As the Normandy entered Earth's atmosphere, all those remaining on board had settled into a solemn state. They had recently dropped their remaining human and alien crew off at the Citadel. Tali, Grunt, Jack, Zaeed, Samara, Kasumi, Miranda, Jacob, Thane and Mordin had said their goodbyes and dispersed to go their separate ways. Legion had disappeared long before they had landed, with only a beep at Joker's console to notify him the airlock door was opened. The geth mobile platform had jumped ship, perhaps wanting to avoid any unnecessary confrontations or explanations as to why a geth was onboard an Alliance ship. No one could blame it, especially with what was to come.
The Normandy had been ordered back to dry dock by the Alliance following the events of the destruction of the Ba'hak System and the Alpha Relay, and much to Shepard's dismay, Garrus had insisted on staying by her side until she was taken into protective custody.
As the ship docked into the Systems Alliance port in Vancouver, Garrus combed every deck methodically, expecting to find Shepard awaiting orders from her superiors. After a panic stricken ten minutes of searching high and low for his Commander, did he finally think to look in on her private quarters, and sure enough, he found her there, facing the oversized bed, her back turned towards the door as she mumbled to herself.
Garrus reached out and touched her tenderly on her arm. She jumped and spun around with all the reflexes of a trained soldier, her pistol pointed directly into his chest.
"Spirits, Shepard," he breathed.
"Damnit, Garrus," she sighed in relief, but unsmiling. She lowered her Phalanx and rubbed her eyes. Garrus noticed she was wearing her Alliance dress blues, neatly pressed and starched, with not a single wrinkle in sight. Her hair had grown out a bit which she had pulled back into a small, slick ponytail. Without saying another word, Shepard turned back to face the bed.
The bed itself was made up, it sheets and pillows in the same fashion as Shepard's clothing, neat and tidy. Her suitcase lay open at the foot of it, along with her foot locker. Her personal affects and off-duty clothing were tossed haphazardly into it, as weapons, mods and heat sinks littered the inside of the foot locker. She continued to mutter under her breath, rifling through her things as if she was looking for something.
"Eight… Nine… Ten…," she whispered. "I've counted these things at least half a dozen times, and while I'm fairly certain I have everything… it still feels as if I'm forgetting... something."
Casting a glance around the room and over the luggage, Garrus knew she didn't overlook anything. He knew she was stalling.
"You don't have to do this…," he said in a low and desperate voice. "You… We could hijack the Normandy and… and go anywhere where they couldn't find you… us…"
She let out a huff, the corner of her mouth turning slightly upward into a weak smirk as she allowed herself to briefly imagine what that sort of rogue and intentional desertion would be like… what it could lead to… In the end, her shoulders slumped, and she shook her head wearily.
"You know I can't do that," she said, placing her pistol into the locker, her shaking hands giving away her anxiety.
"The Alliance thinks I've already deserted them for Cerberus, and this whole mess with the Alpha Relay," she continued angrily. "Not to mention the Reapers…"
Garrus scratched his marred mandible thoughtfully. He had finally been allowed to remove the bandage, but the insatiable itch told him it was still healing.
"I could come with you…," he said timidly. "To… to back up your statement… or… to… to just be a friend… or something else…"
Shepard turned towards him and smiled sadly, "No… you need to go back to Palaven… Prepare your people for the Reapers… Convince them that they are coming…"
"And what of us?" Garrus blurted out, almost faster than he could stop himself. Shepard reached up and gently traced the scarring from his mandible down his neckline, her brow furrowed and her face unreadable.
"I… I don't want to assign a title to anything just yet…" she whispered miserably. "Nothing is certain… and I don't want us dwelling on the 'could have beens' or 'what might have happened'… especially if this all goes sideways… and we never see each other again…"
Garrus dropped his head dejectedly… Not the answer he had been hoping for. What had started out simply as a way to alleviate stress, had turned into something far beyond anything he could explain. Yes, Shepard was a human… and his superior… but she was so much more than that now. She was a mentor… his confidant… his friend. She believed in him when no one else would… even when he had lost faith in himself.
And yet… she had just rejected him… He didn't think she meant to hurt him… The mission ALWAYS took precedent over anything else… even personal relationships. That's how she operated… Hell, it's how he usually worked as well… especially after his failed vigilante career on Omega. But as it stood, it still felt as if his heart had been ripped from his chest, stepped on, and handed back to him in a dozen different pieces, on a silver platter.
All Garrus could do now was react. He grabbed Shepard around the waist, perhaps a bit too eagerly, and hoisted her up into his arms. By the expression on her face, his intense reaction had startled her, but he kissed her the best he knew how… long… hard… and as slow as possible… not wanting it to stop and not wanting to let her go. She responded after the initial shock by throwing her arms around his neck and wrapping her legs around his slender waist, returning his kiss with just as much heat and passion.
After several minutes of not being able to keep their hands from perusing each other's bodies, they both stopped abruptly, panting deeply, sweating profusely, and lusting for more.
Shepard blinked up at him, her sharp, blue eyes full of the same hurt he felt deep within his chest. At that very moment, Garrus knew she didn't want to turn herself in… As she had said… She was doing this because she had to… because the Alliance demanded it.
And so, with a heavy heart, and a weary sigh, Garrus set Shepard down gently, kissed her one last time and touched his forehead to hers, allowing it to linger just a few moments longer. All too soon, however, their instant together was cut short by the Normandy shuddering around them as the locks of the docking bay grabbed hold, securing the ship in its place.
Shepard disengaged herself from Garrus and stood up tall, with her head held high, adjusting her dress blues and double checking her ponytail.
"How do I look?" she asked with a weak smile.
"Like Commander Shepard…," he said defiantly, and hastily added, "Who isn't looking forward to playing politics."
She allowed herself a brief chuckle, "You always know how to cheer me up."
"Here… let me walk you to the airlock," he offered, picking up her footlocker and heading towards the door. She grabbed her suitcase and followed him to the elevator.
"Always the gentleman too," she said.
Garrus rode the elevator with her to the CIC deck and trailed behind her the entire way to the exit. Joker was spun around in his leather pilot's chair, craning his neck catch a glimpse of what was about to unfold, as EDI's holo blinked next to him.
Just as the airlock opened with a hiss, Garrus bent close to Shepard's ear and whispered, just loud enough for her to hear, "I'll be waiting for you."
She let out a barely audible gasp before striding down the gangplank, standing tall with no expression upon her face.
Garrus watched as she approached Admiral Hackett, Councilor Anderson, Udina and a squadron of armed guards. This was much more serious than he realized. They weren't taking her into protective custody…
"They're actually arresting her?!" Garrus growled angrily to Joker who had hobbled over to him for a better view. "After all she's done for them?! Is this standard Alliance protocol?"
Joker shook his head, confusion spreading across his face, reflecting Garrus' own bewildered thoughts. "I don't know what this is…," the flight lieutenant said, perplexed.
Garrus took two vexed steps towards them before the unit raised their guns and pointed them up at him, ready to open fire if need be. Anderson spotted him and signaled for the guards to lower their weapons as he raced to meet the turian.
"What the hell is this?" Garrus spat, gesturing at the scene unfolding below. He watched as an arresting officer approached Shepard with a set of handcuffs. A few words were said between the Commander, Hackett and the officer, before Shepard put her hands behind her back, and she was handcuffed. She threw one last glance over her shoulder, meeting Garrus' eye before being led away like a common criminal. A shadow of fear passed over her otherwise unflinching visage that shook him to his core.
Anderson reached the airlock, winded, and said almost unwillingly, "She's being charged with aiding and abetting a known terrorist organization, treason against the Alliance and the Council, faking her own death, attempted genocide against the batarian race, the destruction of a prothean artifact, and the annihilation of an entire star system."
Garrus flicked his mandibles in disbelief. Joker's mouth hung wide open incredulously. Anderson nodded his agreement.
"It doesn't look good," was all the Councilor could respond with.
Garrus was relieved when Liara finally called him into her office. The last half hour spent with his father outside the hall had felt as if things had never changed between them, ripe with silent disagreement and condemnation. He suddenly felt the urgent need to put half a galaxy between them once more. That need only grew deeper and more unrelenting as Javik, Wrex and Hannah Shepard appeared at the bottom of the stairs, shifting awkwardly and not making eye contact. The tension could be felt by even a pyjack.
Leaving Tychus behind in the hall, Garrus entered Liara's rotund office with his three companions in tow. Liara stood behind her desk with her arms tightly crossed, as Miranda sat off to the side, a look of discontent upon her unblemished face as she shook her foot apprehensively. Feron bowed silently, excusing himself and left quickly as Garrus walked in.
The feed on Liara's oversized monitor caught Garrus' eye. What he saw caused him to inadvertently take a few startled steps backwards.
On one half of the screen was devoted to Kasumi Goto, the master thief. She waved to Garrus, though did not even attempt to crack a smile.
On the other half of the screen, however, was something else entirely, of a security vid. It depicted the same Cerberus lab they had seen back on Aurora Station. There were half a dozen doctors working at a number of stations, all were wearing white lab coats, their heads turned away from the camera. At the bottom right hand corner, a heart rate monitor was superimposed onto the feed. After about two minutes of nothing more happening on screen and silence throughout Liara's office, a squad of armed Centurions made their way into view with two assault troopers trailing, dragging something… rather someone between them.
Head lolling between shoulders and without much resistance, they hoisted this person, whom Garrus instantly recognized as Shepard, onto the same metal slab, tightened and buckled the necessary shackles, secured her head back and hooked up tiny rubber pads to her exposed chest. The system recognized a heartbeat and began to spike, giving off readings.
Cyrus Shepard came into view as well, checked the restraints and snatched what appeared to be a cattle prod from one of the Centurions. He pressed it into Shepard's abdomen and flicked the switch. The prod sent a surge of electricity riveting through her body as her eyes rolled open and she opened her mouth in a silent scream.
"Wake up!" he shouted, prodding her for a second time.
Shepard coughed out blood, before she began to sob in a way Garrus had never witnessed before. It was a desperate cry for her torture to end once and for all.
Garrus had seen enough to get a sense of what was happening, though he had to ask anyways. Turning to Liara, he asked in a slow and deliberate tone, dreading the answer, "Is this feed-"
"Live?" she finished his thought for him, and nodded, though quite reluctantly. "Yeah… It's live…"
His stomach felt is if it had flopped over in the pit of his gut, while his heart leapt into his throat.
Updated 6/7/14