like Joker or Tali… So unless terrifying dreams were a symptom, she wasn't too concerned. Yet.

"Mind if I join you?"

Garrus looked up from the dextro mush on his tray as Tali motioned to the seat across from him. She waited until he nodded approval before sitting down with her own plate of mush. Her glowing eyes creased into little half moons behind her mask, indicating that she was smiling.

"I haven't seen you in a while, Garrus," she started, forking her food with disinterest.

It was an odd statement, considering that they'd both been preoccupied working in different areas of the ship. Since the team wasn't going out on missions and each member of the crew's attention was focused on getting the Normandy off of the ground, everyone onboard was seeing a lot less of everyone else. She was making small-talk, and Garrus would rather she cut to the chase, whatever it may be.

"I've been around," he informed, his mandibles fluttering curiously. "Did you need something?"

Tali shrunk into her seat, embarrassed that she was so transparent. They knew each other better than that. She dropped her eyes to her food and shoveled it from one side of the tray to the next. "I heard you and Shepard were out pretty late…"

Garrus' browplates furrowed at the turn the conversation was taking. He couldn't imagine why Tali needed to know where he and Shepard had been, or for how long, so he simply nodded. "Yeah. It was a little harder finding the way back in the dark…" Partially true.

Tali finally dropped her utensil and began fidgeting with her hands in her lap. It was obvious that she wanted to say something but either didn't know what to say, or how to say it. "Look, Garrus… I, uh… I just think you should be careful," she whispered, leaning forward over the tabletop.

"Careful of what?" he demanded, his subvocals communicating the surprise he felt.

"Of Shepard," Tali answered nervously, looking down. "I know you care for her. A lot… But…" There was a hint of sadness in the Quarian's voice as she continued. "I just don't want you to get your hopes up, that's all. Shepard doesn't seem like the type to settle down…"

Garrus was shocked at his friend's honesty. Tali was among the few who were aware of his feelings for Shepard, but he didn't know why it was coming up now. "Well, I… Uh…" He didn't know how to respond. She was right; Shepard didn't seem like the type to settle down, but that hadn't deterred him before. He wasn't even sure he was the type to settle down. He wouldn't know until he tried... If the opportunity ever presented itself.

"And she…" Tali looked away nervously, twiddling her fingers in her lap as she debated continuing or not. "She hasn't really been the same…" she whispered, turning to face Garrus again. "Since… since…"

Tali didn't have to finish her sentence, Garrus knew exactly where it was going.

The Collector base. The suicide mission. They lost a lot of people that day… Members of the team, members of the crew… shot down, even liquefied right before their eyes. Thirteen of them had gone into the base, only seven of them had come out, and Shepard hadn't been one-hundred percent since then.

He remembered that day all too well. He could pinpoint the exact moment when the fire in her eyes was doused by defeat, and the Lillian Shepard they'd all known and admired collapsed in on herself.

"I can't believe it… I can't believe we actually made it!" Joker howled, his eyes wide with disbelief as the Normandy shot out of the Omega-4 relay.

The words rang in Shepard's ears, sending a shiver down her spine from the base of her skull to the tip of her tailbone. The entire team hadn't made it, Kelly, Gabby, they didn't make it. There were so many absent from the ship, good people who had fought and lost on her behalf.

It was her fault.

She had failed.

They knew the chance of succeeding without any casualties was slim to none when they went into the relay, but she hadn't allowed herself to believe that so many could, or would, die. Not under her command. The last person who had died under her command was Jenkins, and that felt so far away now.

Besides, they'd had no way of anticipating the geth back then. They'd known what to expect in the Collector base, she'd known; at the very least, she'd known to expect the unexpected… But she hadn't expected to lose half of her team.

"Shepard…?" Tali whispered, placing a tentative hand on the woman's shoulder. She was shaking, staring ahead with hollow eyes.

Shepard blinked and turned to look at the Quarian only to discover that more than just her glowing eyes were fixed on her. Behind Tali was Garrus, a mix of worry and melancholy written on his face; Grunt was staring from his seat against a wall not too far away with Mordin kneeling next to him, tending to some minor injuries; Zaeed was leaning against that same wall looking apathetic as ever, and Miranda… was charging at her with balled fists, her blue eyes fierce and glossy.

It wasn't often that the notoriously frosty woman lost her cool or showed much emotion at all, but the cause for her distress now was clear to everyone remaining on the ship.

"Miranda, I-" Shepard began, barely getting a word out before the other woman cut her off.

"Jacob is dead because of you!" she yelled, jabbing an accusatory finger at Shepard and blinking back tears she was too prideful to let spill.

Tali let her hand fall off of Shepard's shoulder and stayed next to her, glaring at Miranda. "Miranda, we all lost friends today… Jacob included. It isn't Shepard's fault."

"Of course it's Shepard's fault!" Miranda snapped. "As the leader, she's to be held responsible for the loss of half of our crew. This wouldn't have happened if I had been in charge," she hissed bitterly.

Shepard could only stare as the other shouted at her, confirming how incompetent she felt. She opened her mouth to speak, to defend herself, but no words came. Deep down, she felt she was right. Perhaps the team would have been in better hands with someone else as their leader, someone like Miranda, someone calculating and less impulsive than she.

But they hadn't been in more capable hands. They'd been in her hands, and she'd let them slip through her fingers. She had nothing to say for herself.

"There is no way to know that," Garrus argued on Shepard's silent behalf. Regardless of his growing adoration for the human Commander, his militant background allowed for a more practical attitude toward the outcome of the mission. The loss of a comrade is always sad, but death is inevitable, and none of them were in a particularly safe line of work. "We all chose to be here, and we all knew the risks going into that relay. Shepard did the best she could, the best any of us could have done."

MIranda turned in Garrus' direction, seemingly ready for an argument, but she stopped suddenly. She simply shook her head and shoved past Shepard as she stormed away from the group, the anger in her face dissolving into grief as she retreated into the elevator.

"She's right…" Shepard whispered, barely audible. She turned away from her remaining crew and made her way to the elevator as well, her body stiff but still trembling from head to toe. Tali and Garrus exchanged a look of concern as she disappeared from sight and Garrus sighed.

"Joker… Set course for the Citadel."

The turian looked down at his food, his appetite now gone. "Look, Tali…" he murmured, meeting her gaze briefly before looking away. "I understand your concern… But I don't want you to worry about me." Perhaps if his involvement with Shepard was something serious, something concrete, then he'd allow his friend to fret… But he was aware of Shepard's instability, and he was aware of her disdain for him, and he would cherish what pleasantness he could get from her.

"Just don't let your emotions cloud your judgment…" she muttered, looking down. "I-I mean, you never have before, but… I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything… I just don't want you to get hurt." She stood up from her seat abruptly, feeling partially ashamed and fully embarrassed.

Before she could walk off, Garrus reached out reflexively and touched her arm. "It's okay, Tali. Really. I'll be fine, I promise," he assured with a small smile. He caught the faintest smile in her eyes before she stepped away.

"Alright, Garrus…" She didn't sound convinced, but he wasn't going to push the issue. "I'll see you later," she murmured, waving awkwardly as she walked off and disappeared the way she'd come from earlier.

"Yeah," Garrus mumbled to the empty space.

A/N:

Yay, I got chapter five out in a semi-timely manner! (I think... :P)
Hope this chapter's okay. I worked on it in sections spread out over weeks, while moving from one house to another, so my thought process wasn't necessarily fluid. Buuuuut it seemed fine to me, so let me know what you guys think! The good, the bad, whatever, all critique is welcome!

Hope you guys enjoy, and thank you for reading! :)