Drunk on Aluminum - Wintersleep

Vakarian, you are the biggest fool in the history of turian kind.

He was staring at his terminal, his mouth open wide in shock. He read the message over and over, hoping he was reading it wrong every time, hoping that there was a mistake, hoping it was another Shepard.

Garrus,

I'm sorry that I have to be the one to break the news to you, but I don't want you to hear it from anyone else. Shepard has been designated as killed in action. The Normandy was taken down by a ship of unknown origins, and most crew members were saved by Shepard's brave actions; unfortunately, she didn't make it. I know that you were very fond of Shepard, and I feel your pain - she was like a daughter to me. Her body hasn't be recovered, but we'll be having a memorial service at the Presidium next Thursday. I hope you can make it. Send me a comm wave to receive a time and coordinates.

Sincerely,

Captain David Anderson

Shepard was gone now. The greatest Commanding Officer he had ever met, lost on a shakedown mission the Council created to disguise the Reaper threat. He never had the chance to tell her how he felt, to tell her how much he cared. He never had the chance to hold her, to feel her soft skin and to smell her hair. But now she was gone, killed in action, and he'd never have the chance to see her or talk to her again.

He let out a feral growl, pain coursing through his body in agonizing waves. He wanted to throw things, to hurt things, to shoot things.

He began pacing his small apartment on the Citadel. He would go to the memorial service - of course he would, it would be a dishonour to Shepard not to go. After the service, he had to change his life. He had to do something to honour her memory and all the wisdom she had passed on to him. He may start his search for his place in the galaxy at the Citadel, but he could not stay here. It bore too many painful memories of his time with Shepard.

Covering his face with his taloned hands in an attempt to contain the agony, his thoughts drifted back to happier times two months prior, after Saren had been defeated. The Citadel was in shambles, but after her recovery from her injuries, Shepard insisted the crew meet at Flux so she could thank them properly for all their hard work. He also knew it was the unspoken opportunity to say goodbye.

The party, for all intents and purposes, began calmly - a few tables in the club were filled with the crew members, sipping on their drinks and chatting animatedly among themselves. Even Shepard was drinking, something Garrus hadn't seen until that day. As the alcohol was consumed in plentiful amounts, the tables were pushed together and stories began to be exchanged.

"Hey Shepard! Remember that time when we almost killed each other?" Wrex roared, laughing heartily as he held his drink up for a toast.

"The only human to calm down a krogan!" Ashley replied, tapping her glass against Wrex's and Shepard's as the three of them finished their drinks.

"How about the time when Shepard, Ashley, and Garrus flipped the Mako, and we had to drop down in the shuttle to rescue them?" Tali added, laughing lightly.

"I'm officially sending a requisition to the Alliance: send me a new ground transport! I'm never driving that damn Mako again!" Shepard responded, waving to the bartender for another round.

"It's not the Mako's fault you're a bad driver!" Garrus chimed in.

A hushed 'ooooh' of anticipation went through the crowd, and Shepard stood up and jokingly waved her fists at Garrus. He noticed that she was wavering on the spot - she must have had more to drink than he had originally anticipated.

"Let's do this." Garrus stood up and beckoned to her with his talon.

"I'll take you on the dance floor, Vakarian."

"This I have to see," Wrex growled.

"Bring it, Shepard. We'll have the crew be the judges. DJ! Play something fast and loud."

The two of them turned to face each other on the dance floor, intense looks on their faces.

As soon as the song started, Shepard started moving so quickly, her limbs reaching so far out, that she was a danger to those around her. Disgusted looks on their faces, the crowd moved to the edges of the floor to avoid her. It was amazing that a woman that was so graceful on the battlefield could have such an absolute lack of grace on the dance floor. Garrus responded by making similar movements, waving his arms, his legs, even his head. He hadn't the fainted idea what the song was, nor did he much care; he didn't remember having this much fun in many years. She reached and grabbed his hands and began spinning him wildly in circles, laughing so hard that her whole body was shaking until she fell onto the floor and began laughing even harder. Before he knew it, Garrus was on the ground beside her, his sides in pain from laughing so hard and being unable to stop.

When both of them caught their breath, they stood and faced the crew, bowing. Joker held up a sign with a fat "2" on it, Adams a sign with an "8", and Liara, a sign with a "10".

"Thank you, thank you," Shepard said, bowing to each of her crew members. "But I think it's time for all of us to get some rest. Wrex, Tali, Liara, Garrus, you all have big days ahead of you while the rest of us idiots stay on the Normandy chasing false geth leads." She sat and held up her nearly empty glass. "But first, a toast to those who have sacrificed themselves for us to be here. To Nihlus, to Jenkins, and to Kaiden. May they always be remembered as heroes."

With somber expressions on their faces, the crew tapped their glasses together and drank in silence.

The crew finished their drinks and began making their way out the door, and Shepard waited for them at the exit to shake their hands and say a few words of thanks. Garrus sat waiting at the table, nursing the last of his drink, not wanting the night to end.

When the rest of the crew had left, Shepard sat next to him, pulling his attention away from his thoughts. "Don't you need to get some rest, Garrus? You have your big meeting with the Executor tomorrow you have to prepare for."

"Yeah, I'm just-" he paused, unsure of how to properly articulate himself. "I'm thrilled there's even a remote possibility that I could become a Spectre. Having my own ship, finally getting a chance to bend the rules a little bit. But…"

He stared down into his drink, his brow plates furrowed. "I'm really going to miss being on the Normandy. I'm going to miss having you as my Commanding Officer!" He looked up into her eyes and laughed gently. "I never thought I'd say that. You spend your whole life wanting to make it to the top, and now that I have the chance, I just want to stay as a subordinate. But you've just been the best damn CO I've ever worked with."

She smiled at him warmly and placed her hand on his leg. "I'm so proud of how far you've come, Garrus. But remember, I'm not dying! I'm still just a comm wave away. I'll miss you too, Garrus, so I expect daily messages, at minimum."

His moment had arrived. He had to tell her how he felt. He just had to throw his pride out the window and admit it.

But she had been drinking, and he was sure she had a lot on her mind. His gut instinct was telling him that it wasn't the right time. They would reunite when he had his own ship and Spectre status, and he would tell her then. For now, he was just happy to know she wanted to hear from him after she left. "Of course," he said. "Every day. I'll need some Spectre advice, you know."

"Get some rest and enjoy your last night on the Normandy. I expect to see you up at 0700 to send us off."

Garrus wasn't surprised to find that while lost in his memories his feet had carried him to a shooting range down in the wards. He pulled out his HMWSR VII and channeled his pain and his anger through his shots, imagining that every target was the invisible enemy that had taken down Zoey Shepard.

His Shepard.