I've had a lot of great feedback from everyone since the last chapter. This next one is...well just read it, and I hope you like it. I'm personally happy with how it's turning out.

The "bite" mark. Is that not, most of the FF's I read, a sign of bonding? Will it come back to kick Garrus in the butt when he is finally with Shepard? Awesome question. Just want to address to everyone else that I do reveal a little bit more about that in this chapter, so read on!

Will Garrus confess to Jane about his getting strayed during her death? mm mm mm, can't tell you that yet, now can I?

I also had some feedback about reading from other characters' povs. I experimented with that in this chapter because it seemed like some good opportunities to try. Let me know what you all think!

.vVv.

"I fought hard for you, Shepard. I hope it was enough." A pearlescent, blue hand touched clear glass gently. Tears glistened shamelessly down Liara's already stained cheeks. Her heart ached in her chest for the corpse behind the glass. 108 years was apparently not long enough for a mind to figure out how to cope with the loss of a loved one. Liara T'Soni had attempted to prepare herself for this moment almost every day since the funeral. The cask had been empty, and she had known in her heart that she would be the one to find the body. None of the others seemed like they would try, so it was only natural that she take the mantle. Even if it hadn't originally been intended by the great hand of fate, she had twisted it; forced and willed it to happen.

It had been strange, donning her combat gear again for the first time after Shepard's passing. Only a month had gone by before she was contacted by an old friend, Satevia. The hacker's words were short and simple, yet meant the world to Liara: "I found Shepard." The time that followed was a blur of fast paced chasing and running and fighting. When she first saw Jane's mangled body in a stasis pod, her heart lurched and every emotion filled her body as her mind exploded in an ecstatic flurry of electricity. All she could reflect though was a sad smile. The fight that followed was brutally tiring and demanded everything of Liara. She spent the entire day running back and forth, one room to the next; finding guards here, Blue Suns there, and Collectors in between.

That was the frightening part. When she first encountered the collectors was when she truly doubted her ability to save Shepard. The pressure to succeed was almost unbearable, but she couldn't give up. Liara was fully prepared to die before she let the collectors have her Commander's body. Cerberus offered money for her help and she obliged quickly. Of course, it hadn't been for Cerberus or money. It was never about anything but getting Shepard back. She did it for selfish reasons. She needed Jane alive for herself, for everyone. Yet here she was, about to hand her over to them. At least they weren't the Collectors.

Liara closed her eyes in frustration and leaned her forehead into the glass barrier between herself and her best friend. She thought she was doing something great in recovering Shepard's body. Wasn't she? If she hadn't helped Cerberus, the Collectors likely would have been the ones with the prize. And it was unclear as to what exactly they needed it for; but that was the one thing that Liara shared with Cerberus. They both could only imagine what the Collectors would do, and wanted to instead preserve Shepard's legacy. At least that's what they told her. Regardless of any hidden motives, it was the only option.

"You can stay for the project, if you wish. I'd be honored to work with a decorated Asari scientist." Liara's eyes creaked open and she smiled before moving her eyes to rest on Shepard's corpse. Tears welled once more, but she swallowed the urge and fought to keep her voice steady.

"It was lucky the Blue Suns had a camp where she landed. I…I hope I am doing the right thing." A hand rested on her shoulder, tense but warm and comforting nonetheless. Miranda Lawson might have been working for Cerberus, but she was a friend through their shared journey. Liara struggled to find the words to describe how badly she wanted Shepard alive again. But there was no need to; Miranda had already explained the Lazarus project to her in great detail. While it had a high chance of failing, there was still that small chance that it would succeed and Jane would be back. Liara had to take what she could get, even if it meant leaving it in Miranda's hands alone.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. "I cannot stay, Miranda. But I implore you with every fiber of my being to please succeed. Don't make our work for nothing."

"I'll do as best as physically possible of me. I take pride in my reconstructive work, and I've had a lot of practice. I can keep you updated if you'd like?"

Liara's heart jumped at the thought. To read regular documentation on Shepard's status? It was perfect. "Just don't get into trouble with the Illusive Man. But I would really appreciate any news you can give me in these next years."

Miranda laughed lightly and looked towards the body. It was unmoving, but it held promising shades of red life beneath the charred surface. "There's a chance that she might not be the same. I hope you realize. She's dead to us but…no one really knows how much of the human stays behind after the physical signs of life have ceased. She could be completely normal if we succeed, or she could simply wake up a husk of Shepard. I'll do the best I can, but are you really alright with this sort of gamble?" The thought of Shepard not being herself was daunting, but living without having even tried would be a plague onto Liara's mind.

"At this point, I'm willing to try anything. And I know a few others who might feel the same way." Liara paused and reached for the pack of her belongings. "I'll contact you when I am settled in my new position. Let me make sure I am in a safe place to keep in contact with you."

"Still going after the Shadow Broker? He is a business man, you know, and a damn good one. Just because he made a few mistakes and let you take his merchandise doesn't mean he'll make another one in keeping you away."

It was a sinking feeling that dropped into the pit of Liara's stomach. She had thought about the consequences of what she planned to do many nights. But like saving Shepard, killing the Broker who had planned to sell her in the first place was simply something that had to be done. Liara resolved again that she would die before she failed at this.

"Then I'll just have to force his hand one more time. What happens when you use all your cards?"

Miranda smiled and winked at the asari, extending a hand out to her. "Well, you lose the game of course. Good luck."

.vVv.

"Where's Sidonis?" Garrus dropped his bag and helmet on the floor next to the door upon entering and noting that the turian in question seemed to be absent. He had great news, and he wanted everyone to be there for it. Upon searching his crew member's faces, he turned up empty. He received one of two responses from everyone, a head shaking to indicate negative and a few who rang back an "I don't know." Weaver was the last to answer him, raising his voice to reach him from the far side of the room.

"I suggested that he go and look for you. You worry us when you leave on your stints to the bar Garrus." Looks of anticipation darted around the room, hoping to avoid a confrontation. Garrus waved his hand to dismiss the tension. "I'll look for him in a bit. But first. I shot someone…someone important."

"You shot who?"

"Tarak. I got incredibly lucky and by some unbelievable miracle, saw him through his window. I had to try; what other choice did I have?"

Truly, it was a feat for the ages. None of the squad thought they would be able to score a hit so far up the chain of command without spending a ridiculous amount of money. Since Tarak was the current leader of the Blue Suns and infamous thorn in the squad's side, Garrus's hit on him was a major victory. Of course it was Tarak who held the highest statistic of exported illegal substances. There wasn't a doubt in Vakarian's mind that this shot was not only a blow to the ringleader's over inflated ego, but also to their exports.

Butler caught on quickly to that same fact. "Chances are, Tarak will be pissed. Since you only clipped his shoulder, he's likely to be more furious that anything. His defenses will double only from pulling guard away from the exports."

"And that's when we strike. This gives the perfect opportunity to sabotage his latest shipment. We know that this one is big, we've been hearing about it all over the damn sub networks. If we're successful, he'll lose half a million credits." Garrus flared his mandibles in a triumphant smile, one he hadn't shown since the very first time they took out one of Tarak's shipments a year and a half ago. It was short lived though, as Garrus fixed his gaze on Weaver, seated at the kitchen counter with hands folded in front of his face. The salarian had always been hard to read if anyone's attention to detail was subpar. There did exist small clues however, that gave away his thoughts. Today, the slightly felled eyelids, stiff arms, and tensed neck muscles showed that he was irritated. Perhaps a bit worried even.

While the others chatted amongst themselves about the day, Garrus excused himself from the group and made his way towards Weaver. Garrus had found the explosives expert disabling a modified bomb in a lower residential area. Families were in danger, and Weaver made it clear that death was not something he could simply let happen if it was within his power to prevent it. Turian and salarian paired up, Garrus fending off snarling Vorcha and Weaver focusing all of his attention on the complicated inner workings of the devise. They realized after the job was done that they made a good team, and exchanged call tags for the future. Neither expected it when Sidonis found Weaver after his partnership was formed with Garrus. But the salarian was happy to join, and glad that he knew both parties from prior meetings. Knowing Weaver for as long as he did, Garrus felt a connection with him. It had become apparent to everyone that neither of the two liked sharing the details of their mental processes with anyone else. The exception being Sidonis of course; that turian had a way of getting anyone to share anything with him.

"I'm no Sidonis, so I'm not all that great with words. But you look upset, Weaver. We've had a victory in our battle." The salarian sighed into his clasped hands and closed his eyes for a time, letting the sentence float around them. The noise of the crew opening bottles of liquor was a dull background to frame their success. But Weaver didn't like it.

"We might have won for now, but the war is just beginning. I don't feel happy right now because I know that we have a dark future ahead of us. Winning anything from now on will be like pulling out our own teeth." He opened his eyes and stared into Garrus's concerned face. Poor turians, always remember winning and forget losing. The best lessons are learned from failure. "I congratulate you, friend. But I hope you will think carefully about our actions in the near future. We cannot afford to make any mistakes, or take any risks. Tarak will try to make you pay for what you've done."

.vVv.

Who is that? I've never seen her before.

Where am I even? Machines. Wires attached to my shoulders and knees. My stomach burns. I can't feel the rest of my body. Just the parts that have wires on them, I can feel those. Am I even breathing? I can't feel my lungs if I am. Do I even have shoulders and knees? How do I know that what I'm feeling is real?

Was that Liara? No, it was that woman. But I'm remembering Liara. She was right in front of me.

A man is here. He is confused, but I don't trust his voice. They are saying there was a mistake but I can feel my lungs now and they are breathing hard. The woman is angry and I can feel my heart now. Lungs and heart, burning, I feel like I'm on fire.

Was I in fire before? I know how this feels and I hate it. I don't want to die, please don't let me die! The wires are stretching and cracking and I can no longer feel my knees and shoulders. Now it is just burning everywhere and the voices are panicked. They are yelling and grabbing at me. Do I have a body still? My brain hurts and I can no longer see.

I am calm again. I know only because everything feels still. If they are yelling, I cannot hear them. If I am on fire, I cannot feel it. If I am alive, I cannot see it.

I think I am dead now. It feels like last time. I remember the first fire now, and it felt the same.

.vVv.

It felt like days since Garrus had last been to the Endless Tap, the bar that spiraled him into his terrible habit of drowning in a mixture of his sorrows and cheap liquor. Even though it had only been this morning when Sidonis had attempted to stop him from leaving, the day had lasted and been drawn out with his own guilt. The walk to the bar was proving to be quite terrible, with Garrus's thoughts jumping back and forth between finding Sidonis and apologizing for not listening, and apologizing to Shepard for betraying her. It seemed to him that apologizing was a recurring theme in his life as of late. He stopped and glanced to his left in a small alcove under a larger dumpster. Two vorcha were loudly smacking their chops and tearing what appeared to be a pyjack carcass. Filthy beings. He continued on, knowing full well that he still had half a mile more to go before he reached the bar again.

One thought at a time, Garrus.

He thought about Sidonis. The one turian who had become his best friend through all of this, was somewhere in these dim alleyways searching for him. He felt terrible for turning down Lantar's offer earlier. Perhaps he wouldn't have done the unthinkable with that…woman had he simply taken that damn bouquet. Off track. Sidonis surely remembered the way to the bar, but if he didn't there would be little to no chance that they would run into each other. The District was huge and he could be anywhere by now.

As he neared the entrance to the tavern, he looked into one of the clearer windows on the front side of the building. His eye caught something peculiar when looking for his booth in the back, and picked up his pace for it. The booth was empty of the glasses from earlier, save for a small napkin folded hastily in half. On the top part of the napkin was a scribbled "N". Neeva.

He picked up the paper suspiciously, preparing himself for some sort of booby trap. It was a ridiculous notion, of course. On the inside fold was the same handwriting, this time spelling out a name, first and last. Garrus squinted his eyes at the paper, anger and anxiety rumbling in his gut. He had a terrible feeling about this woman now that his sobriety had returned to him. With an inkling of an idea, he quickly opened his omnitool display and punched in the name. As he had suspected, it was a calltag, the name illuminating just a hint brighter than the display to reflect its validity. He contemplated sending a message, but decided against it for now. She could wait to speak with him for a bit longer. It obviously wasn't important enough for her to have chased after him when he had left earlier. He tossed the napkin back on the table and turned to exit the bar, out of ideas on where his friend could have gone.

A week later, and still no Sidonis. Garrus was returning from his daily rounds of the neighborhood and surrounding district in search of his friend. Everyone, himself especially, had become increasingly worried at their friend's absence. Upon returning to the stronghold, he entered to the crew gathered around the main mess table as they had now taken to daily, maps and data pads strewn about the surface. Each member was discussing or arguing different routes, frantically drawing on the open maps, or typing hastily into their respective holo keyboards. Butler spotted Garrus and left the table, drawing his Commander to the side with an arm draped around his shoulder.

"What is it, Butler?" The large man looked nervous, an adjective not often used to describe his burley comrade.

"Seeing as how you didn't walk in with Sidonis…we might have some bad news. But I'm not sure it's a good time to discuss it. Weaver discovered it, and it made Melenis intriguingly upset for whatever reason. If you can ignore the awkward tension for now, I promise I'll fill you in on everything after she goes to sleep."

"What?" Garrus, unfortunately for Butler, craned his neck around to peer very conspicuously over Butler's shoulder at the table. Everyone fell silent as they felt his eyes on Melenis, who was trying very hard to appear focused on her datapad.

"Melenis, could you hand me that plug in, please?" She reached for a cord opposite her and nearly smashed it into Weaver's chestplate, causing him to let out a light huff. It wasn't anywhere near hard enough to hurt, but the loss of breath and surprise was apparent.

Garrus leaned his elbows on the table, feeling like a stern parent about to interrogate his children. "Alright, someone tell me what's going on here. I didn't find Sidonis. Why isn't he back yet?"

"I was getting suspicious of his disappearance at such an odd time. I pulled up his files and found very recent transactions on his account from the main capitol." Weaver paused his narration when Melenis let out an audible sigh and excused herself from the table. "Garrus, I don't think he is lost…I think he might have left on purpose. He is obviously using his share of the earned funds on his own."

The harsh reality of his friend's departure settled in with Weaver's words. The answer was self-evident. Sidonis had gotten fed up with Garrus's attitude and finally decided to leave. He felt the urge to leave again, to find the bar and drink. Instead he grabbed a datapad and angrily stomped up the stairs to his loft, shutting and locking the door behind him.

.vVv.

Chakwas was a complete mess. She hadn't slept in at least 56 hours. Thank the heavens for caffeine pills. Or perhaps she should have chosen to thank the hells, seeing as the side effects to using the pills to stay awake constantly was not something she chose to think about. She was a doctor for crying out loud! She should know better than to subject her body to such tortures. Then again, her patients weren't necessarily going out of their way to make her job easier. In fact, the two that took most of her time were people that knew her the best out of the entire crew. She wiped sweat from her forehead and furrowed her brow for focus.

"Ow!" Damnit.

"Shepard, honestly, I'm not going to be able to get anything accomplished with your incessant whining." A resounding giggle from the man in the corner did not help.

"If I hear one more peep out of you, Joker, I'll jettison you into the unknown during the next mass jump."

That got him to shut up. "Doc, if you do that, it will through off the entire ship. We'll all die. In fact, if you jettison me in a pod, I'll be the only one to live!" Nevermind.

"We can't have that." Shepard smiled at the fervent doctor, bringing out a large, if not exhausted grin from Chakwas. No matter what ever happened, she would always love these two patients of hers. Despite how tired her core felt from sitting in front of the Commander, hunched shoulders and strained neck, she felt alive and happy to be here. It was a privilege and an honor to have been standing in front of Shepard once again. When she saw her for the first time in 2 years, Chakwas had almost fainted. Her first reaction was a cry of mixed emotions before she reached out for a loving hug. It was like reuniting with a long lost child, one that she both loved and fiercely respected. Her death had been nothing but pure devastation, and Chakwas longed for nothing else than to be back on the Normandy. Cerberus had made that dream come true when they brought back Shepard.

Seeing the woman standing tall, healthy if not a little scarred, and radiant as ever brought a burning fire back into her life. Shepard was back, and the whole galaxy had damn well be ready for her.

.vVv.

Garrus stared at the ever obvious mark on Neeva's shoulder. It was like looking into a mirror and seeing yourself as you are without leaving anything to imagination. Nothing could change what he was seeing, and it terrified him. This was what he had done in his blind drunken state. Rage fought against anxiety inside him, reaching for an outlet. Rage won.

"What is medi-gel for if you aren't going to use it?!"

Neeva stared blankly at him before moving her hand to cover the burning mark in shame. But Garrus did not pity her in the slightest. She brought this on herself, and he thought her the fool because of it.

Her voice quivered and she dropped her head down as she spoke. "I didn't have any on me. It was the residential district so you can't expect anyone here to have any-"

"I don't want to hear you speak right now. Just let me think." Garrus's heart felt like it was going to jump out of his chest from how hard it had begun hammering. Not from excitement or happiness or love like it would normally in a situation like this. Its beating was sporadic because of the guilt and anguish now filling his body to the very bone. He had promised himself to Shepard, the promise of love to a loved one now gone. Sprits, what have I done…

He couldn't think any longer, he could only sit. Sit and stare at his miserable handiwork. The only thing that continued to pry at his mind was why Neeva had wanted to tell him about her keeping the mark. Wasn't she ashamed of it? Did she not have others she wanted to be with? Perhaps it wasn't the same in Heliad clans. It was possible that they did not hold bond marks to as high esteem as other turian cultures. He shook his head and rubbed his face into his palms. That theory didn't make any sense for their situation. The only other logical explanation was that she…wanted this. He raised his head up to peer at her now shy form. He stared until she tired of his watching her and sat across from him on the cold floor of his lofted room. Garrus cleared his throat and prepared himself for her response to his feared theory.

"Why did you tell me?...Why didn't you run away?"

Neeva closed her eyes and sat tall in front of his scrutinizing gaze. With a deep breath, she answered with the sentence they both were reluctant to hear. "Because I didn't mind it. You looked like you needed help in your life, and I was drawn to you for whatever reason. I'm okay with this…because I want to help you."

Garrus squeezed his eyes shut and pretended like he hadn't just heard that. He sat and thought long and hard about the woman in front of him. Painfully aware of Shepard's memory still burning hot in his heart, he forced himself to reopen his eyes. He stood and flexed his hands into fists to calm himself. Gesturing for the door, he quietly bid her goodnight. "You can stay and help us. The crew could use an extra hand."

When she had almost fully exited through the door frame, he watched Neeva's body pause and turn slightly back towards him.

"Do you think…you'd ever let yourself be marked?" Garrus's eyes widened at the absurd question and he swallowed his swelling anger. With a hasty "no", he remotely closed the door, pushing Neeva outside. He locked the hatch and sealed himself inside his room, to be alone with his new found demons.

.vVv.

"I think you know why we're here."

Sidonis darted his tired eyes around the room. At least he had enough energy to do that much. His captors and subsequent torturers were all Blue Suns. So it came as a slight surprise to him when he noticed both Eclipse and Blood Pack representatives today.

"We've got a job for you, scum. One that we think you'll find hard to resist." Funny how they were the ones calling him scum. Sidonis spit at his side. It took more effort than he liked to admit to muster up the strength for an answer.

"I only work for Archangel."

"Exactly! That's why you're going to help us trap him."

Sidonis laughed a fierce and angry laugh, hoping to show them he was too insane to trust with any sort of treachery against his friend. The laugh was gone in a second though, replaced by choking and rasping in his throat from a grimy hand closed around his windpipes. Stars danced in front of his eyes and his vision around it blurred and lost focus. All he saw now were shadowy figures of various colors. The red one was the one grabbing him. He shifted his eyes over as best he could to the now approaching blue shadow. The blue blob began to speak to him in an angry voice.

"We're not letting him get away with attempting an assassination! And we're willing to prove to you how serious we are. Do you remember your family?" The red shadow released his hold on Sidonis's neck and he gasped and wheezed for air as if there could never be enough of it. While clearing his throat and coughing, he managed to squeeze out a small response with a rough laugh behind it. Stupid fools didn't know that his family was dead?

"They died from the plague." He'd never get out of here alive, but he was coming to terms with that fact. They had nothing on him, and Sidonis would take his loyalty to the grave.

"We know, you slimy piece of pyjack shit. But since we're all well aware of that fact, let's make sure you understand the situation."

The Salarian in Yellow coughed to announce his turn at spewing bullshit. But what Sidonis heard out of his mouth next shocked him to his core.

"Just remember the feeling you had when you lost your precious family. Remember it when we're slowly killing off the family members of your crew." Sidonis could barely believe what was happening. His breathing turned frantic, and his thoughts were a buzz. If they knew about the crew and their families, did that mean that they had them in possession already? How were they able to figure it all out so quickly, or did they already collect this information when Archangel first made an appearance? The red Krogan smacked Sidnois's head hard on his temple. His ears began ringing and he attempted to shake off the resounding headache that followed to no avail. He vomited on the floor in front of him.

"Disgusting." He heard it from somewhere in the room. His eyes were dizzy and he let his head lull backwards weakly. He was so tired, so utterly exhausted. It would be such a relief to simply die of heart failure. That would make everything easy for him. No more having to answer to anyone, no more tough decisions, no more protecting this person or that person. But somehow, life came back to him once more as he smiled at the thought of an interesting conclusion.

"You're bluffing."

"No we're not." The blasted retort came so quickly, Sidonis knew immediately that they planned this whole conversation. He chuckled and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes for a bit of relaxation. Of course they knew what he would say, what kind of drugged up, beaten, tired fool isn't ever predictable? When he opened his eyes again, his line of sight fell on candid pictures on the holographic displays of the merc leaders' omnitools. It was all the proof he needed to feel completely hopeless. There was no fighting the inevitable. Sidonis would have to betray his best friend, and there was nothing he could do about it. How could he refuse to help? The Mercenaries were giving him a choice between Archangel's life, or the lives of about 20 innocent people. If he had learned anything from Garrus in their time together, it was that there was no choice when it came to situations like this. The lives of the many outweigh the lives of the few, and that fact was one that became more painfully apparent with each passing picture that the omnitools flipped through.

With a lump in his throat and heart aching more than it ever had before, he acquiesced to their proposal.