AN: Yeah this is definitely not what I was supposed to be working on (it's not currently up next on my list of WIPs to work on), but this seemed like the easier choice to write at the moment so it got a little more attention a little sooner than anticipated... Don't expect a quick update for the next part - I gotta get those other WIPs done and I've got two short ficlets I wanna get done first (one of them is a fluffy Shakarian au, so keep an eye out for that if you want a break from the *angst* and *moping*).
I've actually gotten *several* comments recently on fics about my dialogue. I didn't intend to put so much dialogue in this installment (more than usual for me), but it kinda just happened. Oh well?
Garrus' indignant anger follows him all the way to the Main Battery. He's only sort of aware, in a peripheral sort of way, that he may have terrified a young Alliance crewman as he stormed out of the elevator. Alone in the Battery, he only just manages to refrain from punching the bulkhead. Instead he settles for angrily slamming his fist against the console.
It pings angrily in protest. He leans heavily against it, letting his shoulders sag and doing everything in his power to keep from thinking. Only after a good three minutes does he realize it's still pinging and blinking indignantly at him.
A single message is in his inbox. Curious (and desperate for the distraction - even if it means dealing with some galactic catastrophe because at least then it'd be removed from his own life, something tragic but impersonal), he opens it. He wishes he hadn't.
Archangel- Your girl's a mess. Tried to talk some sense into her, doubt it panned out. Fix it before it gets out of hand. -Aria
He reads it a dozen times before deleting it.
Thanks for the head's up.
In annoyance, he blocks the communication channel the message came through, though it's unlikely the asari would try to contact him again. For good measure, he blocks incoming messages from Shepard. There's nothing he wants to hear from her right now, not unless she's willing to say them in person.
The fire of his anger burns out pretty quickly. It takes a while to notice it, longer than it should, but he feels similar to how he did between the Citadel and the start of his quest on Omega. But at least then he had been able to channel the pain he was feeling into a sort of manic energy. Now all he feels is apathy.
He doesn't bother attending debriefings. He highly doubts he'll be picked for field missions and he's not particularly interested in going on them. There are other duties for him to attend to that minimize his need to see, speak to, or think about Jane Shepard.
If she wants space, he'll give her space. And really, now he wants it too.
After lunch one day, Liara asks him if he could stop by to chat about some ship upgrades. He agrees but doesn't bother. Liara was never a good liar, and though being Shadow Broker has helped immensely, he can see the worry in those big blue eyes. And he is definitely not interested.
Two shifts later, he walks into the Battery to get some rest and there she is, leaning against the main console. It should tell him something about the state he's in that he's completely blindsided by it.
"What happened?"
Great, straight to the point then. But his mood is sour and he doesn't want to play nice. "Nothing."
"Garrus," she scolds, getting up. With a hand on his shoulder, she looks at him and forces him to meet her eyes. "Shepard's been off lately, you're clearly not happy... what happened?" There's none of the scolding he expected, just a gentle curiosity.
He sighs heavily. He doesn't want to do this. He lets the seconds tick by, counting them by the beats of his heart (which is so loud, dammit). They both know he's just forestalling the inevitable.
"I showed her." There's more he wants to say, about how Shepard reacted and the fight afterward. But he doesn't have the energy for it. And it's enough, he thinks, to say that much.
"Oh, Garrus." He hates pity and he's not overly fond of hugs, but he accepts them both with a bit of relief. Maybe letting her know isn't the worst thing.
"I don't understand," she says, carefully, as though she's measuring each word, as she pulls away. "Is it... is it that you waited so long?"
He shrugs. "Not really. She doesn't think I care about her, just the marks."
Liara makes a face. Best he can tell, it's somewhere between aghast and taken aback. "What?" There's no need to elaborate, though. As an asari, even a young one, she must have encountered this line of thinking before. People who don't trust that their soulmate actually loves them but rather the idea that they're soulmates. That's the type of thing that can break a couple apart. Has broken plenty. What's one more?
"That's actually... extremely stupid, and I never took Shepard an idiot. Stubborn and impulsive, maybe, but certainly not-"
"Liara, focus."
"Right. Sorry. I just... can't fathom that Shepard can't see how much you lo... care for her."
Neither can he. He's worn it on his sleeve probably since before he was even aware of it. Something disguised as hero worship at first, even if she wasn't a hero back then the way she is now. Long ago it evolved into something else, camaraderie and friendship, then lovers and he dares not put a name on what he feels now. All he can truly say is that it's real, bone deep.
And Shepard doesn't give a damn about it. Doesn't want to hear it. No matter what it is, all he can feels i that it's not good enough.
Liara must see as much in the way he holds himself. She gives his shoulder a firm squeeze. "She'll come around."
He wishes he could believe that.
The days start to run together. He barely notices. He probably would forget to eat if Tali or Liara didn't occasionally pester him. Vega seems to be making an effort to invite him to bars or even just down to work on weapon mods. At first he goes, but more often than not he declines.
His work starts to suffer. At least, he thinks it does. Things are strange with the war - he doesn't really have a boss, not really, and though Shepard's his commanding officer she hasn't given him feedback since the SR-1. But he knows he's not putting in his best effort (which is probably another reason to avoid field missions - no reason to put the crew at risk).
And he finds his mind wandering. Drifting, actually, since he's not really thinking about anything in particular. He loses track of time and finds he's just been staring at some point on the wall.
Any of these things alone should concern him. All of them together more so.
He can't muster up the energy to care.
There's a meeting going on a floor up, something about Eden Prime. At least that's what he heard. Garrus is once again skipping the briefing in favor of other tasks. Instead he'll be working with Victus.
The Primarch was recently transferred to a turian vessel to better oversee their offensive strike (really more defensive, he corrects glumly) against the Reapers. Garrus regularly keeps in contact as a means of helping to coordinate Alliance and Hierarchy military responses. It's tedious work at best, but it's important so he keeps at it.
He commandeers the conference room to open up a comm channel. With Shepard and a few squad members preparing to deploy, he figure sit's a good time to get some work done without the risk of running into anyone he'd rather not have to talk to.
(Not that there's anyone on the ship he particularly wants to deal with right now. But that's a separate issue.)
The call goes through relatively quickly, meaning the Primarch was expecting him. They quickly go through a greeting before Victus sighs and starts setting aside some of the datapads strewn across his desk.
"Problem?" He realizes at the same does Victus does how stupid his question is.
"Only about a million," and there's only the slightest bit of annoyance, "But this one's new."
"Anything I can help with?" Problems require thinking. Thinking requires focus. Focusing on something that isn't how shitty he feels is always a plus.
Victus considers. Whether he's wondering if Garrus can actually help or if the younger turian has the necessary clearance to discuss the matter with, he can't be sure.
"Possibly." He hesitates a second longer before seemingly giving up and plowing on. "The Hierarchy is scouting for soldiers with experience fighting Reaper forces to train younger recruits." The fact that they're desperate for new troops goes unsaid. "I'm looking through some candidates, and since you've been in the field considerably more than I have, perhaps you could help me evaluate them."
"I'll do it." He doesn't even need to think about it.
"Garrus..." His voice is even but there's a warning in his subvocals. "This isn't something you'd be able to do from the Normandy."
"I'm aware."
The warning disappears and now he hears nothing but a trilling curiosity. "You'd be gone for weeks, at least. Won't you be missed here?"
"They'll manage. It's not permanent."
"If you're sure-"
"I am."
They finish discussing the details, arrange a ship to rendez vous with the Normandy. There's one near Eden Prime, so it's actually perfect timing. After a few other issues, not related to this impromptu assignment he's taking on, are hammered out, they close the comm channel.
Weeks! He'll be gone for weeks. It's the best damn news he's heard in a while. And it's probably the lightest his heart has felt in a while.
Calling his departure an "escape" makes it sound cowardly. Probably because it is, in a way. He doesn't tell anyone, just packs up a few things. He gets his duties squared away with a few of the Alliance crew he thinks are up to it. They eye him suspiciously but agree. (Because he's actually giving up control of the guns? Maybe because he's actually in a good mood? Or maybe he's just imagining it.)
The squad heading to Eden Prime is already gone by the time the turian ship arrives. He has a slight argument with Joker, who is damn near appalled that Garrus would be leaving. It takes him some convincing to open up the cargo bay and maintain an acceptable path for docking.
"If this is about Shep-" Joker visibly flinches at the glare Garrus gives him and shuts up.
He sends her a message, as formal as he can manage, explaining his absence. The details are vague, not just because he knows very few of them at the moment but mostly because he really just doesn't give a damn. If she can disappear to Omega and not tell the crew, he can leave to help his own people.
As the shuttle door closes and leaves the Normandy behind, it still feels a bit like running away.
Liara and Tali are pissed. Actually, that's probably an understatement. They are livid. Tali more so that he didn't say anything to her. That's easily remedied with an apology and some begging for forgiveness.
Liara, well, she knows the whole story doesn't she. She ignores the crap he gives her about wanting to help the turians and focuses in on the "being somewhere he's wanted" line he didn't quite mean to slip in.
"You're wanted here."
He rolls his eyes and stops himself. It's a human trait, one he picked up years ago and that gets him shit when he's with other turians. Which he now is. Again. So back to actively trying to blend in with the species he's working with. Honestly, he never thought he'd have to consciously try to be turian.
(He never was a good turian.)
"Well, maybe I don't want to be there."
There's silence on the other end of the comm. The ship that's taking him to the training facility doesn't have the resources to allow for private video links. He's immensely grateful for that.
"Garrus... This is your home. We're your family. All of us have been through so much together. We need you..."
Not all of you.
"Liara," he snaps slightly. He takes a deep breath before starting over. It's not her he's upset with, after all. "Liara, I need to be off that damn ship. For my own sanity."
Silence again. Liara knows it's true, even if she doesn't want to admit it. He's been gone a few hours and already he feels better. Like a weight has been lifted off of him.
"When will you be back?"
"A few weeks, maybe more."
"Maybe more?" She's irritated again, that much is clear. "If they ask you to stay after this batch of recruits, will you?"
"Maybe. I haven't really planned that far ahead."
A sigh rings from the other end of the comm. Obviously that's not what she wanted to hear, no matter how much she expected it. "She misses you, you know."
He laughs. "I haven't been gone long enough to be missed by anyone. Doubt anyone would've noticed I was gone if Joker hadn't told you as soon as you were back on board."
There's a frustrated huff but no words for a moment. He is right, after all. The past few days (weeks? he's not even sure anymore) he's kept to himself so much there's no way she wasn't flat out told he had left. Hell, if they had been on the Citadel there's no telling how long it would've gone before someone actually noticed.
"She will miss you."
All he can do is give a non-committal grunt. "I admire the sentiment, but I think you're trying to convince yourself more than me."
"Oh, she'll miss you alright." There's an unspoken threat in the way Liara says it that makes Garrus almost feel sorry for whatever she's got planned. Almost. "Take care of yourself. I expect to hear from you soon."
"You too. Keep the crew in line and the guns working for me."
"I'm an archaeologist and information hoarder, Garrus. I'm not really in a position to help with that."
"You underestimate yourself."
"Seriously, Garrus. Stay safe."
They close the channel before Liara can get too mopey.
Later, he gets a ping on his omni-tool. Not a request for a transmission, like when he spoke with Tali and Liara. No, it's instead a pre-recorded message. He stares at the screen for a moment, noticing both the length of the message and its sender.
Urgent Message from Commander Jane Shepard, 5.24 minutes.
Hope and anger war within him.
He deletes the message.