AN: lol i think i made a mistake - i never plan out ME fic that follow canon b/c the story is like... already written? i'm just, like, putting a spin on it? but for this story that means i'm not 100% certain where i'm going with it... which in turn means it took me longer than i thought to get around to writing this installment. best guess, i'll be splitting ME3 into two parts with the possibility for an epilogue
Shepard locks herself in her cabin. By the end of the hour, the whole crew is abuzz with rumors. The Cerberus crew are taking in hushed voices, something like awe hidden there. The rest of them - *Shepard's* crew - give each other concerned looks. None of them really know what to do. He feels like he's drawn the short straw, because they all look at him expectantly.
Though he hates it, he waits until Hackett leaves.
It's the first time Garrus has dared to step into Shepard's cabin. He hasn't even tried going to this floor of the ship. There's a bit of fidgeting before he gets up the nerve to actually knock.
Without preamble, she opens the door and lets him in.
The room is a mess and Shepard doesn't look much better. None of the crew have seen her in the past 24 hours, and even then not many saw her after she was picked up. The past few days have taken their toll, it would seem. There are dark circles under her eyes and her hair is a mess. Her eyes shine with something wild.
She paces back and forth, and he suspects her mind's doing the same. He ignores the tingling on his hand.
"What happened?"
She's immediately more on edge, though she must have known he'd bring it up. In an unspoken frustration, her hand comes up to rub at the mark on the back of her neck. Garrus starts slightly, having never seen her do it before and surprised at how the nervous twitch seemed practiced. He holds his breath and tries to get a hold of his anger.
Shepard takes a minute to get a handle on herself. He does his best to keep himself calm and allows nothing but soothing thoughts and understanding (though curiosity). Perhaps it's wishful thinking, but it seems to help.
(He's heard of soulmate bonds allowing this sort of shared connection. To consciously send nothing more tangible than emotions. And while he would've liked to believe that's what happened, he knew better. Those types of bonds, well, it couldn't exist when one of the people didn't even *know* about it.)
"I didn't have a choice." Her irritation does little to mask her guilt.
"I believe you." And he means it. She must hear his sincerity, because for the first time, she actually meets his eyes. "But that's not what I asked."
Surprise gives way to resignation. She motions for him to follow as she stalks off to sit on the edge of the bed. He hesitates a moment before sitting across from her on the couch, carefully avoiding the pile of neglected reports.
Shepard leans onto her knees, her head resting in one hand to give her a way to avoid looking at him. The silence stretches out almost uncomfortably between them, but he waits. Slowly, she begins to tell him about it all. Hackett's mission for her and how it all went to hell pretty quickly.
He wants to ask about indoctrination...
(His stomach turns at the thought. That, however slowly, he'd lose her to the Reapers. Would they even notice until too late? Is *he* the last line of defense, the *only* one who would be able to see *feel* the hints? Spirits, he needs her to be okay. The galaxy can't... *he* can't do any of this without her. Would they have to kill her? This is a suicide mission, does any of this even matter?)
Panic wells up inside of him. Saying the words makes the fear real. So instead he lets the terror have free reign for five whole seconds. Then he stamps it down with great precision. Buries it deep down where it'll keep him up at night but won't be peeking out through his eyes every time he looks at her.
She's staring at him, an unreadable look in her eyes. He realizes he hasn't sad anything since she finished. This visit isn't about him and indulging his fears. No, it's about offering what he can to help Shepard.
(She's already beating herself up over this. The *guilt* pouring off of her is so strong, he longs to reassure her. *Needs* to reassure her. But it's not his place. Maybe it should be, but the way things stand and her tentative offer at "relieving stress" gives him no right. She's his commander, a friend. He has to stay within those confines to help her through this.)
Working with the rest of the crew provides the necessary distraction. Everyone's a bit on edge, wary of their own commander, but eventually that gets pushed aside. There are bigger things to worry about than the destruction of a star system.
And how fucked up is that?
Somehow Garrus finds himself on more ground missions. Not that he minds, he's just surprised that Shepard would so obviously show him that much favoritism.
She also visits him more in the Main Battery. Something about being close to him seems to steady her, and though it confuses him, he doesn't say anything.
At one point, she asks him if he's sure. About the two of them. If maybe it'd be weird or something. He thinks about the conversation with Mordin he'd had to endure and acknowledges, at least to himself, that it *is* weird. But not unwanted.
For a brief second, he considers taking the out she's offered. Not because he's not interested. It's just that at this point, he's not sure *she* still is. But the chance at even one night with someone he's come to care about and respect as much as he has Shepard...
She gives him a small smile when he says as much.
When it finally happens, it's not at all like he imagines. He's made a fool of himself when he gets there. It would be so easy to blame his nerves on the impending mission. Of course he knows better. Remembering Omega, he's long since acknowledged that he's willing to die for the right cause. That's not what has his heart beating in staccato. No, it's the human woman standing before him, looking truly vulnerable for the first time.
It's not tender. Maybe in other circumstances it would be. But this? This is rushed and frantic. They're about to die and something's been building between them since they met on the Citadel.
In the aftermath, as she snuggles against him, he chuckles at the mess. They hadn't even managed to wait long enough to undress properly. Her top is still on and he somehow only took one shoe off.
(He was particularly mindful of his gloves. Leaving them on seemed prudent. With his talons, he knew it would be easy enough to explain away should she ask.)
(She didn't.)
Shepard's body is so much cooler than his turian one. Softer, too. He still can't quite get over the hair. The way it shines and pools around her neck. Slowly, he cards his a hand through it. Only once or twice does he let himself trace over the mark on her neck. His own is buzzing from the proximity.
If she notices, she doesn't let on.
The Collector Base is hell.
He thought the whole Saren Citadel disaster had been trying on his nerves. Spirits, this is *so much worse*. There's no respite, his hand practically numb from how hotly it's been burning. Each time Shepard takes a hit, when a bullet happens to knock out her shields long enough to actually hurt her, he grunts in discomfort.
Garrus repeatedly has to shake out his hand, clenching and unclenching it until the dull noise of pain recedes again. He can't afford the stiffness in his trigger finger.
Although the *awareness* of his mark is constant, he has to keep reminding himself that it's *good*. He remembers all too well the sheer *agony* when Shepard had died. The alternating fire and ice pulsing through his veins means danger. But it also means life.
There's a second, a terrible, gut-wrenching second, where his heart stops. He feels *nothing* as Shepard leaps through the air. Instinct is the only thing that saves her as he throws his gun away to reach out and grab for her.
His heart is a jackhammer in his chest. She's barking out orders but he can barely register anything beyond her breathing. He's still got her in his arms, probably too tight. Eventually he feels her pat his arm and he reluctantly lets go.
It's surreal. None of them really believe that they did it *and* survived to tell about it. Garrus shouldn't really be surprised. Commander Shepard works miracles, he's seen it himself.
Maybe it's not that he can't believe that they survived, but rather that this thing he has with Shepard is still going on. They're in the middle of repairs to the ship. The crew needs some down time to relax. And he regularly finds himself in Shepard's bed.
It's temporary and they both know it. Shepard had made it clear to everyone that once the ship's ready, she's dropping them all off at the Citadel (or on some less scrutinized back port like Omega for those wanting to avoid detection and questions). She finally admitted to them all what happened in the Bahak system. It wasn't anything they didn't already know, but it seems important that she actually says the words out loud.
"I'm going to turn myself into the Alliance. I... I can't just pretend that it didn't happen. It did, and even though I stand by the necessity of it... Well, the galaxy may not agree. Anyone not coming with me to Alliance HQ had best be off the ship within two weeks."
There are a lot of whispers at that. This is no longer a Cerberus crew with Shepard's additions. No, they're all Shepard's. It says a lot that they all respect her even more for her decision.
Garrus wants very much to stay with her, but that's selfish and not at all realistic. Whether he's willing to admit it right now or not, he's got his own issues to deal with on Palaven. None of which he's looking forward to, but his people need to be convinced. They need to be ready.
No one does it out loud, but they're counting the days. Ten days since the Collectors. four left until Shepard makes good on her threat. He's spent seven of those nights with her, much like he is now.
They don't always have sex. A couple times he's come up only to find Shepard passed out on the couch. Both times he's merely lifted her and tucked her in, settling in behind her.
Tonight, though, they take a try at tender.
She catches him staring at her tattoo. His hands are running soothing circles along her arm, but when he nuzzles into her hair to breathe her in, he can't help but want to uncover it. To soak in what it means.
He feels like he's been caught doing something he shouldn't have. There's no real reason to explain the guilt that answers the strangled look on her face, but it happens anyway.
His mouth is open to say something *anything* to make this alright, but she finds words first.
"I know you've probably got your own, somewhere." She looks meaningfully at his gloved hands. For a second he freezes, wondering if she knows. But no, her eyes seem to linger on his left hand. "I just want you to know... it doesn't mean anything to me."
Without meaning to, his heart shatters. He's not sure what how that comes across, what look is possibly on his face, but she knows him well enough by now to read *something* in his response.
"I know... Not what you'd expect, right? Everyone's always going on about how *special* these damn things are." She nearly spits out the word.
He's paralyzed. He is not equipped to handle this conversation. All the ways he thought this would happen, this was not one of them.
Unaware of his distress, she sighs and keeps going. "My parents... Well, my dad went through the relay first. Got a mark right here," she points to her clavicle. "Looked like a solar eclipse. My mom didn't go through til later. I don't... I can only imagine how she scoured her body afterwards, looking for that matching mark."
If possible, Garrus' stomach drops further. No. No no no don't say it-
"Not a single one. Matching or otherwise."
Marriages had been torn apart over less. Is this why Shepard's never talked about her parents?
Finally finding his voice, all he can ask is, "And?"
She shrugs, looking away and tracing patterns in the blankets. "They tried not to care. It's not something humans their generation grew up with. It didn't mean to them what it means to the rest of the galaxy." A sigh. "But they fought about it, of course they fought about it." She meets his eyes again. They're glassy and wide but otherwise she's hidden everything else away. "Especially after my dad met *her*."
"Did..." his voice is raspy so he coughs and tries again. "Did your father... did your parents...?"
"They stayed together. I'm not saying it was easy for them, but they're still married. Still love each other. Maybe not the way the galaxy thinks soulmates should love each other." She scoffs at that, anger sneaking in. "But they love each other and are willing to make it work."
He nods because what the fuck do you say to that?
"So you've got someone out there waiting for you, and I guess I got someone out there waiting for me. I just want you to know... I'm not *looking* for them. Whatever you and I have, well, that's for us and not the galaxy to decide."
"Okay." It doesn't sound convincing.
Garrus wholeheartedly agrees with the last part. But as they drift off to sleep in silence, the thought that Shepard actively wouldn't want him if she knew... He's confident it's something that will plague him for some time yet.
It's the last real conversation they have with each other before he's dropped off at the Citadel with Samara. Sure, they see each other, and they talk. They *do*. But it's all technical talk about repairs or concerns about the next couple months.
He remembers the last time he had to leave Shepard. Before Alchera. It makes him reluctant to do so now. In the end, he doesn't even say good-bye before grabbing his things and leaves. Later, once he sees the Normandy has left dock, he feels like an asshole. A message typed out and ready to send, apologizing and-
He deletes it.
The pins and needles feeling in his mark is still there. It's not as constant as it was right after Bahak, but it makes itself known occasionally. Another worry on top of all the other ones. There's nothing he can do to deal with it, so he decides to keep tabs on it for now.
What else can he do?