Destruction was everywhere. Fires burned and ash fell from the high places. Alarms rang like bells in the steeple of a church. Sovereign was destroyed, the Council was alive, the Citadel was saved. What geth remained either fled or were disposed of. Sifting thought debris to find survivors was arduous work. Anderson waded through the wreckage that had become the Presidium Tower as well as the rest of the Citadel. They could rebuild, repair, replace what was damaged. His focus was on the people. Pulling back every piece of hull plating and foreign tech that hid the wounded beneath it, hunting for the team that had fought Saren in the last hours of battle. Searching diligently for Shepard. Then someone called out to him.
"Captain Anderson, we found them! They're in here!"
Anderson rushed over to the blonde haired man, ducking under a fragmented remnant from Sovereign's hull. It was Vakarian and Wrex. They were injured but alive. Anderson helped the turian who was struggling to gain his feet.
"Take it easy. It's over. You're safe now."
He couldn't count how many times he'd told others that. He still hadn't convinced himself. Hazel eyes scanned the area for any sign of the Commander, and found none. Their color was further revealed as the pupils shrank to pin heads.
"Where's the Commander?"
Garrus' head hung low, not with physical pain, then looked sadly toward the flaming remains of Sovereign that had come crashing through the window behind where the Council stood. He understood without needing to be told. Shepard had been crushed by the tentacle of a Reaper. His eyes searched the wreckage. It was unlikely that she survived, but he wasn't going to give up, no matter how convinced her team was that she hand't made it. He helped Garrus over some debris. The turian needed medical attention. He was bleeding in several spots and he was sure the alien's arm was broken. His eyes flicked back to the black metal that had been Sovereign once Garrus was transfered to the care of another volunteer. Citadel be damned if he was going to give up hope before he had her body in his arms. Then there was a flash of movement. He focused with hawk like perception on the spot. Shepard came running up an inclined hull plate, torn from the frame work of the finger of Sovereign. Anderson took a few steps forward, hardly believing she was alive. Joy replaced the expectant sorrow. Pride filled him and thankfulness to whatever power had spared her. As she made her way towards her surprised and relieved friends, she smiled. Triumphant and surprised by her own survival. Her arm was broken and she held it to her torso. There was a limp in her step, but she still walked victoriously to his side. He couldn't hold back the unprofessional smile.
"Told ya I'd come back." She whispered.
David blinked back unsightly tears.
"Yes, my love, I suppose you did." He whispered back. Then, loud enough for others to hear, he resumed his duty.
"Are you alright? Let's get you to a medic."
They couldn't show the happiness they felt to see that the other had survived. It would be many hours before there would be time to find solace in the other's touch. That night he held her, mindful of her arm and the sprained ankle, in the captain's quarters on the Normandy. The soft sheets smelled like her now. She was the captain, and she had not disappointed him. Exhaustion took her before it took him, and he lay on the pillow listening to her breath until reality became a dream. Content and fulfilled, he slept peacefully next to her for many nights while helping to rebuild the Citadel by day. He would look back on moments like these latter in life and think of Poe when he said, 'We loved with a love that was more than love.' He could think of nothing more befitting the complexity they shared that was so simple it was hard to grasp. He'd given up on trying to understand it. So he let it be whatever it was with a glad heart.