4. The Meaning of a Mess

Garrus was trying to finish up his last round of gun calibrations for the night when the door pinged.

EDI let him know Shepard was on the way, so he wasn't surprised. While EDI hadn't given him a reason for the late-night visit, he figured it was about the Thanix upgrade they'd recently installed. Sure, the timing was a little odd, but he knew Shepard kept strange hours. She'd wanted to have a test firing soon, so he'd been calibrating non-stop. If they ran into the Collectors again, he'd make sure the guns were up to scratch.

He pressed a button and the doors swished open behind him. He heard Shepard enter and he smiled, opened his mouth to greet her, then shut his jaws with a soft click when she walked past him without a word.

She planted herself at the railing to his right, looking out over the battery with her back to him.

His fingers hovered over the console's haptic display.

Well, that's odd. She generally paused in the doorway, waiting for him to acknowledge her before entering. It was part of their ritual and the sudden change in paradigm threw him.

His old C-Sec senses awakened from a long slumber, seeking out clues to this strange, new behavior.

Her white, sleeveless shirt just touched the top of her black shorts. No insignia anywhere, so probably not Cerberus-issued. It'd been strange at first seeing her in Cerberus colors. Then he realized Cerberus everything was just part of being on this ship. He'd gotten used to her clothes, like everything else, being plastered with their symbol. He no longer felt even a twinge of discomfort at seeing it.

One of her long, bare legs was wrapped behind the other, cutting off his thought process.

Garrus blinked at the strange flexibility of her knees. He tilted his head, then shook the strange thought away.

Her bare arms were braced against the railing, glittering with sweat. Her shirt clung to her body, tan skin peeking through the white fabric in places.

How had he never noticed just how tiny her waist was before now? Damn, she was shapely. He'd bet he could almost touch his fingertips around her entire waist. And humans were so light, it would be so easy to lift her up and lay her down. That fabric looked thin enough to shred with his talons alone, so he'd have to be careful not to tear it off her.

Wait, what am I thinking? Garrus tore his eyes away, mandibles flared in surprise at his own impropriety.

The only time he'd ever seen her like this was on the first Normandy, and it had been an accidental indiscretion. Shepard was never very formal, but a commanding officer intentionally coming to see a subordinate in such a degree of undress?

The heat that flooded through him had nothing to do with the temperature in the battery. If she were turian, this would be a very different situation.

Realizing the danger of continuing that train of thought, Garrus decided he'd better say something before he embarrassed himself.

"Uh, was there something you needed, Shepard," he asked, thankful she couldn't hear what his sub-harmonics were saying.

"Do you ever think about Saren anymore?"

Garrus's mandibles tightened. "Not really." He saved his work and closed down the console's display. "Do you?"

She shrugged a shoulder, seeming to avoid his gaze. "To me, it doesn't seem like all that long ago we were chasing him across the galaxy."

That was hard to wrap his head around. Saren was little more than a distant memory at this point, a dull, insignificant twinge of irritation at the back of Garrus's mind. Certainly not worth thinking about.

He turned to face her. "What made you ask?"

She gave an uncomfortable sort of laugh, then pivoted toward him, leaning her hip against the metal bar. "I told you about Kasumi's mission on Bekenstein."

Garrus nodded, his mandibles flaring in annoyance. Why Shepard had thought it was a good idea to go without backup, he'd never understand.

She shot him a rueful grin, holding up a hand to forestall his complaint. "Well, Kasumi got our weapons in with a 'gift' to Mr. Hock."

He mimicked her stance, leaning against the battery's console to face her. "A gift?"

"It was a gold statue of Saren, if you'd believe it." She gave an amused huff. "He'd probably have hated that." Then she grimaced. "I was glad to get out of that dress, but it made changing clothes a bit uncomfortable."

Garrus bared his teeth at the idea of it. If anyone had discovered her at that point, things would have gone bad damned quick. Kasumi should have come up with a better way to get her in. The plan was sloppy, and she was lucky Hock hadn't figured things out earlier.

"But, before that," Shepard continued, ignoring his displeasure, "there was this moment. Looking up at it, at him ..." She was quiet, staring past him, and he had a moment of déjà vu. "I still don't know how to feel about him."

"You don't have to feel anything about him, Shepard." He folded his arms. "He's dead."

"I know that, Garrus." She gave a soft laugh, but not a happy one. She was quiet a while, not looking at him. "He was indoctrinated and he didn't even know it. The Council, Sovereign, the geth ... they all used him. No matter what he did, he was never more than a tool."

"It still bothers you, doesn't it?" Garrus frowned.

She had startled when Saren thanked her. When he shot himself, Shepard reeled back and Garrus thought she had been shot too. Then she calmly went to the master control panel and continued the mission like nothing had happened. She'd kept it together until well after the mission was over.

Shepard folded in on herself, shoulders hunched. "He sacrificed himself for nothing. He tried to do the right thing in the end. No one knows about it but us." She turned, pacing. "I can't stop the galaxy from hating him, but they hate him for the wrong reasons."

"So what?" Garrus shifted, trying to hide his irritation. "He still deserves it."

Garrus caught a slight wobble in her steps and wondered if she'd been hurt on the mission. She stopped, turned to him with a strange expression on her face. He wasn't sure how to read it.

Shepard moved to the rail again. "What if I had found Sovereign instead?" She gripped the bar until her knuckles whitened, looking at the Thanix. "What if I were indoctrinated to believe helping the Reapers was the only way to save the galaxy? They would just as easily hate me, too. Would I deserve it?"

No, he wanted to shout. You're nothing like him. He was already a monster, even before Sovereign! He wanted to tell her, but the words wouldn't come.

She sighed. "We still don't know how indoctrination works. But if it can be done, it can be undone, too. I just kept hoping, you know?"

He didn't know. The only regret Garrus had was that by the time he put a round through Saren's head, Saren was already dead.

"After Virmire, I think I pitied him as much as I despised him." Her gaze settled back on him. "I think he'd rather be hated. He was used to hate."

"Lucky him. He gets just what he wanted," Garrus said, not bothering to keep the bitterness from his voice. Maybe the galaxy hated him for the wrong reasons, but he still deserved it. What difference does it make?

"Seeing him again," she said, running her hand through her hair. "Even a statue, brought it all back." She put a hand on the bar, steadying herself. "Sometimes, I just wish ..."

She bent, leaning heavily on the rail. She looked like she was going to be sick.

Garrus could smell a slight, sweet scent and realized with a start that Shepard was probably more than a little drunk.

"Shepard, are you-"

"I can't help him anymore." She turned to him, and he froze at what he saw in her eyes. "Why won't he leave me alone, Garrus?" She turned away.

Garrus took a step forward and stopped. His hands fluttered helplessly by his side.

Shepard took a deep breath. She stood and turned to him.

He opened his mouth to say something.

She cut him off with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I didn't mean to dump all that on you, Garrus. I'll let you get back to work."

Belatedly, he took a few steps after her and stopped. He wasn't sure what he would do if he caught up with her.

I'll give her one thing, Garrus thought, staring at the closed door. I've never seen a quicker, more sudden retreat.

He'd always thought of Shepard unbreakable. Somehow, she always managed to pick herself up and keep going. But he also never thought she could die, and the universe had delighted in proving him wrong on that point.

Were these the cracks starting to show? If Shepard went to pieces, they were in trouble.

And going to pieces because of Saren?

Even in death he had his talons in Shepard. The thought of that pallid, mechanical lunatic made his jaw clench.

That barefaced bastard. Garrus almost wished Cerberus could resurrect him.

He snarled, baring his teeth. I'd tear his throat out, then kill him a few times more just for good measure.

How could she care about that thing? He was scum. Worse than scum.

Garrus's fist shot out, gauntlet clanging harshly against the wall. His knuckles ached from the sudden violence. He was past caring.

He braced himself against the wall, wishing there was something of Saren left so he could rend it to pieces. The look on Shepard's face. It was pain. He hadn't recognized it because he'd never seen it on her before. It didn't belong on her face.

He threw himself off the wall. I shouldn't have let her leave. Garrus stalked the battery, eyes wild with rage.

I should go up there and tell her exactly what I think Saren deserves. He ground his teeth, mandibles spread wide. How can she think about him?

No, this was something he would not stand for. I'll make her forget him.

"Officer Vakarian."

Garrus instinctively spun at the sudden sound, talons at the ready. He lowered them when he realized it was just EDI.

"What is it, EDI?" he growled, trying to force himself into a measure of composure.

"My sensors indicate your heart rate has increased significantly with a substantial rise in your body's stress hormones." EDI's hologram popped up. "Would you like me to alert Dr. Chakwas?"

Garrus imagined the doctor's response. "I don't think that will be necessary, EDI."

EDI paused. "Then this is a response to your conversation with Shepard?"

Under other circumstances, Garrus would have found it funny that he could tell when the AI was being curious and not just making an observation. As it was, it only further nettled him. He displayed his teeth in response.

"Yes," he said, coldly.

"I do not understand," the AI said. "Saren Arterius is deceased. Why does this cause distress?"

He snorted. "That's a long conversation, EDI. Don't you have work to do?"

"I am performing at optimal capacity, Officer Vakarian." The AI managed to sound polite and affronted by the question.

Garrus almost laughed. "Yeah, I'll bet." He turned, walking to the battery.

Calibrations were out of the question. As bad as his hands were shaking, he'd probably wind up undoing most of his work anyway. And it's not like the AI has anywhere to go. He put his hands on the console to steady himself.

"It's like this," he started, trying to find a way to explain things like bad memories and anger to an AI. "We spent a long time hunting Saren down."

"Yes," EDI said. "The mission reports are logged in my databanks."

"Then you know Saren shot himself." Garrus's mandibles dropped in a snarl. "I wanted that bastard dead from the start, but not Shepard." He turned to look at the orb over his shoulder, a grin on his face that no one would mistake for happiness. "No. She wanted him to see reason," he drew the word out venomously. "Tried to give him a second chance. Instead, he blew his brain out."

"And this upsets you," EDI asked, her holographic 'eye' blinking.

"Upsets me?" Garrus chuckled, low and bitter. "I say it's cause for a damn celebration. But Shepard is funny like that." Garrus turned back to the main gun. "She felt bad for Saren. Sovereign indoctrinated him." He scoffed. "Never mind that he was a torturer and murderer even before that."

"If his death does not upset you," EDI said from behind, "what is causing your distress?"

Garrus wheeled, leveling a glare at the blue orb. "Really, EDI?"

The AI paused, blinking. "Observation suggests Shepard's mental state is the source of your present stress," she offered tentatively. "However, Saren Arterius seems to be the focus your anger."

"You've got that right," Garrus growled.

"This suggests that you hold him responsible for Shepard's current state," EDI said. "But Saren Arterius is dead. It is illogical for him to be responsible."

Garrus barked a laugh. "We organics aren't always logical, EDI." He walked to the rail, leaning back against it. "Saren may be dead, but Shepard's memory of him isn't."

"You are angry at Saren because Shepard remembers him?"

"Yes! No. Well, kind of." Garrus paused, rubbing his neck in annoyance. "Shepard sees his death as a failure. Her failure." He snarled again. "She blames herself for what he did."

"She could not control his actions," EDI stated.

"I know." Garrus almost choked on his frustration. The damn AI can see it, so why can't you, Shepard? He pushed himself off the rail. "She's tormenting herself because of him! And he never deserved her sympathy in the first place."

"I see." The blue orb blinked. "Then you are angry because you do not like Shepard feeling upset for someone you consider unworthy of her attention."

Garrus opened his mouth to deny.

"I find organics difficult to predict," EDI continued, cutting off his protest. "Your emotions do not follow logical order, but this makes you interesting to observe." The orb flickered. "However, in conversations on the Normandy, Shepard shows a very high success rate at predicting the emotions of others."

"She does have a talent for that." Garrus crossed his arms. "A talent that usually gets us neck-deep in trouble. And mercs, on occasion."

"I once asked her what process she used to make her predictions," EDI said. "Her answer was not very clear, though she mentioned 'putting herself in someone else's shoes.'"

Garrus shook his head in exasperation. "Sounds like Shepard."

The hologram blinked. "An extranet search revealed this to be a human colloquialism describing empathy. Her answer suggests she assumes the other person's emotions mirror her own if she were experiencing the situation."

He started pacing the battery again. "Yes, I'd say that's an accurate description of empathy," Garrus said, making sure his voice dripped with sarcasm.

"In that case," EDI replied, "her ability to empathize is important to how she processes information about her surroundings. Based on observation, her ability to predict others' emotions and actions determines her decisions. Asking her not to utilize this function would compromise her ability to act."

"I'm not saying she shouldn't try to understand, EDI," Garrus snapped. "Just that she shouldn't let it bother her."

"Feeling the emotions of others is a part of empathy by definition, is it not?"

"So I just shouldn't worry about it," Garrus demanded, a surge of anger returning. "I'm not going to sit by and let her suffer."

"I am sure she appreciates that, Officer Vakarian," EDI replied. Garrus wondered if he had actually heard a hint of smugness or if it was just his imagination. "When in distress, she asked specifically about you."

Garrus froze in place. "S- she did?"

"Yes," EDI said. "It is logical to assume she values your opinion."

Garrus wasn't sure what to say to that. Instead, he asked, "What is she doing now?"

"I am afraid I cannot answer that," EDI replied. "The Commander has stipulated that the happenings in her quarters are private." The 'eye' blinked. "However, I can tell you that she is not in any danger."

"Somehow, that's less than encouraging, EDI." Garrus rubbed his neck awkwardly.

"My apologies. My data on organic emotions are insufficient to be adequately encouraging." EDI paused. "That was a joke."

Garrus snorted. "I think you need more practice."

"Yes. Were you volunteering assistance, Officer Vakarian?"

"I'm probably not the one to ask about that," Garrus said, leaning back against the battery. "Thanks, EDI."

"You are welcome." The blue orb popped out of existence. "Goodnight, Officer Vakarian."

"Yeah," Garrus mumbled. "You too."

A.N.: The end! Well, unless I get some strange urge to write more. Which I doubt, but who knows? In any event, this was all that was planned.

This chapter fought me like whoa. I'm not satisfied, but I'm tired of poking at it. Gah. At least it's an end, even if it's an imperfect one.