Hello readers. I will take this time to apologize for such a late chapter! The beginning of college is always rough, but now that the first couple of weeks are through, I can get back to my normal schedule. This might be second to the real reason; I am suffering from a serious case of writer's block. However, I'm almost finished with the next chapter, and will be posting that one by Monday night. Therefore, I had to make this one a sort of "filler".

We're reaching the end of the timeline for the first game, so be ready for some serious changes in the coming chapters.

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far, and thank you to all of you that have stuck around for this long.

.vVv.

Shepard stared down the barrel of Wrex's gun, confidence faltering behind eyes of steel. She knew exactly why he was mad; knew just what had made him tick. And she understood his feelings and empathized with his people. But he didn't know that, and perhaps didn't want to know. Not now, anyway. But Shepard was determined to beat this. She needed to prove to this alien fiend that he had something more in her than just a human commander. He was so blinded by furry that he failed to see what his eyes showed him almost every day; Commander Shepard loved her crew. She made it clear with every word she said to each individual, every action she took for their benefit. Had it not been for the fact that there existed a deep-seeded appreciation for the woman before him, Wrex would have already pulled the trigger.

"I won't ask you again to put the gun down, Wrex. You're being brash and hard-headed."

There was that unwavering authority. His fingers curled and tightened their grip around the handle of the shotgun, heart beating through his index, urging the digit to place the tiniest bit of pressure on the trigger. Wrex's head swam with rage and indecisiveness while his insides twisted and lurched against opposing forces in an attempt to make sense of the jumbled words coming out of Shepard's mouth.

She's right.

The gun lowered and dropped to the ground with a soft thud while the Krogan seemed visibly shaken in front of her. Such a large, daunting figure…and yet he was before her, smaller than ever in the eyes of shame. There were no words for the two of them to share any longer; both parties knew through body language what the closing thoughts to the argument were. Wrex knew that Shepard always kept a clear head, and that he was being brash when thinking that an illegitimate army of krogan bred to kill for one certain Spectre was not the way to restore life to his dead race. Usually anything good takes hard work and determination to cultivate – this method of curing his people was the easy, sloppy way out. And it took the complete trust and reassuring of a human to help him remember.

As Shepard walked causually away from him towards the main tent of the camp, Wrex made his way to the other end. It felt like a walk of shame, and it couldn't end fast enough. All eyes were on the alien figure while he sauntered from the crime scene towards the one area that could make him feel better; the armory. It was a makeshift armory, along with a weapons modification bench, where he found the Normandy's lone Turian mixing and matching pieces of a few different assault rifles. The Krogan waited behind Garrus, watching carefully as deft fingers completed a piece and handed it to a patient Salarian next to him.

"You sure this'll work, Vakarian?"

"Oh it'll work, as long as your aim doesn't falter. If you stay focused, that gun will help you out of plenty of life or death situations. I know it's done me some good over these past few months." He stood, brushing metal shavings out of the crevasses of his armor plates where they had fallen and collected.

"Wrex. Did you have fun with your ocean target practice?"

"Watch it Turian. I didn't come over to your tent to be patronized."

Garrus crossed his arms and looked the angry alien over. He was still steaming from his earlier bout of rage, though he seemed restrained.

"Then what are you here for?"

"I need a new gun. Mine's an old one, and its time is up. Apparently shooting at fish in the distance repeatedly wears out an antique." He handed Garrus his weapon of old, passed down throughout the generations of warriors before him.

Garrus ran a finger across the top manifold of the shotgun as he thought to himself how wasted the weapon was. It was a strong machine, and could have been put to good use against rows of Geth, though not anymore.

With a curt nod after sizing up his project he returned to his work bench, immediately starting to hammer and pry at the metal fittings.

"I'll give you a gun…it'll just have to be a bit recycled. But you'll get something good, I promise."

.vVv.

How many hours had it been? Days?

"No, remember, if we've been fighting for a day, we would have seen the sun set. Did any of you even take Cosmological Geography and Physical Science 101? It's elementary."

"Garrus, I am this close to shooting you in the head with my grenade launcher." A very distraught and tired Ashley Williams leered exasperatedly at the snarky Turian behind her. Her arm was raised at an alarmingly threatening level, pointing an accusing finger at her new found enemy.

"I've had enough of your comedic antics for one day!"

"But Williams, it hasn't quite been a da-"

He was cut off from his teasing response by the very near sounds of gunfire and screams over Shepard's comm. They had just barely finished off the last of the scouts and were preparing their omnitools for the setting up of a very dangerous bomb. Peace and quiet is what they wanted, however they were hardly ever given their needs on the battlefield.

Shepard became painfully aware of how many casualties they had taken when Garrus took over the controls, allowing her time to observe the carnage around them. She slowly brought her tool up to chest level, pushing the comm button in response to the distress call.

"Lieutenant, talk to me. I hear noise but nothing from you, what's your status?" Her free hand found its way to Garrus's shoulder to rest her weight on him while she listened. She could feel Ashley's prying gaze as she ignored her surroundings to focus on Alenko's response.

"Coming in hot…can't hold them off…too many…" While she could only make out bits and pieces of his message, she heard enough to know what kind of trouble he was in. Nodding to Ashley for support, she handed Garrus his rifle and tugged on the corner of his shoulder plate to follow. He left his omnitool with Ashley before gathering himself up and following closely behind Shepard.

.vVv.

Ashley Williams was a good friend to Shepard. But in this moment, the friendship was dying, deteriorating fast without any way of stopping it. Shepard put her face in her hands while the Lieutenant made her case against her Commander, informing her of why she disapproved.

The woman was angry, upset, frustrated and sad. Shepard agreed with those feelings, felt them as waves overtaking their tired bodies. They were both on the Normandy, depressed as hell and worn out to boot. The mission was a success, though not without extreme losses. The tiredness came from their moving constantly all day in the hot Virmire daylight. The anguish and tears came from the loss of a crewmember; Lieutenant Alenko.

Shepard had to make one of the toughest decisions of her life in choosing between him or the bomb. She was torn apart by the need for justice in the galaxy, and the love for a crew member and friend. Losing people on missions was not taken lightly by the Commander, and each new second aboard the Normandy without a key element to their crew was a new punch to her gut. Each face wore a bitter loss in the wirnkles, each voice raspy and dry.

Then why was she being yelled at? Williams had asked to speak freely and in a haziness, Shepard had granted permission. It wasn't until the voice raised to a higher volume, an angrier octave, that she realized what she had done. A lesser crew member was on the verge of full out yelling at her commanding officer because of a battle action that she disagreed with.

This was not how mourning was supposed to go. Shepard was sad, yet she felt rage building in the pit of her stomach as she listened to the feeling pouring from William's mouth. She missed Alenko, but she'd be damned if she sat there and took unjustified accusations like a dead fish.

"Williams! Enough." She closed her eyes in relief as the accusing words faded to a squeak before dying out completely. When she reassigned her vision to the woman in front of her, she watched as Williams clenched her fists together and looked down at her feet.

"Commander…I can't stand this anymore. It's been about 5 hours since we boarded the Normandy from Virmire. 5 agonizing hours of dealing with Kaiden's death. Yet I found you here, talking with the last being I expected to see you with." Tears welled in the chief's eyes as she continued.

"How can it make me feel better when I see you flirting with him? I see the way you look at him, I saw how you looked at him on Virmire too. This mission was a failure in my book. We lost an important part of our team, all because you had to go back for your alien lover."

Shepard slammed her fist on the metal table, ringing hollow reverberations through the Crew Deck.

"Are you even listening to yourself, Ash? I sent Garrus back for you! Then it all started to fall deeper into hell from there. So I did the next logical thing; I went back for you. I went back for Saren. I went back for the bomb. Alenko knew what he was getting into the moment he first set foot on the Normandy. I will not let you sit here and tear me apart while you inadvertently boil Alenko's death down to such a simple thing as 'a poor decision'. Do you know how many other lives we lost today besides Kaiden's? How dare you disrespect not only his death, but every other soldier's that's missing from this ship right now. You might has well have spat on their graves." Shepard stood now, tall and unwavering. She watched as Ashley's face twisted into a silent cry, giving proof of her realization to Alenko's sacrifice. He died so that they might live. So that they might win.

But the feel of regaining her authority was bitter sweet. She might have shown the present crew that her justice was swift and not without confidence, but it was at the cost of trust. As she walked towards the elevator, she felt the stares of a dozen human eyes criticizing her love for a Turian. Ashley lost their argument, but she had won by planting the seed of uncertainty in all of the human soldiers that were watching their confrontation.

.vVv.

Garrus walked nervously into the elevator, silently bidding farewell to his unfinished project on the MAKO in the cargo hold. The vehicle needed to be fixed after its previous use on Virmire, however that could wait. It had been two days since his Commander; since his love, had come to see him at his station. He wondered how she was after the first day, worried about her at the end of the second day. Now at the dawn of the third day cycle on the Normandy, he needed to see her.

He understood she might be mourning – he was too. The entire crew had been making their way to and fro with a step so slow and tired, they could have all been mistaken for Husks. It was too much for Garrus. He needed Shepard, needed the one person that could right all the wrongs in this shitty universe. The one woman that could make him forget all of his problems with the soft, loving touch of her fingers. Two whole days without seeing the one person he ever really wanted to see was long enough.

When the elevator opened to the crew deck, he hesitated. There was a good chance a lot of the crew was in the mess hall. They would see him walking directly to Shepard's room without so much as a glance to anyone else. He personally didn't care, but after witnessing the fight between her and Ash, he was willing to bet that Shepard did care on some level. He needed to see her, but he needed to be careful with his approach. He nonchalantly made a cup of coffee, mentally noting how incredibly obvious it now was that he was going to see the Commander, as he never drank coffee of any kind. Avoiding the glances from scattered crew members around the room, he slipped quietly behind the corner and adjusted the collar of his tunic before pressing the button for the door.

He found her right where he guessed she would be, lounging in her seat at the Commanding officer's private terminal, steaming cup of coffee in hand. Her eyes moved to the entrance to her room, eyeing her guest with a lack luster gaze. Upon realizing who it was, she placed her mug on the desk and brushed her fingers through her hair, smiling softly at the man.

"Garrus. I already have coffee." Her warm voice washed over the Turian's waiting body, caressing his spine and coating his cold nervousness with a blanket of reassurance. He stepped over a few stray papers towards the woman and set the cup next to her mug. Pulling another chair closer to the desk, he sat and looked around the room. It was calm in her quarters; void of any of the depressing auras from the rest of the crew. Garrus felt as if he had stepped into a small sanctuary.

He couldn't quite put his finger on the feeling, but whatever it was, it was comforting and satisfying. He looked back toward Shepard, flicking his mandibles out slightly and voicing for a moment the deep thrum in his throat for her to hear. She reached her hand out to him in response, touching the rough skin of his palm and gently massaging each finger.

"I missed you." Garrus barely rumbled out the words, captured by her loving gaze and basking in the relaxing comfort of simply being close to her.

It felt like a dream, he was right in front of her after not even hearing her voice for the past 48 hours. He waited for the dream to end, for the butterflies to fade away, for the rush of reality to make its way back into his mind. Instead, his senses were met with warmth. Shepard had left her seat and settled into his lap, thighs resting on either side of his waist, arms wrapping themselves tightly around his neck. If he really was dreaming, he didn't want it to ever end. She was comfort and light in his most terrible darkness. And lately, it seemed that darkness had grown and was trying to overtake their sanctuary that was the Normandy.

Garrus sighed and drew his arms around her waist, bringing her body close. He let his head fall into her neck while the sweet citrus scent of her human soap filled his nose. She must have just showered not too long ago.

"I didn't mean for anyone to die." He heard her voice crack and felt her hands grip at his neck and fringe. She was crying into his shoulder, and for the first time, Shepard wasn't the commander of the Normandy. In this moment, she was the one woman that Garrus swore to protect. As his arms held her and his hands rubbed on her back, he knew that this was what he was meant to do. While she stayed strong to stop Saren and the Geth, it was Vakarian's job to keep her six, to hold her close to him while he kept her safe from harm. He would always be there for her, even if it killed him.

And in this thought, there was serenity. A certain kind of unique peace overtook his body as he sat there, holding the small figure. He felt strong and compassionate and his mind was crystal clear in its thoughts for Shepard. He loved her, and there wasn't a force in the galaxy that could change that.

He slowly pulled her body off of his shoulder. He held her arms in place and caressed through the fabric with his thumbs while he looked at her tear stained face.

"Don't you ever let anyone's words bring you down or make you question what kind of person you are. Right now, you're looking like the Council's best option. And even without the threat of Saren's wrath, you're the crew's best option. So far you have proven how great of a leader you are. Williams is just…sad. Everyone is sad over certain crew member's deaths. But it wasn't your fault. People might make mistakes, but this wasn't one."

"…but I chose to leave Kaiden. I went back for the bomb. We could have saved him, Garrus."

"I heard his arguments against you over the comm. He wanted what was best for the good of the people. One sacrifice for everyone else's well-being is a great price to pay. It's not a price that anyone ever wants or plans to pay, but he made his decision."

The Turian watched his woman intently, waiting for his words to sink in. Bringing a finger up to the tear streaks, he wiped what he could off of her soft face. She was the most alien, pale, squishy, beautiful thing he had ever seen, and it tore at his heart strings to see her this way.

"I've never seen you cry before."

Shepard smiled at him and cupped his mandible, stroking at the rough hide. "It doesn't happen often. Consider yourself lucky, Vakarian."