.

Loyalty and Limerence

Part 2

Chapter 1

Omega, 1.5 Years Later

He was going to die. Garrus could feel it, deep in his bones, it was just a matter of time. He'd known the moment he'd stepped foot into the apartment and seen the bloody faces of his dead team staring back up at him. But it wasn't really until the last twelve hours or so that it had really begun to sink in.

Garrus' whole body hurt, it felt like his joints were made of lead, and exhaustion made it hard to think and function. He poked his head up over the window sill, confirming the lack of activity on the bridge that his motion detectors were reporting. With a grunt, he sat back down and reached for a new heat sink. Replacing the old one in his trusty sniper rifle, he sighed and checked the time.

It'd been long enough, he figured, that he could probably pop another stim, too. Or close enough, at least. Honestly, it didn't really matter anymore. He reached into a nearby pack, searching until his hand wrapped around the last small syringe. Vaguely checking the label, he felt around on his leg for the edge of his armor's plating until he found the soft joint of his undersuit and jammed the needle in.

Pressing down hard on the button, Garrus felt the effects moments later as a rush of nausea enveloped him. He closed his eyes for a moment as his tired heart thudded painfully in his chest, a wave of dizziness making his head spin. After a moment, the world seemed to right itself, and just in time as his motion detector pinged at him. Taking a deep breath, a little bit more life seeming to flow through him, he grabbed his rifle and twisted to take aim as quickly as he could.

The whole situation would have been laughable if he'd had enough extra energy to laugh. He should have known it would all come to this, nothing ever worked out for him. This was only the most recent and slightly most lethal example of that. He didn't deserve any better, not after what he'd let happen to his team. He deserved to suffer.

Garrus was pretty sure it'd been three or four days since he'd gotten any sleep. He wasn't sure anymore, honestly. It was all bleeding together into one hellish nightmare, and in the end, he was just going to die. But he was going to go down guns blazing, one way or another. One last stand.

He struggled not to let his mind drift back to the loosely covered bodies in neat lines around the room. He kept attempting to focus his eyes on anything else around him, but they kept coming back to the prone shapes time and time again.

Erash, Monnteague, Mierin, Grundan Krul, Melenis, Ripper, Sensat, Vortash, Butler, Weaver.

Sidonis.

Fuck, if Shepard had been in command, this never would have happened. He never would have fallen for such a stupid trap, he never would have found himself in this position. The old, dull ache resurfaced, but only long enough for it to hurt a moment before Garrus ruthlessly thrust it back into the box he'd long since crammed it into. Shepard was dead. Nothing would change that, and dwelling on his old mentor now was not going to help.

The motion detector pinged again, and Garrus quickly turned and aimed, taking out another few mercs attempting to cross the bridge. They were coming in small waves, each group looking more rag tag than the last. From the lack of order, coordination, and markings, it seemed as though they were sending anyone with a gun at him at this point. It suited him just fine. They all bled the same with a bullet through the head.

Once the last body fell, he took a moment to look at their defenses through his scope again. He could see their barricades, as sturdy looking as ever. People stood guard there, guns ready, and others darted back and forth as they seemingly made plans. They were too far away to get a clear shot, but every now and then he took a few pot shots… At the very least, it reminded them he was still there, still deadly.

A flash of red.

His heart still tightened at the sight, even years later. It wasn't her, it never was. He was used to flashes of red in the crowd that made his heart beat a little faster, made his breath catch in his throat. They used to make him do double takes, but it was never her and he'd long since stopped hoping.

The first few months it had been awful, the pain had been so sharp it had been nearly physical. She'd been like a ghost, haunting him through the alleyways of Omega, but disappearing the moment he tried to get a closer look. About a year ago, there had been an instance when he'd been so sure he'd seen her that he'd gone running after.

He'd never caught up with whoever it had been, but he knew better than to hope it'd been her. He knew perfectly well that the Alliance didn't run operations anywhere near Omega. It hadn't been her, couldn't have been her. It was just the same old ghost of his past regrets.

He had been so full of regrets, of What Ifs and If Onlys, it had eaten away at him for months. He'd even had one ill-fated alcohol induced attempt at picking up a human woman at a bar in hopes that it would help get whatever this obsession was out of his system. But before they'd even gotten back to his place, he'd lost his nerve and apologized before seeing her home safely and retreating in mortification.

He wasn't interested in humans. Only Jane Shepard, damn her. Only ever her.

Time helped dull the pain, somewhat. But even more than that, keeping busy helped. So for months upon months, he'd thrown himself into his work, cleansing the filth from the streets of Omega, one shot at a time.

Another wave of cannon fodder threw themselves across the bridge only to fall to his rifle, again and again. As the last one fell, Garrus realized he was being given another chance to catch his breath, and with a grunt he twisted and slid down to sit upon the floor again. He tried to force his mind off the topic of Jane, but instead, his eyes refocused to the display of his visor where a small set of numbers still stared back at him, unchanged after years.

-Kill Count-

[GV: 210]

[JS: 215]

Of course the numbers never changed. Jane was Spirits-knew-where, but certainly not on Omega. He'd tried to delete it so many times, but whenever his finger hovered over the button, he just couldn't make himself do it. So they remained, taunting him with memories of the past.

Leaning against the wall, he sighed before closing his eyes. Just for a few moments, just to rest his eyes…

The silence was broken by the sound of footsteps coming to a stop just before him, causing his eyes to snap open in panic. His breath hitched in his throat and his hand fell from where he reached for his rifle as his sluggish brain registered the angel standing before him.

For that's what she must have been. A pale, soft skinned hand reached up to drag a five fingered hand through shoulder length glossy, red hair. Bright green eyes hooded in challenge peered down at him, an eyebrow quirked up as she grinded her trademark open, disarming smile.

He struggled to speak, his mouth dry as his eyes drank her in like a parched man falling upon an oasis in the desert. After a moment, he pulled his helmet from his head in order to truly see her. Although hazy, she looked exactly how he remembered her, every single detail, and he couldn't stop the reverence in his voice.

"Jane…" Her face softened as she gazed down at where he sat against the wall, her smile becoming almost wistful.

"Garrus." He stiffened at the sound of her voice. It had an odd, far away and echoing quality to it that made his skin crawl. Narrowing his eyes, he finally noticed her faded, unfocused edges. His heart sank, his eyes burning as disappointment threatened to drown him.

"You're not real. You're just another hallucination." She wasn't the first he'd seen the past day or so, but she was by far the worst, the most heart breaking. Jane didn't say anything, but her eyebrows furrowed and the corner of her lips quirked up as if in sad acceptance of the accusation. As he continued to gaze up at her, he felt his chest start to loosen as a melancholic smile made its way onto his own face. "But I'm still happy I got to see you. One last time… Before I die. Even if you're not real."

At that, she knelt down before him, and for a brief, glorious second he could swear he felt the brush of her fingertips as she brought them up to ghost along the side of his face. With a broken, haggard sigh, his eyes flickered shut as he leaned his mandible into her palm.

"I'm so sorry I didn't tell you when I had the chance." Sighing again, he looked up into her face and tried to smile. "I love you."

The words felt so good to finally utter aloud, even if he'd never allowed himself to admit their truth before then. The realization felt like opening his eyes to a beautiful dawn on a spring morning, a breath of fresh air to his sore and battered lungs, a balm to his bruised and broken body.

"I know." Suddenly, she was leaning forward to gently press her forehead against his and he could swear he could feel her breath against his face. His eyes fluttered shut as his heart seemed to jump out of his chest, his blood burning in his veins. "Don't give up, not quite yet."

Garrus' eyes snapped open, and he was alone. Jane was gone as though she'd never been there, which he supposed she hadn't at that. The room was silent, but his heart continued to hammer in his chest, a reminder that he was still alive. But it had an all too familiar ache.

"Fuck." Garrus jammed his helmet back onto his head, willing his body to stop thrumming with the imagined presence of the human woman that had so uttered ensnared him. He wasn't sure if she'd been a hallucination or some sort of fever dream, but she was gone. And he was alone.

Pushing her out of his mind, he tried to focus on something else, but before he could stop himself, he was falling down the list of all the regrets that chased him through the dark hallways of his own mind.

He'd lost so many people who were important to him in his life, not all his were his fault. Shepard had been ripped away by the attack, completely out of his control. Jane had blamed Garrus for something that hadn't been his fault, but he'd lost her all the same. But his father… That had been his fault.

His father had warned him that his rash actions were going to get him in trouble, and Garrus couldn't help but chuckle dryly as he admitted how right his father had been. He should have listened to him, especially after everything he'd experienced while working with Shepard. They had both tried to show him the correct way to do things, and yet he still ended up trying to take matters into his own hands, and look where it'd gotten him. He just never learned.

The motion detector pinged again, and with a sigh, he dragged aching limbs up and grabbed his rifle, taking aim. His father hadn't deserved the way he'd treated him. He'd only been trying to help him be his best self.. Jane's words from all those years ago seemed to echo back to him.

I'm sorry you don't get along with your father. Family's important, I hope you're able to reconcile with him someday.

WIth weary resignation, he acknowledged that he knew what he had to do before it was too late. One last loose end to tie up. Between shots, he pulled up his omni-tool and brought up his father's contact information.

"Hello?" His father's voice sounded the same as usual. Short, clipped, to the point.

"Dad." Crack, another merc down in a pool of his own blood.

"Garrus? Is that you? What's that noise?"

"Just a little… target practice."Garrus rolled his shoulder, stifling a groan at the pain.

"Then call me back later." His father's voice sounded irritated, and Garrus sighed as he took aim and pulled the trigger again.

"I don't think I'll be able to do that." Garrus' voice threatened to crack, the finality of his situation looming over his head. He took a deep breath. "Too many targets."

"... I see." Garrus felt a lump in the back of his throat and tried to force back the emotion threatening to overrun him.

"I just wanted to hear your voice. Wanted to know how retirement was treating you. You good?"

"I'm fine." His father snapped, a new edge to his voice that said he'd seen through Garrus' prevarication. "Forget about that."

"Listen, I don't have a lot of time. I wanted to say…" Garrus took another deep breath and sighed before pulling the trigger again and continuing, "You were right about things. A lot more than I gave you credit for." Another shot, another merc down. Another flash of red, was that blood or…? "And I'm sorry we butted heads so much."

"I said forget about that. These targets you're practicing on – They're moving fast?" Another wave of mercs charged onto the bridge, but something was different, particularly a small group in the back-

Garrus' heart thudded hard and painfully in his chest as he saw the flash of a red ponytail ducking behind cover.

"So far… not fast enough." He peered through his scope, his heartbeat thumping in his ears, momentarily forgetting the rest of the mercs charging forward. A face peered out from behind cover, but then an omni-tool activated, and all of a sudden… they vanished. "But they're learning." Garrus' brow plates furrowed in confusion as he looked around for the missing merc.

"How are your thermal clips?"

"You know how it is. Could always use a couple more."

"Work with what you've got, then. Don't stop pulling that trigger till it clicks, son." Garrus felt his eyes widen as the merc suddenly reappeared in a fizzle of light. She was crouched behind another merc and in a flash she pulled a combat knife from her belt. Reaching up, she grabbed the man and with a fluid motion, she slit his throat. As the man fell, gurgling and choking on his own blood, Garrus finally got a good look at her face and it was like his own blood stopped moving.

Jane.

She was there, right before him.

And then her omni-tool activated. And she was gone again. Another hallucination…?

"No matter how bad things are falling apart around you, as long as you have at least one bullet left, you can still get the job done. Understand?" His father's voice seemed to echo at him from down a tunnel. Jane fizzled back into view behind yet another merc, and with another flash of her knife, he fell dead at her feet. As the men around her seemed to realize she was taking them down, she pulled her pistol. Was it truly her? He focused his scope down at her, and just below the flash of her green, focused eyes was the familiar emblem. N7.

Garrus didn't trust his eyes, not after everything. He had to know if she was real. Quickly he loaded up a concussive round, took aim, and shot her in the shoulder. She recoiled at the hit, her kinetic barrier taking the brunt of the damage, and she glared up at him in annoyance before activating her omni-tool and vanishing again. Garrus couldn't help the grin that spread over his face. He glanced at the display in his visor, but he already knew what he'd see.

-Kill Count-

[GV: 216]

[JS: 219]

She was in range. The numbers had gone up. It wasn't his imagination. She wasn't his imagination!

"You finish up what you have to do there, and then you come on home to Palaven. We have a lot to sort out."

"Yeah, we do. Thanks, Dad. For everything." Jane reappeared with her pistol pointed to the back of another merc's head, and as the man fell, she darted forward and disappeared into the apartment's front entrance. "I have to go now. Don't worry about me… I'll make it home when I can. The odds just got a lot better."

Illium, 1.5 Years Ago

Jane wasn't sure what she'd been expecting when she stepped off the shuttle, but even though she'd seen pictures, Illium somehow managed to surprise her with its beauty. It had a somewhat dark reputation due to its relaxed stances on labor practices, safety, and trafficking. Hell, nearly anything was legal here except murder. Which was why she was so surprised at its sleek beauty. The sun was just setting over the horizon, catching the many skyscrapers and spires at an angle that caused them to shimmer like shards of glass.

She sneered at the incongruity of it all. Beautiful shell, dirty underbelly. She hiked her bag back up onto her shoulder and made for the mass transit. She had an address and a time, nothing else.

When she arrived at the deceptively plain building, she was buzzed in by none other than Tela Vasir. Jane stepped through the door and glanced around, putting her bag and case down. The apartment was larger than she'd expected to find in a city, but comfortable and well furnished.

"Shepard, good to see you. I assume your trip was uneventful." Jane was about to answer when Ashley's voice echoed back at her.

Don't fucking walk away from me, Shepard!

Jane grimaced and glanced away.

"You could say that."

"Good. Let's go over the plan and then you can get yourself set up with a room somewhere in the neighborhood. We'll be staying here in Nos Astra for a few weeks at least, depending on how it goes." Vasir moved to the window, crossing her arms as she looked out. "You'll tag along with me for a few missions, then you'll go on a few alone and I'll observe. If I decide you'll do, I'll send my report along to the council and your 'probation' period will be complete."

"Fine. But why Illium?" Jane asked, stepping into the room but deciding against making herself comfortable.

"Easy. It's an area I frequent, know it like the back of my hand. Easy to move around undisturbed, few questions asked. Most importantly, Cerberus only has a small presence here, and I have all of their known operatives here tagged for observation. The chances that they'll see us together are slim, so it shouldn't blow your cover for your mission."

"Makes sense. So what first?"

"We went over all the boring stuff before we left the Citadel, your Spectre access codes, channels for communication, other boring administrative bullshit. Tomorrow I'm going to start putting you through your paces, see what you're capable of. I've seen your records, but words can only tell me so much. I want to see you in action." Vasir turned to look at her, her eyes sharp and assessing. Jane held her gaze with firm, unapologetic self assurance.

"Sounds good. What's the mission?" The other woman watched her for a heartbeat longer before her lips quirked in an amused smile that made Jane's jaw clench. Vasir walked over to a nearby table and picked up a data pad, tossing it to her. Jane snatched it out of the air and looked down to see the mission details laid out before her.

"Nothing difficult, this one should be a walk in the park. A warm up, so to say. Take a look at that tonight, be ready first thing in the morning. Send me the address of wherever you end up booking a room and I'll pick you up." She turned, and headed toward the kitchen, a clear dismissal, but stopped suddenly to turn back toward Jane. "Oh, and word to the wise: Don't sign anything. Illium can be a bit… deceptive." With that, she disappeared into the next room, leaving Jane with a data pad and a million questions.

An hour or two later found her hunkered down in her newly rented room, mulling over the mission details. The room was mediocre at best, yet Jane considered it a stroke of luck. Funds hadn't been the issue, she was quite flush with funding at the moment, though rooms were certainly at a premium here. The issue had been availability. Every place she'd visited seemed to be completely booked up, and it was some sort of miracle she'd found anything at all.

As she looked over the details for the mission, her heart dropped. A warm up, indeed. Jane would have rolled her eyes if she hadn't been quite so nervous. The place Vasir was asking her to break into seemed nigh impenetrable. She was almost convinced that this had to be some sort of initiation prank, a hazing as it were, except that that didn't seem like something a professional like Vasir would be into. Between the cameras, guards, and security system, she had no idea how she was supposed to make it into the building. She'd have to be a ghost to slip past them all unseen-

She froze, her mind racing, her hand with the data pad slowly lowering to the table before her. If she were invisible… then it wouldn't be an issue at all. There were a lot of things she would be able to manage if that were a tool in her arsenal, not to mention her mission with Cerberus… Tactical cloaks were banned in Council Space, typically only being used for mischief of one kind or another. But… That didn't apply to her anymore. As a Spectre, if she wanted to utilize a tactical cloak, she had the right to do so.

The issue would be acquiring the software and omni-tool modification, and yet here she was. On Illium. If she couldn't find those here, she didn't know where she could. Jane felt a fox-like grin spread across her face as she grabbed her jacket and made for the door. It was time for a little last minute shopping. Nothing like a little retail therapy, afterall.