It would be weeks until Garrus heard from Victus again and when he did it was with little more than a short, curt message: Build your crew and await further orders. In that time, Shepard's progress had been minimal, much to her frustration. Karin had the reason for it just three days after they first reboarded the Normandy.
"I'm afraid the majority of your cybernetics are no longer functional, Commander," she told Shepard. "Precisely seventy-six percent of them aren't reading at all, which means they aren't producing enough nanites to repair the damage done to your body."
"That's the bad news. And the good is..." Shepard prompted, though Karin hadn't offered either choice of good or bad.
"I suppose the good news is that, at the very least, you're still healing slowly. Though, how you managed to fire a Widow in your condition, I have no idea."
"I'd say it was a healthy cocktail of adrenaline and willpower," Garrus offered, giving Shepard's knee an affectionate pat.
"The moving turian platform helped a little," Shepard added, smirking at the joke, but Garrus wasn't fooled. The news had concerned her, evidenced by the way her fingers bunched the sheet over her lap.
"Be that as it may, Commander, I'm afraid you still have a long road to recovery ahead of you." Shepard wilted and looked away from the doctor, catching Garrus' eyes briefly before settling on her hands. Karin crossed the room and laid a reassuring hand on Shepard's shoulder in a rare break from her efficient, professional persona. "And one that I'll be happy to join you on every step of the way, if you'll have me."
Shepard smiled softly, eyes still fixed on her lap, but she brought a hand up to rest it over the doctor's. "Thank you, Karin."
"It's my pleasure." Karin gave Shepard's shoulder an encouraging squeeze before she released it and crossed the floor to her terminal. She settled on the stool and began to type, speaking without looking at them. "I've taken the liberty of contacting Ms. Lawson and requested her aid in repairing your cybernetics. She agreed, of course." Karin looked away from her screen to Garrus. "You're to build a new team, isn't that right, Garrus?"
He nodded.
"Then I suggest you start with her. She's agreed to meet you at London Port."
That was Step One to rebuilding the Normandy crew.
Garrus spent a lot of his time beside Shepard's bed, reaching out to their old crewmates with her nearby to read their responses or chat with them over holo-comm. Most of those conversations were ripe with emotion at seeing the Commander alive. All of them involved a fair bit of ribbing on Garrus' behalf for him being out of contact for so long.
"Why wouldn't you talk to them after the war?" Shepard asked him later while they took their dinner together in the med-bay.
"I just... I don't know. I was busy, I guess."
"Garrus," she warned, calling his bullshit.
He answered with a deep, resigned sigh. "I don't know what you want me to say, Shepard. I..." He fixed his eyes on his plate, seeking the words he desperately needed in his unappetizing rations. "I was pretty messed up for a while. Talking to them just reminded me of..." He trailed off again, allowing the unsaid, 'you' to fill the air between them.
She didn't approve of his answer. He knew she wouldn't, but she accepted it anyway and passed it off in a joke. "Well, don't expect me to come to your rescue when you catch shit for it later, Vakarian."
"Wouldn't dream of it, Shepard."
Liara was the first to get in contact with them, having heard of Shepard's survival from the flurry of news stories that flew across the galaxy like a horde of locusts.
"Shepard," the name left her blue lips in a hushed, disbelieving breath.
"Hey, Liara," Shepard greeted her warmly, but kept an air of equanimity as she did when she expected a wave of emotion to hit her.
"I... I heard, but didn't believe." Liara shook her head despairingly, eyes already wet with unshed tears. "I swear I looked for you and once I had reestablished my contacts, I had them looking too! I can't believe I never learned- Shepard, I'm so sorry!"
"Whoa there, Liara." Shepard soothed. "It's not your fault."
"She has been this way since she heard of your survival, Commander," said the smooth, stoic tones of their old prothean companion in the background of Liara's side of communication. Apparently, the two of them had chosen to stick together once the Normandy had returned to Earth. As Garrus thought on it, he couldn't think of anywhere else Javik would go. "Perhaps if the turian had not cut out all communication."
Garrus made a show of looking down at his leg, knowing Shepard would see the gesture and reward him with a grin. He was, of course, checking to see if he had broken his leg from the proverbial bus Javik had just thrown him under.
Liara bristled at her -Friend's? Colleague's? Lover's?- condescending tone and quickly leapt to argue with the petulant living relic. Garrus found a small sense of relief in the example of how some things never change. "Oh stop it! We weren't in any place to open communications ourselves for a long time, and you know it."
"Do I know it?" Javik asked, a lilting note to the question and though Garrus couldn't see him, he could absolutely picture the insufferable way he tilted his head when he was feeling especially supercilious. "I was not aware that I did with all the perplexed base-hopping you insisted on doing for the past year."
Liara had completely turned away from Garrus and Shepard at this point to shoot her scathing retort at Javik. As she did so, Garrus didn't miss the way her eyes, now completely dried, had gone from weepy and listless to fired-up. Seeing that made him strongly suspect that Javik's less-than-friendly contribution to the conversation had been entirely intentional.
By the end of their holo-comm, Liara had offered her services and seemed all too eager to set up her base of operations aboard the Normandy once again. Javik, to no one's surprise, agreed to reboard as well, though his eagerness was more reserved or... Maybe it was reluctance. Garrus couldn't be sure.
With Liara and Javik accounted for, Garrus continued to contact the rest of the old crew one by one. Unfortunately, and as both he and Shepard expected, not all of them were able to return as easily as Liara could. They had been busy over the past year and not all of them could simply drop their current duties to go gallivanting off with them again, as much as they all wanted to.
As a Spectre, Kaidan had his own ship and crew to command now. Though, if Garrus was being honest -and he usually was, compulsively so- there was no love lost for him on that one. He still hadn't forgiven Kaidan for ordering Joker to flee from Earth and then again for insisting on having that ridiculous memorial service in which Garrus refused to place Shepard's nameplate on the wall. He refused to see her plastered on with all the other casualties.
Garrus didn't care that the male human loved Shepard too, despite her thwarting his advances on the SR-1; a fact Garrus drew a considerable amount of pride from, childish as he knew it was.
Tali, however, was a bit more of a disappointment, though he understood her decision to decline. He believed her desire to rejoin was genuine, but with all the responsibilities placed upon her in Rannoch's recolonization and the quarian's continued cooperation with the geth, her position as Admiral was paramount.
"I can't wait to come see what you've done with the place," Shepard told her, smiling fondly at the quarian's holographic appearance.
"It's wonderful, Shepard!" Tali exclaimed. "I- I have a house now. With solid ground under my feet and everything! I can't wait to show you."
Jack had deeply immersed herself into the Alliance's biotic training program as an instructor. Shepard didn't even attempt to hide the proud, almost motherly smile when they corresponded with her.
"Only you can die twice and still smile that fucking smile at me," said Jack, shaking her head. "Ever the girl-scout."
"Hey, this girl-scout is damned proud of you, Jack."
"Aw shit, Shepard. You're gonna make me get all fucking teary-eyed over here." Contrary to her words, Jack's voice didn't sound emotional, but the smirk on her face betrayed her true feelings; She was just as happy to see Shepard again as any of them were.
Garrus had been unable to reach Kasumi, but they did receive a short message from a Mrs. Smith seconds after they sent the message saying, "Can't right now, but you might hear from me later. ;)"
Jimmy, like Kaidan, had his own command as well, except he operated now as a newly declared N7 soldier. Of course, one of the members of his crew was Steve Cortez, which made them both regrettably unavailable to rejoin the Normandy.
Jacob had started a family with Brynn in one of Earth's busy cities and Samara had returned to her Justicar duty in asari space.
Grunt, however, couldn't have been happier to see Shepard again.
"SHEPAAARD!" Garrus winced at the young krogan's bellow and craned his neck away from his omni-tool in an effort to save his eardrums. He then leveled the woman in question with a flat look.
"I think he missed you."
"Grunt," Shepard nodded curtly at the the krogan's holo-visage, but her eyes were alight with mutual excitement at seeing her... -little?- tank-bred krogan. "Staying out of trouble, I hope."
Grunt grinned widely, his face was one only a mother could love. So of course Shepard did. "'Course not!" He replied in a tone that resonated all the confidence of a child that just delivered the correct answer in class.
"How's Aralakh Company?" Shepard shifted on the hospital bed, settling in for a long conversation, staring at Garrus' wrist. He made a mental note to purchase a new omni-tool for her once they'd returned to port again... and when he started getting paid again. Correspondence with the Council had been limited while they saw to the reconstruction of the Citadel and subsequently, Spectre missions were just as scarce.
"Fine," Grunt growled, making Aralakh Company's status sound anything but. He then added, "Boring."
Shepard smiled triumphantly at his answer. "Glad to hear it, because Garrus here is putting together a new crew for the Normandy and I hear there's a position open for a large, angry krogan such as yourself."
Grunt blinked. "Garrus is?"
"I'm afraid so," Garrus chimed in.
"The Normandy is Garrus' until I'm back on my feet, so yes."
"And maybe some time after," Garrus quipped, which earned him a playful glare from the little human.
"A topic for another day." The bite of her glower was numbed by her coy smile. Turning her attention back to Grunt, she said. "You'd be working under him."
"Now, I realize I'm no Battle Master, but I do offer casual Fridays as well as an endless supply of mercs that need shooting- or headbutting, or whatever method you prefer to dispatch them with. I don't know what you kids are calling it these days."
Grunt ignored him, his eyes fixed solely on Shepard. "But you'll be joining us later?"
"As soon as I'm able." She nodded. "And you know, I could use a krogan to kick me back into shape."
Grunt tipped his head back and guffawed loudly at the praise. "You got it, Shepard. I won't go easy on you either just because you're crippled." Garrus sensed a very krogan compliment in that back-handed insult. Apparently, Shepard did too, judging by the wide grin that lit up her face.
"Wouldn't have it any other way, Grunt."
Zaeed, on the other hand, required some convincing. When Garrus tried to call him, he was ignored, so he resorted to tracking the old merc down to a private residence on Earth when they next docked the Normandy. He had chosen to retire to the deserts of a place called New Mexico and when Garrus arrived he found him sunbathing on the roof of his home. Naked- A sight Garrus feared would never be scrubbed from his retinas no matter how much alcohol he would later consume.
"It's good to see you in one piece, Garrus!" The old merc hollered down from the edge of his squared rooftop, his exposed genitalia wiggling absurdly in the wind. Garrus was sure Zaeed had to be breaking a plethora of indecent exposure laws, but maybe that's why he chose to live in the middle nowhere. "Now leave! I'm retired!"
"It's good to see you too, Zaeed!" Garrus called back from the ground. "Why don't you put some clothes on and we'll have a chat."
Zaeed could have used the solar mirror he held in-hand to cover himself, but instead the old merc chose to discard it completely, abandoning it on his lounge chair. He then returned his attention to Garrus, arms crossed over his chest and said, "Seems to me my chin waggles-" Spirits, why did he have to use that word? "-just fine without the use of clothes. If you came all this way to talk, quick gawking at me, boy, and bloody talk! Quit wasting my goddamn time!"
"Fine!" Garrus relented, elevating his voice so that the human could hear him from the ground. "I'm sure you heard that Shepard's been found!"
"Might've heard that song."
"Well, I have good news for you, Zaeed. I've been made a Spectre-"
"How is that good news for me?"
Garrus allowed himself a low growl to vent his frustration, knowing the human wouldn't hear it. "If you'd let me finish! I'm a Spectre now and Shepard and I need to rebuild the crew for the upcoming missions. I thought to myself, 'what better crew could I ask for than the one I had before?'" Somehow, Zaeed in all his nude glory added absurdity to Garrus' statement. He ignored it and pushed on. "How would you like to come back to the Normandy, Zaeed?"
"No," his answer was quick and without hesitation.
"Please?"
"Oh, I do like it when they beg. No."
Garrus shifted his weight to his other leg and endeavored to look past the flaccid dick that stared down a him. "I thought you'd need some sweet-talking."
"Sweet-talk me all you want, turian. I'm retired." Zaeed turned away from the edge of the roof, presumably to lay back down on his lounge chair, but he froze at the next words to leave Garrus' mouth.
"We have a lead on a guy you might know. Goes by the name, Vido Santiago."
Zaeed slowly turned around to stare at Garrus with his one, functioning eye. The familiar rage Garrus knew all too well had ignited in full. Of course Zaeed thought his nemesis to be dead. He wouldn't be lying naked on a rooftop otherwise.
"That's impossible," he argued with a slow shake of his head. "I watched that son-of-a-bitch get carried off by a harvester, myself!"
"Well, he got away and we know that thanks to our local information broker. You met her at that party on the Citadel- Liara."
"The Shadowbroker."
Garrus winced at how easily Zaeed threw the title out and habitually scanned his surroundings for any souls within earshot. Thankfully, no one was around for miles.
"Yes. He's been awfully busy rounding up what's left of the Blue Suns in the Attican Traverse. I'm fairly certain the Council will take issue with that and they usually send their Spectres to take care of matters they have issues on. That's where I would come in and, by proxy, you. But if you're not interested..." Garrus turned and began walking back to his skycar, mentally counting down the seconds, starting at five.
'Three. Two.'
"I never work for free!" Garrus' feet instantly stopped. He took a second to quickly school the smile off his face, knowing Zaeed was a human that could read turian facial expressions with ease, before rotating on the spot to face him again.
"Welcome aboard, Zaeed."
With a Council seat officially opened to every other race, bar vorcha, the term Council Space had become muddied, the lines between Terminus and Council Space blurred. With voices of their own, races like batarians and krogan had become less likely to throw their strength behind the gangs and call the Terminus home. Of course, the gangs still existed, but their numbers were a far cry from what they had before the war. In some ways, it made the existing gangs more dangerous and unpredictable, like a wounded animal lashing out in its final death throes.
The matter was complicated further by the Attican Traverse, as it was ripe with colonies claimed by both the gangs and Council species alike, particularly the humans. The Reapers, however, turned that upside down as they didn't discriminate which colonies they utterly decimated. This left a lot of previously claimed worlds, more or less, up for grabs again and the Council was eager to take the opportunity to increase their influence and power over the Galaxy. An additional factor to press in on the Terminus' borders, as it were, was the homeworld Rannoch, located in the infamous system. Now that it was home to an official Council race, it shrank the opposing borders even more.
Predictably, the gangs and slavers that managed to survive the Reapers came crawling out of the woodwork and weren't happy to find that their previously held colonies were stripped from them. Before, the Alliance was left to deal with their less-than-friendly neighbors alone, but such wasn't the case today. Either the reformed Council had become more charitable or, and this was what Garrus suspected was the most likely reason, Victus was determined to keep Palaven's new neighbors appeased.
In either case, strife was in no short supply, which meant that once the Council had reestablished itself, the work began to flow in. Nothing the likes of which Garrus faced before as he wasn't fighting Reaper forces anymore, but it was still work he felt good doing. The Terminus Systems would always be the tempestuous hellhole it had always been and in the Galaxy's weakened state, the scum that called it home rose to take advantage any way they could.
Hitting the field with his old comrades again felt good. Sinfully good. The only thing that would have made it better was if Shepard was able to join them too. That... had become a source of conflict for them. Nothing they would argue about, of course. Shepard had improved with Miranda's expertise on her cybernetics, but she still couldn't walk on her own longer than a minute or so without her legs giving out under her own weight. She was well aware of her limitations, but therein laid the problem.
Shepard was growing evermore restless in her eagerness to join him on the field. Her frustration was boiling to the surface faster and faster, it seemed, with every mission he went on without her. Miranda and Karin did their best to talk her down and were usually successful, but there were days when his expertise was required.
"Garrus, when you're finished up down there, would you mind coming up to the med-bay?" Garrus had been crouched at the Mako's tires, securing it to the floor, when he heard Miranda's voice come in over his earpiece.
"Shepard?" He activated the code for the lock and watched as it snapped down on the vehicle's tires.
"I'm afraid so."
Garrus climbed to his feet and cast a longing look at the gun table. His precious Widow had worked hard and deserved a good cleaning, but Shepard would always be his first priority.
"I'll be right up."
When he entered the med-bay, he walked in on a scene he'd witnessed several times before. Shepard was on her feet, gripping the hand railing that lined the track she was meant to walk. She'd yet to reach the end, always becoming too tired half-way through. Today, she had made it just past that elusive half-way mark and, judging by her sweat-soaked tank top and wet hair, it had taken a great deal of effort to reach it.
"Commander." Dr. Chakwas' voice was calm, but her tone held a commanding note that she'd undoubtedly honed from years of dealing with Shepard's stubbornness. "You've already reached your goal for the day. It's all right to stop now."
Shepard only grunted for a reply. Her teeth were bared and clenched too tightly for words.
"Shepard, please," Miranda pleaded. "If you don't stop, you're only going to do more damage to yourself."
Shepard grunted again, wincing as she dragged her toe another centimeter forward. Her knuckles were white from the tight grip she held on the railings, but her hands looked unstable, wet and slippery from the sweat that ran down her scarred and freckled arms. Then her eyes found Garrus'. She held his gaze for several heartbeats before looking away to focus on the wall ahead of her. She then redoubled her efforts, forcing her other toe another hard-fought centimeter forward.
"Commander, Miranda's right. There's no reason to overdo it," said Dr. Chakwas.
She was in a lot of pain and was long past the point of trying to hide it, but as much as Garrus hated to see it, he didn't feel right trying to stop her. He understood what she was trying to do. She was trying to rush her recovery, for what little good it would do her. She knew this and didn't need Garrus in her ear telling her no, holding her back. And he refused to do so. He knew her well enough to know not to tell her she couldn't do something, but he was damn sure to be at her side for both her triumphs and failures alike. If the roles were reversed, he knew she'd do the same.
Today, he braced himself for the latter.
Garrus approached her, keeping his hands to himself and saying nothing. He watched her, taking no pleasure in her pain, but hoping she could draw some measure of comfort from his presence. She managed about two more centimeters before her legs finally gave out and Garrus rushed to catch her. It was a dance they'd done several times already and Dr. Chakwas and Miranda knew their parts in it as well. They left the room to give him and Shepard some privacy while she wept her frustrations against the cold, dirty shoulder of his hardsuit.
His heart broke when she sobbed and he reached for her hand to press it against his throat so his bondmate could feel the comforting hum of his second larynx. She held it there for a few seconds, but ultimately left the spot in favor of gripping the front of his cowl instead.
"You beat that dreaded half-way mark, Shepard," he observed, settling both her and himself into a more comfortable position on the floor. "That's good!"
"Fuck," she hissed disparagingly against his shoulder.
Her curse echoed in his head as he realized he'd said the wrong thing.
"It doesn't... It doesn't feel good."
"I know," he soothed, not knowing what else to say.
"I feel trapped."
"Trapped in here? You can leave whenever you want, Shepard. You know that."
Shepard shook her head.
"Not without help. Not without a wheelchair. Some savior of the Galaxy. I can't even take a piss on my own, Garrus!" Another sob ripped from her and she refused to meet his gaze. "I feel trapped in my own damn body. I'm stuck here when all I want is to be out there with you again. I... I want to make sure you come back because if you don't-"
"Hey." Garrus quickly cut that train of words off, squeezing her a little tighter to him. "I'm not going anywhere, Shepard. I've told you already, I'm hard to kill."
"Garrus, stop."
"You don't need me to tell you that you can't rush this. You've already improved so much. It's slow, yes, but it's not any less significant." Her shakiness began to abate and he heard her draw slow, deliberate breaths. "Do I wish you were out there with me? Spirits, I do. But you being here still brings me back, Shepard. I'm careful- ask Zaeed. It irritates the crap out of him. I don't take any unnecessary risks because at the end of the mission, I want to come back to you."
"That's not enough," she argued feebly.
"I know, but it has to be. I need you to focus on healing." He reached up to run his talons lightly along her scalp through her damp hair, feeling her shiver as he did so. "That's an order."
Shepard huffed a small laugh, a slight improvement to her mood that Garrus was happy to make into a victory. "You're given command of the Normandy for only a few weeks and you're already giving me orders now, huh?"
Garrus hmm'd, knowing she felt the vibrations against her body and silently rejoiced when he heard her chuckle softly. "Now, Shepard we both know I've been giving you orders longer than that."
At last, Shepard pulled her face from his armored shoulder and fixed him with a sideways glance. The corner of her mouth tugged ever so slightly. "Not sure if that was a sex joke or..."
Garrus canted his head a little to the side, smiling faintly for the joy of the memory of learning she'd survived. "Partly, yes, but don't you remember? You said so yourself to that Black Watch Agent. I believe your exact words were, and I quote, I followed your order, Big Guy." He paused to press his mouth against her forehead in his best approximation of a kiss. "And I'm glad for it."
Shepard rolled her eyes, but her smile remained. And, if he wasn't mistaken, he was fairly sure her eyes had moistened again for a completely different reason. Perhaps his romantic skills, or lack thereof, were finally becoming something he could take a small bit of pride in.
"All right, all right," she conceded. "You got me there."
"Or maybe it was, I followed your order, Garrus, Love of My Life, Key To My Heart and… To All Parts Below." He flicked a mandible and gave her the most suggestive look he could muster. His endeavor was rewarded with the first loud, genuine laugh he'd heard from her in days.
"Okay. Now you're pushing it, Big Guy."