The forest of ash and whispers was around Shepard again. The ghostly child she resented chased her among the charred stumps yet again, in a mocking reverse of her dreams before the Crucible. This time, it was her who was on the run, rising clouds of ash in the air as she tried to escape the apparition.
"Running away again?" The voice she dreaded the most rose above the chant of whispers. "That's what you do."
Shepard stopped dead in her tracks, afraid to look at the spiky form approaching her. Not him. Please. Not him, something inside her pleaded with whatever higher power willing to listen.
"The paths are open, but the choice is yours." The Catalyst caught up with her. She could see the swirly glow with the corner of her eye.
"Please. Stop. Both of you. Please," she whined. Ever since she started seeing the Evil Garrus, these dreams have gotten more intense. Even though she knew they were just dreams somewhere in the corner of her mind, she couldn't break them. She was left at the mercy of the ghosts and monsters in her head, helpless and broken, her will drained.
"You did good, child. You did good. I'm proud of you."
Shepard blinked in surprise. She hadn't heard this voice… ever since those words were spoken in the waking world. It was so good to hear it.
"Anderson?" she called out half-heartedly, not really hoping for an answer. The script dictated by her memories demanded silence at this point.
"I'm here, child."
Shepard's head snapped back in surprise. Something worked in her favor while she was in the forest? That wasn't supposed to happen.
The familiar form of her father-figure appeared next to her, and the entire scene suddenly seemed less… dreadful. The voices were quieter. The accusing forms and burning shadows of the people she knew faded a little.
"Let me take you out of here," Anderson said. Shepard let him take her hand, like she was a little girl again, and he dragged her away from the two apparitions she hated. The forest faded around her as they walked, leaving them in complete darkness.
Anderson stopped and turned to face her. "You haven't failed me," he said.
"You…" She swallowed hard. "You died before that damn elevator took me to the Crucible. You haven't seen what I did there."
"I was talking about the Crucible. Nobody's blaming you about that but yourself."
She wanted to tell him how that isn't true, how she could see anger and hatred in the eyes of those who had someone die in the aftermath of the blast, but didn't get that chance. With a jolt, she found herself back in the real world again.
She sat up and gasped, waiting for two plated arms to grab and embrace her. As if on cue, Garrus sat up and did so in the next moment.
"You alright?" he asked, his subvocals heavy with concern.
"Yeah," she lied. She wasn't alright. "Just the usual nightmare. The forest and all."
She didn't want to tell him that the evil version of him started appearing there, too, and that it was Anderson who "rescued" her this time, not him. She wondered if that had something to do with his increased concern in the last few days. Garrus would call home several times from work, although he never did that before. When he'd get home, he would follow her every move, as if he expected her to throw a fit or set the apartment on fire or something. If he wasn't doing that, he tried to make her go outside, as if he had forgotten about the damn suit and how she hated it.
With a small sigh she leaned into him and let him pull them both down, still in a hug. It wasn't fair to think like that. After all, she started seeing things in the waking world. His concern was completely reasonable. Still, it was so damn annoying to be treated like a time bomb. Maybe she should've kept quiet about it, after all.
No. Today was Garrus' day off. He was finally free of the stress of his job for a day, and she won't add to it. She should probably try and do something for him, just for him. But to do that, she shouldn't be cranky, and to not be cranky, she should…
"Get some more sleep." Garrus echoed her thoughts as they lay together. Somehow, that was annoying, too. Did he had to watch over her every thought and emotion? She liked him better when he wasn't tracking her every move.
Feeling shocked and appalled at her own thoughts, Shepard shuddered slightly, hoping that Garrus didn't notice. What was happening to her? She was usually grateful for his concern, but right now it felt like an invasion on her privacy. Did he deserve this after all he's been through? No. No, he didn't, the rational part of her mind said. You deserve better, the other part kept whining.
Shepard squeezed her eyes shut. This wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. There was no peace left for her anywhere in this galaxy. Even her last safe haven, the small circle of Garrus' arms and the pillow of his chest plates was compromised.
"You did good, child. You did good," she repeated in her mind. Anderson had replaced her father after she was orphaned on Mindoir, and if he said that he didn't blame her about the Crucible, then maybe, maybe she could forgive herself.
Unless, of course, it was just her wishful thinking. Still, it helped her find sleep again.
Garrus watched Shepard fall asleep. It reminded him of the night three days ago, only this time they weren't exhausted from the amazing sex. Ever since she had told him about the hallucination of him, Shepard's been trying to move on like nothing happened, but at the same time grew distant from him at an alarming rate.
Shepard rolled away from him in her sleep, as if trying to confirm his thoughts. He didn't follow, letting her have some room. He might have become overprotective ever since the talk with Chakwas, but it he couldn't help himself. There was a difficult road ahead of them.
All was prepared. Chakwas had promised to put them in touch with the best psychologist she knew, who was even willing to come to Palaven. Since Garrus' previous experience with human psychologists was limited to Kelly Chambers, he had some initial misgivings, but one vid call was enough to calm him down. The nice doctor was completely professional and lacked any of the annoying bubbly energy he came to associate with Chambers. He even managed to get Liara to monitor all newsfeeds and plug any possible leaks before they even appear. There was only one tiny thing left – to inform Shepard.
Garrus sighed inwardly and even let out a small audible groan. Before the hallucination incident, he thought he could talk about anything with Shepard. The last few days had proven him otherwise. He was looking for the right opportunity, but it just refused to present itself. Shepard was doing her best to act like nothing has happened, but the more she tried the more he was convinced she's been just trying to run away. And, much to his dismay, the running away wasn't just limited to recent events.
His mandibles stiffened at the thought of the past year. Shepard's refusal to come out of the house wasn't just caused by the enviro-suit. All this… domestic business she buried herself in was just an attempt to escape her past. Her collection of model ships was still packed tight in the crate he put them in when he left the Normandy for good. Boo, the space hamster, ended up in an animal shelter before they left Earth. The fish had died in his "care" while the ship was stranded, and Shepard didn't seem to regret it one bit. He had suggested getting a fish tank in their apartment, but she outright refused it. Unlike him, the mere sight of a gun unnerved, even frightened her, so he had to hide his little trips to the shooting range after work.
The signs were all there, and he was finally able to see them clearly. What he needed to do was to stop watching her every move, waiting for the right time and right way to word it and just… say it. If he keeps up with this, they're only going to get more distant and… she needed him. Whether she liked it or not. With another heavy sigh, he decided it was going to be today, no matter how Shepard reacts. He'd been delaying long enough.
Garrus glanced at the bedside clock. It was still too early to get up, but he was too restless to stay in bed any longer. Shepard was still asleep, peacefully. Good. She needed it. He'll make himself useful and make breakfast for a change. Right. Nothing could go wrong. There were many extranet sites with detailed instructions on how to make levo food. It couldn't be that difficult. With that in mind, he got out of bed as quietly as possible.
Lingering in the door of their bedroom, Garrus turned around and admired Shepard's curved form and messy strands of her floppy fringe… hair. She was still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, his love, his bondmate. What he was going to do was for her own good.
"Morning, sweetie!" Garrus suddenly heard himself say as he walked in the kitchen. "Look, I made breakfast! Oh, and I scheduled an appointment with a psychologist later today. What a fun way to spend my free day, isn't it?"
This was going to be a rough day.
Shepard awoke to the sound of Garrus' voice.
"So much about doing something for me today."
She rolled over and saw him lying next to her with a disappointed look on his face.
"Finally awake. Are you going to spend the entire day here? Don't you have breakfast to make?"
The sun shone brightly through the window.
"Come on, hurry up! It's my day off, I want to enjoy it!"
Shepard blinked sleepily several times, trying to get her bearings. Garrus was overly concerned lately, yes, but never this annoyed with her. So this had to be…
"Go away," she growled, grabbing the pillow from under her head and throwing it at the figure next to her. It passed right through it.
So she was right.
The hallucination was unfazed. "Hitting me? Your love? I didn't expect that from you."
Why wouldn't it disappear when she became aware it wasn't real, like a good hallucination should? Why did it have to torture her for on and on and on?
"Please?" she tried. "Go away."
"Now, now. Be good and make me my breakfast," the hallucination mocked. The mischievous glare in its eyes made her want to scream. It looked exactly like Garrus when he'd mock her about one thing or another. Were those jokes as harmless as she thought them to be… or was there more to them? Was she really a bad wife?
No. Those were nighttime thoughts, when she's trapped in that forest and unable to tell what's real and what's not. When she was awake… she knew that Garrus loved her and cared about her. The jokes were just his way of deflecting difficult questions with humor.
"Garrus loves me. You're not him," she stated, staring at the hallucination's blue orbs. "Now go away."
"If I'm not him, then where is he? Shouldn't he be here if he loves you like you say?"
Feeling her stomach sinking, Shepard realized that she doesn't know the answer to that question. Where was he? She would usually get up first and wake him, then make breakfast for them both. Was this really… him?
It couldn't be. The pillow passed through this… abomination. It wasn't him. But where was he? Did he had enough of her coldness and distance in the past few days and left her?
Panicking, Shepard jumped to her feet and ran out of their bedroom, still in her underwear.
"Run, Shep, run. That's what you do," she heard Garrus' voice behind her. Like in her dreams. No place was safe. Tears filled her eyes and she couldn't see where she was going. Her side slammed in a piece of furniture, making her lose her balance. In the next moment she ended up on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.
The door to the kitchen opened and Garrus emerged, drawn to the commotion. She could also smell coffee, eggs, toast and the unmistakable smell of whatever passed for dextro bacon. Garrus' favorite.
So he didn't leave her. How stupid of her to think that. He was making her breakfast while she was sleeping in. He loved her. He cared.
Garrus walked over to her and gently helped her up. "Again?" was all that he said.
She nodded, still unable to stop the tears. It was so damn embarrassing to cry, but she couldn't help herself. She buried her face in his shoulder, shying away from his eyes.
"Shep… sweetie… love of my life," he began. There was something about his tone that made her heart sink despite the L-word. What was he about to say?
He hesitated, making her even more worried. She was afraid to lift her head and look at him, so she just waited.
"You can't go on like this," he continued. "You need help. Professional help."
The last two words were spoken through heavy subharmonics, making them difficult to understand for human ears. For a moment, she even thought she had heard him wrong.
"I even… made arrangements," he finished, still through that heavy coat of subharmonics.
She lifted her head at that and looked at him. There was nothing but deep concern and care stamped across his face, but she still backed away from him as the meaning of his words sunk in.
"No… No! You're working behind my back, trying to get rid of me!" she growled. It felt so terrible to growl at him when he had that expression on his face, but she really, really didn't want to get locked away.
"Shep, no. The doctor will come here. Private sessions. No one will know. Trust me."
The words refused to register properly. No matter how he put it, the meaning was that she was a loony in need of a shrink. Maybe even meds? Has anything good ever came out of those?
"No!" she screamed. "I don't need it! I can handle it on my own!"
"You can't," he said sadly and tried to reach for her. She dodged his grasp and ran back to their bedroom, locking the door behind her. Luckily, the Evil Garrus was gone and she was alone with her thoughts and tears.
The real Garrus (presumably) banged on the door from the outside but she just collapsed on the bed and continued to sob in the pillows. The Evil Garrus was a figment of her imagination, but he got at least one thing right.
She was running away from her problems.
Garrus returned to the kitchen, admitting defeat. He could have forced his way in the bedroom, but something told him that wouldn't be the smartest thing to do. Shepard was… in an obviously volatile state. He wasn't feeling much better, either.
The uneaten breakfast sat on the table, and he had to fight the urge to splatter it all over the walls. He couldn't allow himself to do that. If he doesn't keep control, they're both doomed.
What now?
This wasn't something he had experience with. He couldn't force her to start therapy if she really didn't want it. Or could he? Should he?
He was about to turn his omni-tool on and call Dr. Chakwas to inform her about this setback and ask what the hell was he supposed to do now, when he heard the door to their bedroom open. He froze, listening to the shuffling steps approaching.
Shepard appeared in the kitchen's doorframe, her eyes red and swollen, but somehow more composed at the same time. The way how she held her chin was almost… proud.
Her gaze fixed him for a long time before she finally spoke: "I don't want to run away anymore."
Garrus knew what it meant. The warm feeling of relief washed over him. She was going to get better, he was now sure.
