Two
Garrus.
Garrus!
"Garrus?" her voice was so hoarse from disuse his name came out as a pitiful whisper. Jacob and Zaeed rose from cover with pistols on the Turian stepping out of cover across from them. It was him. Garrus; it really was him. Shepard felt like the she had been holding her breath underwater for a long time and was finally coming up for air. It was someone she knew, someone who wasn't a stranger; in an instant she was closing the distance between them, running with full force. Garrus wasn't expecting it; the Shepard he'd known hadn't been much of a hugger, but he caught her with one arm and held her tightly to him. He'd never been so physically close to Shepard before, she smelled like vanilla and flowers to him. He tried not to let her scent be pleasant to him; it was a dead woman he was holding after all.
"I half-expected you to pass right through me. That is what ghosts do, right?" he asked with a small smile. Even in the throes of his own life-or-death struggle, Garrus always had jokes. Shepard hadn't really known if she would have either, but she held him tightly and thought of nothing else.
"You know Shepard, Archangel?" Jacob asked, holstering his pistol and moving closer. Garrus focused on him with skeptical eyes.
"Yes. I met her, served under her, and watched her die before my very eyes two years ago. I see that perhaps I'll need to invest in glasses… because you're not dead, Shep," he looked down at the top of her head. She wasn't going to move, or explain herself right now. She was reeling, reveling in being in the arms of someone she knew. It took the ever-nearing gunshots to get deafeningly close for her to finally let him go.
"They've figured us out, Commander. We need to defend position," Jacob said, pulling his rifle. Garrus smiled down at Shepard, he was glad to see her; even under the circumstances. He drew his sniper rifle and popped in a new round.
"Let's add to the body count!" Zaeed shouted excitedly, pulling his shotgun and leaping down the stairs to the first level. Shepard turned away from Garrus, pulling her sniper rifle from the holster. He grabbed her arm.
"Promise me once we get through this, you're going to tell me how you're even alive right now," he said. She nodded, reloading her rifle.
"Then let's make a bet, for old time's sake. You're keeping count," Garrus said, moving to the ledge. Shepard followed his lead, taking the opposite side of the ledge. They kept even numbers, and anyone that managed to skim by them got a shotgun blast to the face courtesy of Jacob and Zaeed. The YMIR Mech that crossed onto the bridge only made Garrus laugh.
"Ten points if you get the driver before they rampage the Mech, Shep," he shouted to her. She smirked. It hurt to do so, her scars stretched uncomfortably and the muscles felt weak across her face. She lined up her sights, could see the man clearly through the bullet-proof casing. She took a solid breath, and -boom-. The glass shattered before the Mech's feet, and the driver fell out; a pool of blood forming quickly around him.
"It seems to me all dying did for you was improve your aim, Shep," Garrus noted, rising up from cover. The field was clear; perhaps they'd exhausted their recruits and were finally backing down. Jacob and Zaeed made their way back upstairs.
"Any secret pathways or exit routes in this shithole, Archangel?" Jacob asked, reloading his shotgun. Garrus narrowed his eyes at Jacob.
"Now why would I have one of those? So if ever three mercenary crews I've spent the last year dismantling from the inside out would band together with the noble goal of murdering me and burning all my efforts to the ground? Or did you honestly think I carried my daily groceries across that bridge?" He responded with an equal amount of disdain. Jacob didn't seem to respect Garrus very much, perhaps it was the bullet he almost took for this mission; Garrus wasn't keen on his attitude.
"Look, Turian; I just want to get the hell out of here and back to the ship so I can whoop your ass for nearly killing me on the field," Jacob replied, stepping up to Garrus. Garrus smirked.
"Damn, I wish I hadn't missed. I'm so afraid of a small human such as yourself; you've got me shaking in my three-toed boots," He answered harshly, clenching his fists. Shepard quickly got between them, pushing Jacob back.
"Back off, Taylor. That's an order," she said. God, she wished she didn't sound so pathetic and small.
"Since when do you give orders, Commander? Because I've never even heard you speak, let alone give-"
He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes widened. A whooshing noise was getting closer to them very quickly, the unmistakable sound of a gun-ship. One of these nuts had a gun-ship?
"You and these traitors are dead, Archangel! Say goodbye!"
The rocket fired from the ship's left side, came spiraling toward Shepard in slow motion. She felt like the sticky tar that consumed her dreams was licking at her heels, keeping her a deer in the headlights of an oncoming train. What if she let it kill her? No more emptiness, no more sleepless nights. These people wouldn't have to put up with her, could focus on their tasks at hand without her dragging them down. She could drift into the choking black darkness again, and stay.
"Shepard!"
She was thrown back into a crate near the stairs. She didn't feel the searing burns or any hurt at all, and when she opened her eyes she knew she was not. Garrus was. Her ears were ringing, she couldn't hear Zaeed and Jacob shouting to each other; taking cover and returning fire on the gun-ship. Was Garrus dead? He wasn't moving. This was because of her. Her one hope for being brought back to the old Shepard and she had killed him. In one quick moment, she again had nothing. The gun-ship's left wing caught fire, sending it into a tail-spin back across the bridge. Shepard hadn't realized how hysterical she was until Jacob was knelt down before her and shaking her shoulders.
"Commander! Commander!"
His voice was distant and foggy, like he was incredibly far away. Zaeed was a whisper to her.
"Archangel's alive, Taylor! Let's get them out of here now!"