Days and days now and they weren't giving up. Garrus' thought processes were slowing down with exhaustion, no more clever strategies and creative solutions. Just this. Just his scope and the fools who wandered haplessly into it. This place was well stocked, he had made sure of it. In fact, he'd picked it for its defensibility when they were looking for a meeting place, at the beginning of this endeavor. He remembered thinking one man could hold off an army for days, good to know he was correct in his surmise.

Taking the gunship with a well placed round, he turned smugly to his phantom companion. Shepard gave him one of her sweetest smiles and a thumbs up, but pointed back at the bridge. He nodded in thanks. She was always looking out for him, spotting the mercs his flagging attention sometimes missed, giving him pointers on where to place his mill dots. Which was funny, because Shepard didn't know the barrel from the ass on a sniper rifle. When he asked her where she learned that, she just smiled like it was a secret. He didn't feel so alone when she was there with him, even if she stayed just out of reach.

The whole thing had taken on an surreal feelling, like they were kids playing house. Just he and...Shepard, taking out the baddies in between walking the dog and taking out the trash. Part of his mind recoiled from examining this too closely. He might fly apart at the seams if he did. A deep seated voice, even deeper than the Shepard voice that was now congratulating him on a perfect headshot, was telling him that he was truly in the woods now, off the deep end, had a few loose screws, was a sandwich short of a pic-a-nic. He sternly told that voice that if he was going to die, then what did it matter and to remind him to thank Joker later on for all these useful human idioms...preferably with a kick in the face.

Provided they didn't think up anything clever, heh heh, clever mercs, he thought with a warbly sort of chuckle, back to the point, provided they didn't think up anything clever, he probably had stores of ammo and nutrient paste to last another...week, maybe? Oh, good job, all around. Garrus didn't think he'd be able to stay awake for that long, so maybe the end will come sooner rather than later. Good, because Shepard was smiling way too much. In the old days, when Shepard smiled, it was like a gift. Or a rare stone, blazing in the dark. Ugh, now he was getting all maudlin.

He injected himself with another stimshot, the chemicals burning their way through his veins, strengthening flagging muscles and sharpening dulled wit. When he opened his eyes, Shepard was no where in sight. Probably checking the doors on the lower levels. We'd be screwed if they ever decided to come through there.

He turned his attention back to the bridge, where another wave of freelance idiots were making their way towards him. He gripped his rifle, drumming his fingers on it whilst humming. He snapped it up to his shoulder and unleashed the whole clip, dropping the whole vanguard in rapid succession. Nice, he thought smugly, making a little game of it. Letting some of them get almost to the end of the bridge before picking them off. While he was doing this, he caught a very different sort of movement at the far end.

Hmmm, someone knew what they were doing, he thought tracking the movement without the scope for now, content just to analyze it objectively. Small insertion squad, for infiltration or distraction? Something terribly familiar...

Finally, his curiosity got the better of him, plus they were moving up the bridge far too quickly for his comfort, so he brought the trio into scope. A dark skinned man and a long haired woman followed a small figure in armor, moving in that easy tandem that spoke of advanced training. His mouth was suddenly dry as dark little thoughts fluttered around the edge of his suddenly too silent brain, Oh no nonono. It's not possible.

It was a woman, petite but with an aura of command that he could feel from up here, unmistakable because he'd once danced to its tune, too. He could feel the pull of it, trying to drag him into her orbit. Her voice, her voice drifted up to him where he sat dumbfounded, not even caring that some of the freelancers had crossed the bridge he'd had locked down for days now. He couldn't seem to keep his scope from trembling long enough to take in the woman's face. But the movement was all Shepard, he saw the boneless way she dropped into cover, the roll of her hips as she ran and leapt over some piece of debris. His breath was coming in irregular little spurts as he tried to clear the little black spots that threatened to take away his vision. That can't be me, I'm right here, Garrus. said a voice in his ear.

Don't do this to me, please Spirits, anybody, I can't- He screamed in his head while he turned his head to face his erstwhile companion, the Shepard in his head. She gestured to the other Shepard, I'm dead. I can't be down there. Go on, pop her in the shields. You'll see she isn't real, not like me.

His hand came up slowly, switching out his ammo for concussive rounds. As he let fly two rounds, he saw that tiny Shepard down there unload her shotgun into the merc in front of her. His rounds bounced off her shields, making her stumble and rub her shoulder. She was close enough that he could see her face, the grimace that immediately smoothed out into an impassive stare she leveled at his nest. Spirits, no. If that is her, I won't be able to bear it. She'll see how low I've been brought.

"They're with Archangel!" Came a yell from the mercs still remaining. With brutal efficiency, the ghost and her two followers decimated the mercenary forces on the bridge, all the way up to where Garrus crouched, shaking and sweating in his armor. He heard them moving behind him, warily approaching his turned back. Garrus felt the pressure of her regard on the back of his neck. Abject terror coiled in his gut, along with a feeling he hadn't felt for years. The tiniest flicker of hope trailed icy fingers up his spine.

Heard her take a breath, "Archangel?"

He was so close to coming undone, a breath...a moment was all he needed to get back under control. He pled silently with a hand for a moment, picking off a merc absentmindedly while he struggled with his emotions. Just look, just look at her.

He stood and turned, finally finding some modicum of courage way deep down in his battered soul. Peeling his helmet off, he sat on an ammo crate, legs propped up on a low box in front of him. Finally, he allowed his eyes to drift to her, roaming over her features looking for confirmation that this wasn't a dream, that this was actually happening, finding no such reassurance. His perception was so skewed from true that it couldn't confirm or deny reality any more. He gulped in some air, croaking hoarsely, "Shepard...I...thought you were dead."

He winced at his inadequacy, trying to keep the pain out of his voice. His entire frame shook like he'd taken a concussive blast when an expression of joy lit up her face, her voice strident, "Garrus!"

Her arms came up and she seemed to step a few faltering steps forward, wanting to embrace him, stopping short as she really looked at him, "What are you doing here?"

He leaned away from her slightly, not wanting to touch her and shatter this illlusion, "Just keeping my skills sharp. A little target practice."

She glanced back at her two subordinates, as though she couldn't speak freely in front of them, lowering her voice, "Are you okay?"

He almost lost it then, quelling an insane laugh with difficulty. A dead woman was asking him if he was okay. It was too much, too far beyond his ability to comprehend right now so he just went with it, even as a part of him told him not to savor this fantasy too much, "I've...been better. Good to see a friendly face."

Yeah, he could do this. Pretend that he's normal, that this whole crazy shitball was normal. "Killing mercs is hard work. Especially on my own."

She rolled her shoulders back, Spirits, I can even smell her, this was turning out to be a very convincing hallucination. She said, "You got me good a couple times, by the way."

He showed her his loadout, and its display that read concussive rounds. She quirked her eyebrow at him, "Uh-huh."

Just a second of irritation, that this cunning phantom couldn't be bothered to use whole sentences, wanted to rail at her as he'd done in some of his nightmares, where were you, why weren't you there, you promised, "If I wanted to do more than take down your shields, I'd have done it. Besides, you were taking your sweet time. I had to get you moving."

This was coming easier, now if he could only get rid of the flickering image of that other Shepard capering around the edge of his vision. He watched the ghostly Jane stand next to her namesake, leaning in as if to whisper something in her ear. He hoped it wasn't about some of the things he'd done here. His eyes were drawn back to the piercing green ones as he realized she had asked him a question. Something about pissing off the merc bands. ah, yes.

He looked down so she wouldn't see the shame of his failure in his face, "It wasn't easy. I really had to work at it. I am actually amazed they teamed up to fight me. They must really hate me."

It was clear she had more questions, but Garrus silentlly begged her for reprieve. He could see a flash of hurt in her eyes. Sighing, her face became a serene mask, something he now hated because he'd seen the glory hidden under it, "Well, we got up here but I don't think getting out will be as easy."

He stood and turned from that hated facade, "No, it won't. That bridge has saved my life...funneling all those witless idiots into scope. But it works both ways. They'll slaughter us if we try to go that way."

The woman with Shepard spoke up for the first time, "So we just sit here and wait for them to take us out?"

Garrus rubbed his fringe, shooting her a glare, I don't know you human, I didn't ask for you to join my delusional breakdown. But, best not to show all his cards yet so he instead said, "It's not all that bad. This place has held them off so far. And with the...three of you...I suggest we hold this location. Wait for a crack in their defenses, and take our chances. It's not a perfect plan, but it's a plan."

She looked at him, coolly, "If we fight as a team, we'll hold them off."

Yes, we'll fight them off. The other Shepard smiled sadly at him, Then you'd better have some answers. You know how I like my answers.

He shuddered in fear, and the woman in front of him glanced over at the empty space he was staring into, a tiny frown creasing her forehead.

Or, I'm already lying in a puddle of my own blood and they've breached the base because my craziness has spawned me an imaginary army. Either way, he could do with some certainty. He watched both Shepards go downstairs with the human woman, the dark skinned male guarded his flank. Odd that his brain could create hallucinations of people he'd never met but not provide him with their names...that alone halfway convinced him this might, just might actually be happening.

Now he was coming to regret his earlier prophetic thoughts as he was indeed lying in a pool of spreading blue. Pain seared the right side of his face and he could hear his breath savagely grinding in and out, almost panting. His blurred vision was filled with her face, and whether or not she was actually there, he was suddenly, fiercely glad to see her, that she was here, at the end of all things. He could feel the pressure of her hands on his armor, on his neck to help staunch the blood. He reached up and grazed her jaw with a talon. With the last of his strength, he dragged his rifle to his chest. It was as much a part of him as his fringe or mandibles. He slipped into darkness, content at last.