You'd think being dead meant no more dreams, He thought, wryly to himself. Not a moment ago, he had started awake, lurching out of his cramped little cot and thrown himself at a wall, coming to his senses only when the pain in his hands screamed at him to stop trying to disembowel a bulkhead. In his dream, he was in a dark place, caged like a varren, only when he looked down, he saw only pale bruised skin and five long graceful fingers instead of three blunt taloned ones. Shadows advanced on him from outside the bars and the gates opened just enough to allow one very turian shaped shadow to enter.

Garrus yelped in a high pitched voice when his fragile hands were gripped and yanked forward. Slowly, the hands on the ends of his pale pale arms rose up to the shadow's mouth, which opened in a sickening leer. Unimaginable pain, as those sharp teeth ripped the tiny digit on the outside of his right hand free. A scream erupted from him. The fiend was moving his other fingers into its mouth, and the last thing he remembered seeing before he woke so violently was the flash of blue on the monster's face, blue marks he knew he would see if he looked in a mirror.

He'd just finished being sick into one of his spare crates when a ping on his omnitool signaled that they were about to make planetfall. He wiped the sleep from his eyes as he blearily read the ship-wide alert. 'Korlus orbit achieved."

A blue glow to his right told him that the ship's AI, EDI had intruded on his solitude again, "Commander Shepard wishes you and Miss Goto to join her on the shuttle, Officer Vakarian."

"Tell her I'll be there." Reluctanctly, he dressed and left his sanctuary, swishing his mouth out with alcohol in the galley to wash the rancid taste of vomit from it.

"I regret to inform you that ingesting alcoholic beverages before a mission could compromise the squad and its objectives."

"Think of it as sterilizing mouthwash, I'm not swallowing it." He rolled his eyes at the glowing blue ball.

"Indeed, analysis of the air particles when you exhale suggest less than .0003% blood alcohol level." He wished the AI had a neck to wring, maybe he'd swing by the AI core later and pull some wires, see if that was satisfying, "Commander Shepard is requesting data on, as she puts it, 'Why the hell is it taking so long?'"

"Tell her that her pet computer is flirting with me, thus delaying me." There was silence, he imagined it shocked, nearly laughed out loud when he pictured a woman's face, blushing with jaw agape, hand at chest.

"I was not 'flirting' with you."

"You know I'm irresistible." He drawled, leaning on the console where she, impossible not to think of it as a she, floated, dropping his chin into his palm and tried to make googley eyes at her.

"Shepard is waiting." With that, she popped out of existence. That was almost fun. He couldn't help but to try to get a rise out of the machine. He sauntered to the elevator and pushed the button to make it descend.

Fighting with her again...It was heaven. And it was hell. She still moved like a force of nature, still commanded with such grace. He did everything she asked of him, how could he not. And it physically pained him to look at her, with her placid face so carefully still. It hurt that he couldn't turn away, like she was the sun and he was some kind of plant, drawing nourishment from her presence. She never looked at him, either. It had to be deliberate avoidance. There was a...wall between them now and he had no idea how to breach it, no clue how he would even begin to explain his detestable failures to her. He didn't blame her, not a bit for withdrawing, he was not worthy any more.

Kasumi flitted around the battlefield like a ghost, bringing a very controlled sort of mayhem to the enemy ranks. Her smile was the only thing he could see of her face, it was clear she understood the joy that could be found in battle. Garrus found himself liking the little thief, Shepard had always been good about bringing together opposing disciplines.

Okeer was prattling on about some krogan genetic cloning program to Shepard so Garrus turned his attention to the large tank on his right. He wiped a finger down the fogged glass, collecting condensation on his fingertip. He was forced to re-evaluate his assertion that none of this was real. Only reality was this grimly banal. Even more disquieting, the fact that it took him this long to come to terms with that. Okay, he was alive, Shepard was alive, Ashley...was still dead, the Normandy was resurrected so they could all fight the Reaper threat, or more immediately, the Collectors. Cerberus was throwing credits at them so they could have the best chance possible.

All at once, his mind balked at the prospect that all this was truly real, he'd been barely getting by on the hope that this was a hallucination of sorts. He knees almost buckled then and only a firm hand on his elbow kept him from toppling. Shepard's voice next to him, "Are you okay?"

He nodded, almost violently pulling his arm from her with more force than necessary, noting the flicker in her eyes with shame. There was a lot of shame in him where she was concerned, and oh how it burned. She turned on her heel without another word and with long strides, headed out to where the leader of this group of mercs was shouting over a P.A. system, Kasumi and Garrus were dragged along helplessly in her wake.

It was a long shuttle ride back to the Normandy. The tank was secured in the rear with netting, its contents sloshing gently. Kasumi was taking a nap next to him, bumping his shoulder occasionally. Garrus kept finding that his gaze was drawn to Shepard's hands, she was rubbing her palms together between her knees, elbows resting on her thighs. He was reassuring himself that all ten of her digits were still in place when he noticed that she was staring at his hands. Belatedly, he remembered that he left his gloves off because they were rubbing on the multitude of cuts over his knuckles. He crossed his arms, hiding his hands in the folds of his elbows.

Shepard's eyes drifted up to his, and their gazes locked for a excruciatingly long time. He watched her open her mouth just to close it again. Nothing more than a couple feet of air between them but it felt like a rift, insurmountable and treacherous. Her tongue came out to wet her lips, breathed out a little sigh, and a hardness came into her eyes, flinty and cold and she turned her face from him.

It was like a blow to the stomach, but he was a little glad, too. Maybe she finally saw the flaw in him, would give up on him. But he couldn't deny the anguish he felt.