The next week he heard from her less, as the Normandy went further out the signal was delayed. They sent each other vid messages to keep in contact. Soon she was too far out for vidfeed contact, and Garrus busied himself with Spectre classes and training, waiting for her upcoming shore leave in two weeks.

He was in the middle of his course on interspecies languages and culture when he was called out to the administrator's office.

Curious, Garrus thought as he headed down the corridor. He couldn't imagine why he was being called up. It was extremely unusual to be asked to speak to him.

He walked briskly past his receptionist and she nodded to him to enter his office.

"I was told you need to see me, sir?" Garrus was stunned to see Dr. Chakwas stand up next to Administrator Baun. "Dr. Chakwas? What are you doing here, you off the Normandy?" he smiled and walked up to her, holding his hand out. She shook it, and looking at him briefly, then stood next to the desk.

Administrator Baun motioned to the chair across him, and Garrus sat, looking between them, perplexed.

"Is – there something wrong?"

Dr. Chakwas looked at the floor. The Administrator folded his hands in front of him, staring at Garrus.

Garrus swallowed hard, something was very wrong. "What is going on?"

Baun put his hands down, "Garrus, there's been an – incident."

"Okay."

The longer they were silent, the more he felt his stomach sink. Was his father ill? He did have medical issues –

"The Normandy was attacked. The intel coming in, well, it's not good."

Garrus blinked, he couldn't process what he was hearing.

Baun looked at him directly, "The ship was destroyed, some of the crew made it out in escape pods and are being treated here at the Citadel." He gestured towards Dr. Chakwas.

Garrus stood up and looked at Dr. Chakwas, "I've got to get to Shepard, where is she?"

"Sit down, please." Baun motioned to the chair again.

Frustrated, Garrus sat down and leaned forward.

Dr. Chakwas spoke for the first time. "I'm sorry Garrus, she's gone. She – she didn't make it."

He felt his throat go dry, "So they haven't found her yet, she's still out in the Terminus systems in an escape pod."

She started to pace, only then did he notice the cut on her forehead, the disheveled appearance of her uniform.

"We were in the Terminus system, we were attacked by some sort of ship, I don't know what. The weapons they had, I've never seen anything like the destruction."

Dr. Chakwas walked over to him and put her hand on his shoulder, "She never made it to the escape pod. The ship was destroyed as she was attempting to get in one after she put Joker in. She was the last one out, Joker saw her hit the wreckage and fall into space," she started choking up, "Only about half of us made it out alive. I, I'm so sorry." She dissolved into tears.

"This isn't true, she's made it out of worse before, you're wrong," he stood up and moved away from her.

Administrator Baun spoke up, "Take all the time off you need, Vakarian. We'll be here for you when you're ready."

Garrus looked at him with shock. His statement made him realize that it must be true. He turned and silently left the office, suddenly finding himself back in his apartment. As he burst through the door, he saw Marek shoot up off the couch.

"I, uh, they asked me to come back here and be here for you." He stammered.

Garrus walked a few feet in the room and looked at the vid screen, the ANN flashing the story of the Normandy attack. He slowly walked towards it as he was transfixed by the news reporter's account of what happened. He still felt they had the story wrong, until he saw footage of the crew at the hospital. Joker's image flashed across the screen, and he could tell by the look on his face Dr. Chakwas had told him the truth. He fell to the ground and Marek walked over, putting his hands on his shoulders. "Whatever you need, man." He said helplessly.

Garrus slowly got up and went to his room, taking out his duffel bag and sitting on his bed.

"She can't be gone, she can't."

Marek came in and silently packed his clothes and toiletries for him. Garrus numbly took his bag, then stopped and took all the pictures he had of him and Shepard and put them in the bag. Why didn't he have something else from her? He became angry, Why didn't he have any personal belongings from her at all? A shirt, a lock of her hair, anything? Because he thought he had time, that's why. He thought he had time.

He looked up at Marek and shook his hand, "Thanks." And he left.

The next weeks were a blur of trying to get more information, fruitless attempts to find her, then a reluctant acceptance, as he attended the funeral services for her and the other deceased crew.

A year later he was living in a crummy apartment on Omega, transformed into the vigilante Archangel. He had a small team he was putting together, working on trying to make the galaxy a better place. It was the least he could do to honor her memory. That was the only thing that had pulled him together – her. He kept his Spectre cadet uniform in his closet, the only thing he still had from his former life, beside photos. He never forgot how proud she was of him. His desire to never disappoint her pulled him from the abys, gave him some semblance of a life.

He sat on the edge of his bed, looking out at the blinking lights from the building across him. Time between missions was the hardest. His mind always wandered back to what could have been. The pain of her death was acute. The anger he felt at taking for granted she would be around had never left him. At times it fueled him, other times it burned him alive from the inside out, leaving him an ashy hull of his former self.

He stood up and walked wearily to the food storage and took out a bland meal, eating and drinking without pleasure. He sank into bed and stared at the ceiling, watching the pattern made by the lights. He turned over and lost himself in her smiling face looking back at him from the photos he had memorized.

He woke up with a gasp, then held his face in his hands. Another dream where he was with Shepard, and she disappeared in the crowd. He searched endlessly for her, hearing her call him. He wished his mind would stop torturing him. He'd rather never dream about her at all than have these continuing nightmares.

You are still a whisper on my lips
A feeling at my fingertips
That's pulling at my skin

You leave me when I'm at my worst
Feeling as if I've been cursed
Bitter cold within

Days go by and still I think of you
Days when I couldn't live my life without you

"Days go by" by Dirty Vegas