Everlasting Light - The Black Keys

Shepard stood at a silent vigil in the corner of the medbay, her eyes never leaving Garrus. She kept wondering to herself: could she have watched him better? Kept a better eye on his six? Could she have saved him if she had done a better job of sabotaging the gunship? Or if she had arrived earlier?

She began pacing on the spot, her heavy boots loud on the ship's hard floor. She was still wearing her complete armour, Garrus's blood strewn across it as a reminder of her failure as a leader.

"Commander." Doctor Chakwas's soothing voice interrupted her pacing. "Although I'm thrilled you care so much about your team, I need my medbay to work. Do you mind..."

Shepard acquiesced to leaving the medbay, shooting a last furtive glance at Garrus. As soon as the doors shut behind her, she leaned her back against the wall nearest to the door and closed her eyes.

She could smell Jacob's cologne before she heard his voice notifying her of his presence. Clearly showering had been his highest priority after finishing the mission. "Commander?"

"Yes, Taylor."

"May I suggest staying in the briefing room? I can come get you when we have news. Doctor Chakwas has requested my assistance with the procedure in the meantime." He flashed a sparkling white smile at her. "Besides, there's lots of room to pace in there."

She waved him off with a blood-covered hand, accepting her medical dismissal.

"Just get me as soon as you have news," she said, walking towards the elevator.

As the doors to the elevator closed, she slipped down the wall and held her face in her hands, her scream of frustration muted by her gloves.

Garrus dreamed. Although his dreams were mostly bright shapes and colours moving without a distinct pattern, a few of his dreams were as clear as waking.

One of the dreams was a memory. It was back on the original Normandy, after Noveria. Shepard and he were inside the Mako, and Shepard was completely taking apart the dashboard to change the heater core, which had blown at the very end of the mission due to the planet's sub-zero temperatures.

Shepard's upper body disappeared as she climbed under the dashboard, only her legs and one of her hands sticking out. "Pass me a 15mm wrench. It's in the bigger tool box."

Garrus dutifully handed her the wrench and continued to watch her work. Although he was an expert at anything to do with calibrations or engine computers, Shepard had an unbeatable knowledge of any vehicle's mechanical components.

"How did you become so proficient with mechanics?" Garrus asked as he took the wrench from her and handed her an impact gun.

"Do you want the long story or the short story?"

"Give me the long story. I'm not going anywhere any time soon."

"Hand me a towel then, and the spray bottle of lubricant in the small bag."

He did as she requested, and she sprayed the lubricant over the seized bolts and used the towel to wipe off the grease that splashed back onto her face.

"Put the 17mm socket on the impact gun, would you?" She quickly removed two of the bolts before beginning her story. "It began when I was a kid. Did you know I grew up almost entirely on spaceships?" Garrus shook his head. Feeling foolish at the realization that she couldn't see him, he said, "No. But, between growing up on ships and being a mechanic, you're basically a honourary quarian."

She laughed lightly. "Haven't heard that one before, but I suppose it's true. Anyways, from the age of about six on I had a constant routine with my family. I'd wake up at oh-six-hundred hours, have a shower, and have my breakfast with my parents and brother."

"You have a brother?"

"Yes, Malcolm. He's five years younger than me. I had an older sister as well but... that's a story for another time. Can you pass me a pair of vice grips?"

Garrus obliged, and Shepard continued with her story. "After breakfast, I'd spend my mornings with my mother. We'd do my lessons - geometry, calculus, physics, chemistry, English, French, that sort of thing - for the first two hours or so of my day-"

"You speak other human languages?"

"Just one. Please take these vice grips and hand me the needle nose pliers. Not those ones, the ones with the blue handle." She emitted a grunt of effort. "My mother grew up in France, so in spite of universal translators she found it important for me to learn French. So after my lessons, my mother would have to make her rounds around whichever ship we were on at the time, inspecting everything mechanical to make sure that it was sound. I'd follow her on the rounds and she would teach me everything that she was inspecting and working on at the time. She was a very hands-on teacher, so by the time I was eleven or twelve and more dexterous, she had me taking over a lot of the basic work like oil changes and changing belts. By the time I was seventeen, she had me doing everything and she would just supervise. It may seem lackadaisical of her, but it taught me so much that I'm eternally grateful. Take this old core away and pass me that new one, as well as that impact gun with the 17mm socket again.

"Afternoons were spent with my father. He taught me history, not just of the humans but of all the races, and everything related to ships and space travel. He also taught me how to harness my latent biotic abilities and how to shoot a pistol. After my time with my father, which was until about fifteen hundred hours, I would have my exercise time. When I was quite young it usually meant running around the ship pestering various occupants, but as I grew older it became hand-to-hand combat against training mechs and a lot of running on a treadmill. By the time I had enlisted and joined basic, they'd try to make me run and do push-ups for punishment but I considered it the most fun part of the day."

"How often did you change ship assignments?"

"We bounced between ships frequently, every six months or so. My mother's mechanical expertise was a hot commodity. My dad had a great shot, so they'd often send him on ground missions or use him for training new recruits, but my mom was the reason we were so in demand. They'd give her a shuttle that three other mechanics tried to fix, she'd look underneath it, and in five minutes she knew what was wrong. She's a real genius. I only have half of her natural ability."

"You mentioned that your biotic abilities are latent. You don't have implants?"

"Eezo exposure in the womb. They had to send my mother onto the ground to fix a broken transport once, she didn't know she was pregnant at the time and they were only about 500 metres away from raw eezo. I'm lucky I'm even here. 15mm torque wrench please. The big one. Enough about me, though, what's your story?"

"My family has always been well known on Palaven, and my father..."

The dream started to fade out, replaced again by odd shapes and colours. He could faintly hear far-off voices speaking about scars and grafts, but nothing was distinguishable.

He found himself in another dream, not a memory but just as clear. He was standing on a rocky pier, facing a vast blue ocean touched by the colours of the sunrise. Shepard was standing on the edge of the pier, both her hair and her flowing white dress dancing in the wind. She was gazing off into the water, the sunrise illuminating her outline.

Garrus approached her and she turned around to face him. She looked up into his blue eyes with her light brown ones, and she smiled so faintly before she closed her eyes. Garrus leaned down, touching his forehead to hers before he closed his eyes as well.

"Come back to me, Garrus. I need you."

When Garrus opened his eyes, he was no longer at the ocean; he was at the operating table, and Doctor Chakwas was looking down at him, smiling. "Welcome back. Good to see you, Garrus."

Garrus sat up slowly. His whole head hurt and he felt extremely numb and disconnected from his body.

"Easy, Garrus," Chakwas said, putting her hand on his shoulder to try and ease him back on the bed. "You've been through a lot and you need your rest."

"I need to see Shepard," he said, swinging his long legs over the side of the bed, using extra caution with his sensitive spurs. "I'll rest after."

"I can just page her, she'll be-"

"Don't worry about me, Doctor." He stood up slowly, feeling everything spinning around him. He was determined to go upstairs and see Shepard, so he flashed the doctor a confident smile. "I'll be right back."

He strolled out the door, walking with as much confidence as possible before he realized that he had no idea where he was going. "Doctor, where is our good Commander?"

Karin laughed gently. "Up the elevator to the second floor, left out the elevator, left into the armoury, another left, and the briefing room will be on your right."

"Second floor, left, left, left, right. Got it. By the way... thank you, Doctor."

Garrus turned and headed towards the elevator, his mandibles fluttering into a smile at the thought of the expression on Shepard's face when she saw him walking around the ship already.

Garrus heard Jacob speaking to Shepard as he approached the briefing room. "We did what we could for him, but it was a bad hit. There will be permanent scarring..."

The door opened before Garrus, revealing the meticulously clean briefing room with its pristine oak table, holographic model of the Normandy, and two humans with very surprised expressions.

"Tough bastard, didn't think he'd be up yet." Jacob crossed his arms and looked up at Garrus with an expression of approval.

"How bad is it?" Garrus asked, facing Shepard. "No one will give me a mirror."

"Hell, Garrus, you were always ugly. Slap some face paint on there and no one'll even notice."

Garrus laughed, cringing immediately at the wave of pain it sent through his face. "Women like scars. Mind you, most of these women are krogan."Or hopefully human...

"Jacob, do you mind giving us a couple minutes?" Shepard asked.

As soon as Jacob left the room, she ran up to embrace Garrus in a tight hug, setting his heart ablaze. Her voice muffled by his cowl, she said, "It's so good to have you back, Garrus. I'm so glad you're ok."

"What's the story, Shepard? Two years ago you were doing shakedown missions for the Alliance, then you die, and now you're here? I went to your funeral, Shepard. I'm glad to see you but I'd like to know what's going on."

"I did die, Garrus. Cerberus spent billions to bring me back. The Collectors are abducting entire human colonies and they wanted to bring me back to find out why." Shepard let out a sad sigh. "It's all been so confusing, Garrus. I remember dying, I remember strange dreams, and when I woke up I was in a Cerberus medical facility that was under attack. Miranda and Jacob... they're good people, but I don't trust them. I don't trust Cerberus."

She turned away from him. "There's more, Garrus. EDI?"

"Yes, Commander Shepard?"

"Privacy level Alpha in the briefing room. I mean it. I'll give you back to the Illusive Man in pieces if anyone other than Garrus and me hear this conversation."

"Understood, Commander. Logging you out."

"Ship VI?" Garrus asked, crossing his arms.

"AI, actually."

"After everything we went through fighting Saren you trust an AI?"

She turned to walk. "Trust is a strong word. But I don't have much of a choice, it came with the ship."

At least she doesn't call it she.

Shepard was on the opposite side of the table now, her weight on her hands that were pressed into the oak.

"Listen, Garrus. The whole place is bugged so they'll hear us anyways and I know you're exhausted but... I've really needed someone to talk to about this and you're one of the few people in this galaxy that I trust."

She let out a long sigh, her brow furrowed. Human facial expressions were incredibly exaggerated and easy to read compared to turians. Right now, he could tell that she was fighting to hold something back, and it was frustrating her.

"They've changed you," he muttered, walking closer to her so he could scrutinize her face. "Your scar is gone. Your nose, eyes, and lips are different. Why did they change you?"

"To make me more 'marketable'. Apparently the face I was born with wasn't good enough for them." She laughed harshly and turned around so her lower back was leaning against the table, crossing her arms across her chest. "That's not all," she said in a low voice. "We went to a colony by the name of Freedom's Progress a few days back. Tali was there, but she wouldn't come with me. We got in a few fights, and I got grazed in the hand at one point. After the fight, I looked at my hand to judge how much medi-gel to administer, and the skin was regenerating."

"Regenerating? What do you mean?"

"I don't know exactly, Garrus, but the wound was healing itself. I still felt the pain from receiving the wound, but within minutes, I was watching it heal. I confronted The Illusive Man-"

"The who?"

"Mysterious head of Cerberus. I confronted Miranda first, since she was the head of the project to bring me back, but she had no idea. So when we got back to the ship, I spoke to The Illusive Man, and all he told me was that I had to recruit the salarian scientist Mordin Solus and he'd explain everything to me."

"So? What did Solus say?"

"I haven't been to see him yet."

"Why did you get me first?"

Shepard smirked. "I thought my timing was pretty spot on."

"Don't think I'm ungrateful," Garrus said, holding his hands up defensively. "I'm very, very glad you came to get me. Not that I wouldn't have been able to hold my own for a little while longer. But weren't you curious about what's going on?"

"Of course I am. But when I analyzed the situation, even before I knew who you were, I knew you were in more immediate danger and I knew I'd rather have you alive than have information right away. So here we are." She smiled warmly at him.

"Here we are." His voice became soft and his subharmonics purred. He could read her vitals on his visor, and saw her breathing and heart rate increase. He wasn't as knowledgeable of human physical reactions, but he took it as a good one.

"So what happened to you in the last two years, Garrus?"

"I'll tell you... but not now. Doctor Chakwas is going to force me to rest if I don't go on my own. I'm going to check out the ship, see if I can find a quiet place to keep my things.

"When are we going to get Mordin?"

"Considering the fact that you just took a rocket to the face, and Mordin is currently in a quarantine zone for a highly infectious virus that affects turians but not humans, I think you should sit this one out. Get some rest, I'll need you for the other two dossiers."

"I look forward to working with you again, Shepard. Well, as much as you can look forward to a suicide mission."

Shepard leaned forward and laughed lightly. "Me too, Garrus. Me too."

He made his way back to the medbay, a little extra spring in his step. For a man who had wanted to be dead a few hours earlier, he felt very alive.