Epilogue
Leaving wasn't easy—both literally and figuratively. Literally because scaling a building down was a hell of a lot harder than going up, at least if you didn't have the capacity to fly. Figuratively because…well who knew when Shepard would get free? It wasn't like there were any guarantees from the Reapers. Just because they were apparently made out of liquified colonists didn't mean they understand the concept of longing; there was still a very good chance either Shepard or Garrus could end up dead.
Tali was ringing the bell in the Migrant Fleet. They honestly couldn't have picked a better Admiral to protect their people. And Anderson and Hackett (who Garrus had, by this point, forgiven) were trying to do the same with the Alliance. If Mordin could get through to the salarians, and Liara could get through to the asari, then the major military powers of Citadel Space were accounted for…except for the most major military power of them all, the turians. And Garrus could take this as either a compliment or an insult, but, Shepard hadn't bothered to recruit any other turians. It was going to fall to him.
And, Spirits, it was hard not to be cynical about it all.
But…he didn't have to be, did he? Shepard had said she'd seen changes. Garrus hadn't but he was quickly realizing just how poor an observer he was, at least as far as his own internal world was concerned. And if old habits could be broken then…
…then there was a place he could start, if nothing else. Start and see what happened.
Garrus went home. Solana and Dad were busy making dinner. All attention ended up on him as he walked through the door.
"How was the trip?" his dad said. "Hopefully security didn't give you as much trouble coming in this time."
"It went as smoothly as possible," Garrus said. "Trip and security both." He looked at his sister. "If I go to my room right now, will my stuff still be there? Or am I gonna have to badger you for fifty percent of the profits?"
Solana gave Garrus a puzzled look but, eventually, any skepticism around her brother evaporated. "Nobody'd want to buy your junk, Garrus," she said, with just a hint of a smile.
"Mmm, so you think it's priceless too. Glad to hear other people appreciating my childhood."
Solana flicked a piece of fruit at Garrus, still smiling that faint smile. "Don't make a mess," she said.
Garrus looked at his father. He seemed relaxed, which was good…because Garrus needed to ask him something. Something he never thought he'd ask his father.
Damn, and apparently his father could read minds, because there went that look of relaxation. Best not drag this thing out, then.
"Dad," Garrus said. "This can…this can wait until after dinner but, I need a favour from you."
"Oh?" Castis said. "What kind of favour?"
"Advice," Garrus said. "About the…problem, I didn't get around to mentioning earlier."
His father assumed a military posture. Solana put down the plate of fruit that she had been cleaning.
"I um…I can go somewhere else," she said.
Garrus shook his head. "No, you…I think you both should hear this. It'll be all our problems soon enough."
Solana gave Castis a glance. Castis nodded, then looked at Garrus. "I have a feeling I know what you're about to say. But…go ahead, Garrus. Tell us what you think we need to hear."
Garrus paused, let thoughts and memories drudge their way up from his brain. He didn't have to be cynical, and that meant he could trust his father. Shepard showed him that much, and the best way to show Shepard she was appreciated? It'd be to act like he believed her. Because with her green eyes and her smile and, yes, even her three pairs of socks…she made it hard not to believe her.
Spirits…hopefully that could rub off on him, too.
"You probably do know what I'm about to say," Garrus said. "But I'll lay it all out for you, as much as I know. I'm going to tell you about the Reapers, and how a full-scale invasion is just around the corner."
And what did Castis do? Castis walked to the stove, turned the heat off, then went to the kitchen table. He motioned for Garrus to follow; Garrus did exactly that.
"Go on, then," Castis said. "Tell me what I need to hear."
FIN
Well, of all the stories I've ever written, that sure was one of them.
Thanks for reading, folks. Hope you enjoyed! Now back to the 300,000 word dystopia about Terminator Shepard, which is only slightly less depressing than the dystopia that we live in every daaaaay.