.

Do what you, what you want
Your world's closing in on you now (It isn't over)
Stand and face the unknown (Got to remember who you really are)
Every heart in my hands like a pale reflection

Do what you, what you want
You don't have to lay your life down (Is it over?)
Do what you what you want
Till you find what you're looking for (Got to remember who you really are)

But every hour slipping by screams that I have failed you
Hello, hello remember me?
I'm everything you can't control
Somewhere beyond the pain there must be a way to believe

Evanescence - What You Want

Chapter 12 ~ Twice bitten by Death, once kissed by Truth

In rapid succession my taped fists hit the punching bag and I finished the move with a classical roundhouse kick. My injured leg protested at the exercise but held stable. Barely.

A faint sheen of perspiration coated my skin, soaking the black tank top and the sweat pants I wore. It would have been nice to assess the extent of all those Cerberus add-on's a little better, but no one was willing to pitch up against me. That is, Tali and Thane weren't exactly in the condition to risk injuries and the biotics were out as well – nobody seriously trained hand-to-hand combat anymore if they could tear an arm off with a flick of their wrists. Taylor had merely given my leg a pitiful look before stating that he would not rile the anger of the Doc just to entertain me and Massani had simply laughed. Because he only did mock fights if there were incentives involved. Yeah right. Not even in his wildest dreams. Besides, did I fancy another untimely end just because someone with a defect moral compass discovered latent fits of jealousy? I think not. Remained Grunt, but despite evidence to the contraire I wasn't harboring a secret death wish.

I resumed working on my forms. Jab, cross, jab, uppercut, side kick. Yup, this was me trying really hard to ignore the fact that instead of bashing sandbags I should be somewhere else entirely.

A few days ago the Illusive Man had sent a dossier for another "expert" (means kleptomaniac, with who-knows-what other twisted penchants). Yet after making the deal with Miss Goto, I had returned straight to Normandy, went into hiding in the hangar and was working out my ill-bred temper since then. If I never ever had to set another foot on the Citadel...

I snarled at the bag and kicked it into a wild swing.

Alright. So I was overreacting. And pointing that out only made it worse. Dammit. Tali had all the right in the world to sniff at me, saying without any words that I was making an utter fool of myself, but I swear to god, hell would freeze over twice before I was chasing after Garrus-fucking-Vakarian like some moonstruck idiot!

I punched the bag hard enough to hurt my knuckles.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. I knew the drill for fuck's sake! Ties grew and things got ugly. Every fucking time.

The elevator's doors opened behind me. I refused to interrupt my workout. Footsteps approached. I grimaced but kept striking at my targets. Maybe I could simply will the unbidden spectator into leaving?

Something heavy hit the floor with a loud thud. With a deep breath to contain my annoyance I came to a halt, brushing the damp strands that had escaped the ponytail off my face with my arm.

I turned around. Proud that my calm mask didn't betray any of the incoherent turmoil of relief, joy, and irritation that surged up inside me.

"So. You're back?" I asked plainly and perhaps a tad indifferent. Oh yeah, Commander Shepard, Master of the meaningful Conversation.

With another thud the turian's second bag hit the floor.

"One condition," Garrus said gravely. "We talk. Now."

.~'*'~.

The turian circled me, his expression a curious mix of anger and anticipation. Where fighters like Thane or Kaidan moved with the liquid grace of martial arts experts, Garrus just eradiated the plain precision and deadly efficiency of a hunter on the prowl. His gaze sharpened and suddenly all of the sniper's attention was focused solely on me.

"Why Shepard?" He asked collected, but the small twitches of his hands gave away his irritation. "It was my call to make, not yours."

Reason told me he was perfectly right. That I should apologize. Asking for his forgiveness. Fuck me. I was still too worked up for any admittance of guilt. The emotional turmoil inside me boiled. I looked at him and all the anger, hurt and fear I had kept bottled up these past weeks since waking in that cursed lab hit me anew.

Am I real…?

It was too much, too fast. I needed a release.

"Your call?" I sneered and turned with his movements to keep him in sight. "Is this just about soothing your irrational turian pride? About getting your way?"

"No, this is about you not being reasonable."

Goddammit. How could Garrus Vakarian sound so calm, when Commander Shepard was about to go nuts?

"I was unreasonable? What the… You shot me to make your frigging call!"

"Because you forced my hand!"

With it the turian suddenly charged, feigning right and directing a punch towards my left shoulder. He hadn't put much strength into it and it annoyed me even more. Testing waters or not, this was just insulting.

"It was the right thing to do," I needled on with heated stubbornness and blocked the lame-ass blow with my forearm.

Using the momentum against him, I slid along his arm, grabbed for his good shoulder and kicked at the hollow of his knee. His spurs were in the way and I missed the proper spot. The turian stumbled one step before regaining his balance.

He swirled around. "Ohh, of course. The bloody right thing," Garrus spat in scorn, his collected façade crumbling. Finally.

His fist came for my stomach. He had reach, but I was faster. I dodged backwards and he missed. Hah!

"Yeah. The bloody right thing. But you just won't see," I hissed and went on to attack his unguarded right side.

The last instant I switched to the left, bracing myself for the impact. Just because he was wearing shirt and pants instead of armor, he was still, well, turian. My switch had cost me speed, though. Garrus sidestepped and hit my back hard enough to send me to the floor. I felt it only remotely. The pain was someone else's pain.

I rolled over my shoulder and sprang back to my feet, hands raised defensively. Somewhere along the way I had lost my hair band. Loose strands were falling into my face and I tossed my head to get them out of my sight.

"Do you ever stop for a moment and listen to yourself?" He asked in a low menacing voice, cracking with disharmonies, while stalking towards me just like the angry predator he was.

That's right. Just keep it coming, sniper boy. So much easier to vent your own feelings if someone was raging back.

Instead of a reply I launched into a rapid series of punches. With each hit the pressure in me eased. Until –

"What if it would have been your friends?" He snarled. "What then? Look at me and tell me you wouldn't have killed him then!"

I stiffened.

Please. Please don't go there…

Too late.

The moon, breaking through the clouds.

Glazed dead eyes looking at me from raped bodies tossed aside like rags. My hand clenching on the blade's hilt. Hatred. Burning like hellfire; screaming until I heard nothing but its distorted cries for bloody vengeance. And then the rage consumes me. I smile. Eyes transfixed on the killers, I step out from the shadows and into the moon's pale light –

The punch to my rip cage made me gasp; the sharp pain forcing the memory away.

He probably bruised one of my rips and I was grateful for it. I blocked his second blow and countered with a hook that made him raise his arms in defense. My right fist flashed towards his chest. Somehow he anticipated the move and was quick enough to disengage and catch my hand with his. I had put all I had behind the blow and for a moment it seemed his arm would buckle at the impact. The slight widening of his eyes was the only indication of surprise he gave and all the warning I got. He pushed back. I held against, looking straight into his icy eyes.

"You… have so no idea…" I forced out under my breath, his sinewy but strong fingers trapping my hand in an iron grip.

For a few more heartbeats we were at a stalemate; too strained to talk, too engaged to look away. Just like me Garrus threw in everything he had; refused to yield even the tiniest step. It gave this sparring match the dangerous and thrilling edge I needed so much.

Real. This is very real…

Eventually, my muscles started to tremble.

Lazarus had increased my strength, yet it still wasn't enough. No matter. I simply had to wear the turian out first. My stamina had always been better than his. Now, with all the Cerberus implants working in me, it seemed endless.

Slowly, I reduced the pressure and allowed him to push closer. Garrus complied. My left fist slammed into his solar plexus. My knuckles felt as if I had punched a brick wall. Any human would have gone down out cold, but he just doubled over with a grunt. He released my hand. Then stared at me with an unfathomable expression. For a heartbeat I thought I saw his mandibles twitch into the ghost of a smile, but it was gone so quickly, I wasn't even sure if it had really been there.

And then the turian lunged for me.

I dove to the side, pivoted low and swept away his footing. With a curse, he crashed down sidelong. I jumped up with a smug grin – until his hand clasped around my right ankle. And pulled. I struggled for half a second, then my injured leg gave out and I dropped forward, barely cushioning my fall with my arms. Dammit! I had to get away now or he would have me at a disadvantage. On instinct, I twisted around and drove my elbow back. It connected with his chest, sending a jolt up my arm and into my shoulder. He exhaled with an 'oof' and went for my arms.

And so the lines between clean, civilized combat moves and common brawl blurred even further as each of us wrestled for the upper hand. We've been through this dance before, alright, back on the old Normandy.

It was as if they had been two completely different people.

The turian's face was the same mask of deep concentration, except that there was also this savage edge shimmering through. One that – despite my anger – made me think of heated bodies and naked skin and shivers of sweetest pleasure. Oh boy. My brain swam in a soup of adrenaline and endorphins, and when he had me on my back and suddenly leaned in, I thought for a second he would hold down my hands to run his tongue over the side my throat.

Are you fucking insane, Shepard?

I quickly tucked up my knees, bringing them between us and pushed him off me. He landed on his ass growling something about 'insane flexibility'.

Much faster than I would have ever expected, Garrus was back on his feet. He grabbed me in the middle of standing up and shoved me face-first against the wall, my right arm locked on my back in some rather painful C-Sec hold. I kicked against his shin with my heel but he just shifted his grip and trapped me with the complete length of his body. Caught! Caught like a bloody rookie on her first training day! And no, this wasn't the least intimate – because my shoulder threatened to pop out of the joint any second, you insensitive perverts!

"Stop hedging my questions, Shepard," Garrus suddenly said surprisingly calm, now that he had me cornered. The disharmonies returned to their normal timbre. "I just want to know why. Why did you try to stop me? What about him is so damn important to you that you betray me for it?"

His breath tingled on my neck. "Oh, for fuck's sake!" I growled strained.

Our physical fight had merely smoothened the edges of my inner struggle. Instead a dangerous ire churned. At him. At myself. At this blasted universe that had nothing but pain and misery to offer.

"That's what you're thinking? That this is about him? Newsflash: I couldn't care less about Sidonis! But this -" I snarled and twisted my neck. "This is eating you up! You're turning into some cold-blooded sonovabitch, driven by nothing but sheer hate and force me to FUCKING WATCH!"

That last I yelled. I didn't care. I just wanted to get rid of the sick feeling that kept uncoiling inside me. He eased his grip and I turned to face him. He wasn't withdrawing, though.

"So, yeah," I said, staring up at him defiantly from barely a foot's distance, clenching my fists at my side. "It's the mind and soul of Garrus Vakarian; soldier, sniper, vigilante and above all apex idiot, that's so goddamn important to me. And I don't want to lose him!"

It was as if a haze was lifting from him.

Surprise, anger, guilt. Somehow I could pinpoint each emotion that was jumbling through his mind, although there was only the tiniest change in his expression. Was it really less than a year ago – three in his case – since we met in front of the Council Chambers; he, exasperated by Pallin's unreasonableness, and me, amused that a turian was rebelling against the system?

Garrus exhaled. "I see," he said slowly.

I see? I frigging see? I waited for more but nothing came.

I rubbed my eyes. Now that the storm was finally out of my system, I just felt exhausted.

Suddenly he brushed with his thumb over my bare arm, where his shot's graze glared at us in its reddish glory. For all his thick, claw-tipped fingers, it was a surprisingly gentle touch. My heart skipped a beat upon the contact.

I shivered; and it had nothing to do with the chilly hangar air that was cooling my damp skin.

"Now there…" He began. Then he dropped his gaze. "I'm sorry, Shepard. I should never have-"

Without thinking I lifted my hand and touched his mouth with my fingers. "Me too…" I replied barely audible.

Garrus looked up once more and deep inside those endless blue glaciers something flickered.

Oh hell. I was in so deep I couldn't see the surface anymore.

"Just… let's not do this again, okay?" I added with a strained smile and snatched my hand away.

His skin had felt good. Perhaps a little rough. But warm. So warm…

"Promise," Garrus said and stared at his hand still holding on to my biceps. Then he released my arm, backed off a few steps and I wondered how it was possible to feel relieved and deprived at the same time. "Hey," he resumed, hesitant. "I… uhm… I need to go. I'm pretty sure someone messed up something with the Thanix, and… you know… I better check on her now, and not in the middle of a maneuver."

"Uh-huh. Calibrations." I observed and crooked my brow in mockery. This was at least something were familiar with.

"Yes. Right. Calibrations." Then he turned to pick up his bags, and added, "Oh, and your handwork-"

"What?" I asked and crossed my arms in front of me.

"It's sloppy."

"Sloppy?" I exclaimed, my eyes wide with indignation that was only halfway faked. "Alright, Vakarian, next time you're sooo going down."

~V~

Clunk.

Calibrations. Nice, Vakarian. Why don't you try a little harder to look like an idiot?

Clunk.

My forehead hit the wall inside the elevator again, this time hard enough to make the sound reverberate through the cubicle. It had seemed like such a good and solid plan – just engage her in a fight, create a comfortable diversion that allowed us both to vent our anger freely. Perhaps shout a bit, dish out a few punches, get a bruise or two in exchange – all in all the quickest and most effective way to settle those kinds of differences.

… and that you have an unhealthy tendency to end up in bed with the women you spar is of course merely a coincidence…

Perhaps it hadn't been such good idea after all.

Before I knew what was happening, the whole situation had morphed from measured and controlled into something that threatened to get out of my hands any moment (ah, as a matter of speaking, you see. In fact I had my hands quite full, which was likely the reason why things had started to keel over in the first place).

Clunk.

I needed a shower. A long cold shower to get my wits back together.

The elevator stopped and I almost ran into Tali.

"Keelah, Garrus," the quarian exclaimed. "You DO look terrible – I thought Joker was exaggerating again. You know he calls you 'Death warmed over'?"

"Why thank you, Tali, I missed you too." I replied wryly.

"Aww, that's not-" The mechanic stopped and gave me a long hug instead. Followed by her gloved fist hitting my chest. Quarians were indeed a touchy lot – in every sense. "There are people out here who worry about you. You promised to keep in touch."

I battled the impulse to drop my head. "I know. I'm sorry. Things had been complicated. And messy. Yeah, definitely messy."

"I heard it was a tight run on Omega… You're alright?"

"As alright as the like of me can get, I guess," I replied with a shrug.

From the corner of my vision I saw Lawson accompanying an unfamiliar dark clothed female figure towards the Port Observation deck. Something about the newcomer… As if she had heard my thoughts, she turned around. A black hood was shadowing most of her features but she was clearly human. She looked me over as if assessing my threat level then her painted lips curved into a satisfied smile and she nodded to us before stepping into the room.

"Who's that hooded human?" I asked and gestured Tali to walk with me to the Main Battery.

"Kasumi Goto," Tali replied amused. "The newest unlucky expert the Illusive Man's credit chit roped into this suicidal adventure. A master at stealth, encryption and very keen with recovering valuables."

"A thief? Splendid. Doesn't the Illusive Man realize that there are only so many people with questionable dispositions one ship can suffer?"

The quarian mechanic shrugged. "Well, she's the best, if rumors are to be believed. I don't know about you, but after facing Saren and the Sovereign I'd rather take all the help I can get."

"So… Already met the cheerful alien lurking around the Engineering?"

She feigned a shiver. "That woman creeps me out."

"Yeah. Wrex was right: you really don't know if the Normandy is a warship or a travelling freak show."

Tali chuckled. "At least Kasumi Goto appears to be friendly enough. For a thief. And Shepard does trust her." She resumed pointedly.

I snorted. "Shepard always likes the insane ones best."

"If that doesn't explain a lot," Tali said, her tone suspiciously smug. "I'm glad you overcame your differences. It's not the same if you're not with us…"

I had the uneasy feeling she was about to pry a little further what exactly had happened between the Commander and me. Better to steer her attention away from that topic. Very quickly, very far.

"You mean, you can't stand the thought that no one is shouting suicidal orders at me?" I asked lightly.

"Yah. That too."

The door of the Main Battery closed behind us. She typed a sequence into her omni-tool and activated a low radius jammer. She took an audible breath.

"Keelah. What are we doing here, Garrus? Cerberus? Do you have any idea how much grief they brought over the Flotilla?" She lowered her voice. "And a ship with a real AI? After all we went through fighting Geth and the Sovereign? After we pledged to oppose the Reapers with every breath and stich we have? That's contradictory in extreme."

"Well, it might be a challenge to make all of that look good on our resumes… Anyway, I think having EDI will actually give us an important edge. What's that human proverb? 'Fighting fire with fire'? Besides she is unlike any AI I've seen so far."

"She, huh?"

I shrugged. "You'll see. Will your people give you trouble for being here?"

Her hands fidgeted. "No. That is, not right away. Shepard's name and the fact that we did bring down Saren and his Geth gives me the benefit of doubt. For the time being. And provided Cerberus doesn't do anything to provoke the Admiralty again..." She was silent for a moment. The glowing eyes behind her violet mask blinked, then fastened on me. "Are we really doing the right thing?"

"Honestly? I don't know either. But I keep telling myself that. Besides, I think Shepard would be doing this no matter what. She… needs at least a few friendly guns at her sixes."

She exhaled with a low hiss. "I suppose you're right. I'd let enough friends down already."

"I heard you got boxed in by a geth platoon?"

"Yes, that…" The quarian tugged at her fingers, as she always did when flustered. "It was actually just a regular recon mission. Hop in, get the data, hop out. There had been no geth movements in this area for months." She sighed. "Six of my people dead and I still don't know if it was coincidence or if we tripped off some alarm because I was not careful enough…" Her shoulders slumped down. "I don't know how Shepard is doing it. All the responsibility. Facing choices that are ALL bad…"

"Balance," I suddenly heard myself say. "To be a good commander you need find the right balance between commitment and detachment. Too much commitment and the responsibility is crushing you eventually. Too much detachment and your team will fail if you need them the most. Besides, most choices in battle are tough. Being in command just means that yours are much more inclined to bite you in the ass afterwards."

She mulled it over for a moment then nodded, her posture growing a little straighter. "Yes. I never looked at it like that but I guess you're right. Now, if it only would make writing those letters a little easier…" She sighed again then patted my arm. "Thank you, Garrus. I've always known you are a good commander, too."

I grimaced at her observation. But what good was all the decoration and all the special training, if those who trusted that you wouldn't let them down, were rotting in their graves?

Shepard's voice through the intercom saved me from a reply.

"Everybody in the Comm Room in ten. We have news that a turian patrol encountered a Collector vessel."

.~'*'~.

"I have a bad feeling about this."

I heard Shepard murmur and turned away from Tali, who wrenched off the housing of a strange looking console, revealing a thick harness of wires underneath, to find the Commander staring down the dark, narrow aisle we had come through.

I couldn't agree more.

The Collector's ship was a disturbingly seamless blend between organic looking growth and advanced tech. The dim ambient illumination was only breached by the puddle of pinkish light that radiated from the spherical combat drone hovering over Tali's shoulder. It revealed even more unnerving details that would have better been left shrouded in shadows. Tubes and wires, melting into floors and ceilings as if grown there. Pearls of condensed moisture glistered in the pale light; giving the knobby, segmented walls even more resemblance to some gigantic carcinoma-covered visceral cavity. It even smelled like just that, like an infested wound, slowly rotting away the flesh around it. That we had stumbled over more than just a few human corpses on our way in was hardly improving the situation.

Impossible to believe that I had actually volunteered for this.

"It doesn't make sense," the human Spectre went on from her sentry post. "If the ship was abandoned, why are the life-sustaining systems working? Where are the hull breaches? The little damage we've seen can't be all the turian frigate managed to inflict." She craned her neck and looked at me. "Or have you noted anything?"

I shook my head. "No. Besides, if it truly was all, there would be some remains of the frigate instead. To be honest, I find it hard to believe that Cerberus' intel should be that inaccurate."

I heard a female snort from my left, where Jack was weaving a small biotic sphere through her fingers, trying just a little bit too hard to appear at ease.

Then she said, "I've just the explanation for you smart-asses: The bastard lied."

"How will you know?" Tali asked; her words crisp and accented, the upper half of her body hidden inside the open console. Wasn't as if those things came with a standard serial port.

The ex-convict shrugged, letting the sphere disappear with a small wave of her hand. "Easy. His lips were moving."

The quarian snickered and a loud hum suddenly emanated from the console. Startling all of us. Well, almost all.

"Bosh'tet." Tali cursed softly, then said louder, "Sorry. Should have warned you."

"You got a connection?" Shepard asked and walked over to us.

"Almos… Ah, yes!"

The console started to boot with a happy chirp and the quarian mechanic got up, punching a short sequence into her omni-tool.

"EDI? You're in?" Shepard asked.

"Yes."

"Okay. Check for anything that looks important; locations, pass codes, weaponry, prothean connections."

"Understood, Commander."

"Do you really think the Collectors are prothean husks?" I asked Shepard, eyeing the walls once more. This wasn't even remotely like Ilos.

She shrugged. "It's what the Professor believes, and to be honest, with what we have seen so far? The Reapers have human husks. Why not make some from other species as well? Especially from one they already subdued and wiped out."

I sighed. "And every time we think we've seen the worst, we got hit with something even more ugly. That karma you humans talk about really doesn't like us."

"Shepard. I found something." The AI suddenly said. She sounded troubled. "Based on the energy signature this is the same ship that attacked Horizon. The flight data also indicate that this vessel had passed through the Omega-4-Relay and traveled to the Amada System 26 months ago."

"Wait," Tali said, suddenly agitated. "The Omega-4-Relay? No ship has ever returned from there… Shepard, we have to find out how they do it!"

That was important indeed, yet my attention was drawn to another piece of information. The Amada System. That meant… Alchera. I exchanged a glance with the Commander, whose face had paled.

"Screw me…" she said softly. Then she spat, "It's them! They destroyed the Normandy! They killed my Crew!"

Jack and Tali were now watching her as well, but before anyone could comment, a loud hum went through the vessel.

"That… wasn't me…" Tali said uneasy.

"Uh… Commander, can we postpone this?" Jeff interrupted. "The ship's powering up. You need to get your asses out before the weapons are online!"

"Major groups of energy signatures are coming your way!" EDI added.

Of course they were. They always did.

~V~

"This way!"

I shouted over the ear-piercing shrieks of the Collector horde behind us and skittered down the narrow, sickly alive looking corridor EDI had opened up for us. Despite the advanced cyber-warfare suite, the AI struggled with gaining control of even the most rudimental functions. It was almost as if the ship had a will of its own – and it was all set on trapping the four of us in this Gigeresque nightmare.

Harbinger, I thought with a grimace and ran a little faster, ignoring the ache that pulsed in my left leg.

I swear to god, if we got out of this alive, I'd punch the Illusive Asshole in the teeth.

Ahead of me a small cluster of Collectors came into view. I raised my gun and toppled the first with a shot at its head. I popped out the empty heat sink. It had been my last. Jack's biotic wave tossed the rest of this group to the ground, and we quickly passed the stunned insects.

There was really no point in bunking down anywhere and get rid of the increasing number of pursuers. It would only delay us, up to the very point where EDI couldn't hamper with the ship's controls any longer and its cannons would tear the Normandy apart. Again.

Not going to happen. Not on my watch.

Luckily, the Reapers bred the average Collector drone barely smart enough to pull a trigger and even Harbinger's appearances had grown more and more infrequent. Having EDI's presence in there as well seemed to mess severely with the Reaper's possession routines. Still, without the chaos that derived from the multitude of disorganized groups stumbling about, our chances would have been disheartening slim.

Had the Collectors closed in further on us? Worried I glanced over my shoulder. Garrus held our pace with ease, but Jack and Tali were slowly but surely wearing out. As tough as they were in combat, they just weren't trained to run at full speed through an alien ship-maze.

"Sh...prd." EDI's voice cracked through the radio. "Shu-uttle ...s ...strai...head."

A sharp bend in the tunnel gave way to a long downward slope that was vaguely familiar. The exit had indeed to be near.

"Push! We're almost there!" Garrus shouted and raced past me.

My leg started to burn, each step sending a stabbing jolt up my body. I gritted my teeth.

"Keelah! They're closing in!" Tali screamed and I looked back. To where an image of dread unfolded.

I saw the quarian cast another drone that clashed into the first Collector coming around the corner and then she suddenly tripped, a red spot blooming on her shoulder. The Collector that had shot her dropped with a bullet in its head, and yet it didn't kept Tali from falling as well. Fear reached out and grabbed me with icy fingers.

I made my decision within the space of one heartbeat.

I spun around and raced back. My thigh's muscles morphed into a knotted mass of pain. The moment I stopped running I would be doomed.

"MOVE!" I yelled and yanked Tali back to her feet. I gave her a push and the quarian stumbled towards the shuttle.

I turned back. The least I could do was to buy them time.

I concentrated and pushed forward a Barrier. The raging insects crushed against a flashing wall of blue and silver. It almost sealed up the tunnel; bolts of lightning cracking along the edges. If I hadn't been busy with fighting for my life I would have been deeply impressed.

Needles of strain pricked inside my skull. The pricks flashed into pain. Despite my increased skill I just couldn't channel so much energy without getting burned to cinder. Slowly my strength unraveled. I thought we had minutes. Turned out we hadn't even seconds.

I blinked and was down on one knee. My outstretched arms trembled. Sweat dropped from my upper lip. Or perhaps it was blood. I couldn't spare the energy to tell the difference. My body, my mind, my very existence got compacted into one single command: hold the line.

I kept pushing against the enemy tide, clawing on with barely more than my finger nails.

I had to buy them time! I had to -

"Shepard!" Someone said and panic arose.

No! I told them to move!

"What do you think you're doing?" Garrus asked, standing next to me.

"GO!" I hissed and turned my head to glare at him, but he did not move. Just watch the tide of enemies that pushed against my barrier. Watching and assessing. "Dammit, Vakarian! It's a fucking order!"

For a short moment it appeared as if his turian nature would force him into obedience. Then his left mandible twitched, his jaw set. Stubborn idiot. "I won't let you die," he stated plainly and tightened the grip on his Vindicator.

No! My vision blurred. The needles in my head turned hot. Keeping my eyes open was too much to ask for. I sank down to the ground.

"Please..." I whispered, but it was impossible that he could hear me over all the noise.

Great Shepard. This is it.

Sadness washed over me. I didn't want it to end. Not now; and certainly not like that. And do you want to hear the worst? Deep down I knew there was the power in me to save us. It mocked me, so tantalizingly close to my reach and still a million miles away.

Help me, Ivy.

I pleaded softly to whatever was left of my soul. But there was no answer. I had tried to free her but she was still trapped too tightly in the prison my fear had built for her. And now I would die for it. No. We would die for it.

No more second chances. No more stalling. Game over. Just like that.

I barely felt how the energy slipped away. I hugged myself, too exhausted to think straight. The sadness was choking me. The barrier fell, the creatures screamed; and for the second time in my life I awaited death to come and drag me into the eternal darkness. Moments passed. Nothing happened. Why didn't they attack? I struggled against my lid's weight, prying my eyes open for a few seconds. The barrier was still in place. But... it was impossible.

"Fuck. Vakarian, get her up. Y'think I can hold on forever..."

Hands grabbed me, and all of a sudden I was on my feet once more. My cheek burned. Huh?

"Damn it, she's shutting down! I can't carry her and keep up the covering fire."

"My left pocket," Jack groaned strained. "Give her… of those."

I felt like moving and then Garrus said. "Here, Shepard, eat."

What? Why couldn't he let me... I was so tired… But I complied. Something crunched between my teeth, the sound oddly grazing inside my head. I kept eating. Didn't want him to be mad at me. After all he'd put sunflowers on my grave...

"Alright. You're ready Jack?"

"Yeah."

"Let's move out then."

Hands reached out for my arm and then I was pushed into motion and yanked on. Gunfire blazed. Biotic blasts boomed. Funny, it was almost as if I could feel them, building up, then getting released in waves of power. The monsters behind us screeched. At first it seemed impossible to get my feet off the ground but step by step I gained strength. My brain jerked out of its dangerous lethargy. The pain in my leg turned fuzzy. I quickened my pace until I was in a fast jog. I smelled ozone, its sharp metallic bite tickling my nostrils. My lids fluttered open. A faint pinkish film edged into my sight, but all that mattered was that we had cleared the slope and the shuttle was waiting. I didn't question why the Collectors hadn't felt the need to take it out. Or perhaps they just hadn't discovered its location. It didn't matter. It was just thirty meters away. Then twenty. Tali climbed into it, collapsing. Jack let go of my arm and with a shout, she released a last Shockwave. In fascination I watched how a blast of energy rippled up the slope, eating its way through dozens of creatures. Crippling limbs, tearing at muscles, crushing bones and carapaces.

Beautiful.

How come I never realized that there was so much beauty in destruction?

Someone shoved me into the shuttle, but I found myself unable to tear my eyes away from the carnage that spread out before us. The doors closed, the shuttle lifted off, and still I stared transfixed at all those lives we have taken within minutes. Within seconds.

They were dead.

We were alive.

I rubbed my eyes. Red blotches, almost like migraine spots had invaded my vision. I tried to blink them away, failed – then raised my hand to brush them off.

"Jeff! We're heading back! What's the status on their weapons?" Garrus asked.

Something told me it should have been me asking this question but it was kinda hard to focus my thoughts.

"90 percent. You better make this quick. EDI can't delay their systems much longer!"

"Heard that Hawthorne?" A female voice shouted and banged her fist against the wall behind her. "Get us the hell outta here! If we're getting BBQed, I fucking kill you myself!"

"Hey, Jack. Always eager to boost the team's spirit, huh?"

"Fuck you, Joker!"

"Keelah… can't you just shut up… and let me die…" Another female voice murmured.

"Shepard? You're alright?" someone asked.

"Mh-hmm," I answered, still trying to catch those blasted spots.

From there I went haywire.

~V~

Something was just not right with the Commander, sitting across from me in the shuttle.

Not only had Shepard been unusual silent since we snatched her out of her near blackout; she had also adopted an expression so vacant that I feared she would be happy with staring at a blank wall for the rest of her life.

Before I could worry further about her, the shuttle lurched hard to the left. I reached out to the side and caught Tali before she could fall out of the seat face-first. I buckled her safety belt on and the injured quarian slumped back into the seat. There she groaned softly at every movement of the shuttle, but resumed pressing her palm to her shoulder to keep the blood from leaking out of one hole at least. Hopefully the Doctor had the Med Bay ready. Through the open door that lead to the pilot's cabin, I could already see the Normandy speeding closer. We would make it. That was… one problem down, another to go.

"What's wrong with her?" I asked worried and waved my hand in front of the Commander's eyes.

Jack leaned over from her seat and peered at Shepard's face. Then she cursed. "Shit, how many cookies have you given her?"

"I don't know. Perhaps five or six?"

Arms crossed, the tattooed ex-con dropped back into her seat, grinning at me with so much malicious glee, it would have certainly worried me deeply if I hadn't already gotten used to her 'charms'.

"Oh, Vakarian, you are sooo screwed. She will have you scarred ass for this in the morning."

I stared at Jack, a bad presentiment creeping up on me.

"Shhhhh, not cookies," Shepard suddenly said, tripping over her words, gaze unfocused for a moment. Then she winked at me conspiratorially. "It's high nuti-irition field rations, y'know?"

The Commander started to snicker and I glared again at the bald-headed maniac who was still too amused for my likings. "Do you think this is funny?"

The insufferable woman shrugged. "Relax, Vakarian. She's a biotic. Her metabolism can handle a red trip."

I didn't convince me. Oh no, I wasn't convinced at all. But I also couldn't see that arguing with her would get me anywhere. Abruptly, the shuttle rocked to a halt inside the Normandy's air lock, the hatch closed behind us and with a slight shift in gravitation, the Normandy engaged her FTL jump.

.~'*'~.

"Professor, anything you can do for her?"

I asked Solus, while keeping a careful eye on the Commander, who was content to sit all geared up on the floor in front of the caged Seeker, snickering softly.

The salarian rubbed his chin. Since Dr. Chakwas had turned the Med Bay into a makeshift clean room to stich Tali up without giving the quarian a deadly infection in the process, the notorious Professor who had the guts to run a clinic in the middle of Omega's plague-infested no man's land, was my best shot. I didn't care that Jack had never grown tired of pointing out how ridiculous my worries were. If not for Shepard showing up, I would have died that fateful day on Omega – I was bound by my honor to make sure she was alright.

Of course, Vakarian. It's solely about returning a favor. Has nothing to do at all with the fact that a certain Spectre is haunting you in your sleep.

"Hmm. Could administer sedative-"

Despite the mental lockdown, that made Shepard's head whip around. She shot the salarian a fierce glare, only emphasized by the smear of dark Collector-blood on her face. Right. He'd likely lose more than just his fingers trying.

"- or just advice patience and sleep. Cerberus implants should enhance metabolizing of the toxic substances sufficiently," Solus added quickly.

The Commander snorted and resumed hawking the Seeker in its tiny glass box.

"Alright then, I'll bring her to her cabin." I nodded to Solus then stepped towards Shepard. I took her arm and motioned her to get up.

She just blinked at me sluggishly. "Huh?"

"Let's get you some rest, okay?" I pulled her up, then shifted my hold on her arm, steadying her wobbling stance.

"Mh-hmm… Sleep…" she replied and I started to steer her towards the door, but she wiggled herself from my grip. "Lemme go. I'm not an invalid, y'know?"

I looked back to where the salarian was shrugging at me as if saying, 'Could have told you so' and followed the stubborn Commander out.

To her credit, she wasn't an invalid right until the elevator's doors closed behind us. There she suddenly went limp as a wet towel and dropped heavily against me. In reflex I slung my arms around her and I hit the wall with my back, catching my balance there. I couldn't prevent her from bumping her head against my armor, though.

"Sorry," I winced, but she just slurred against my armored chest. Something about Mordin's request?

Then she started to giggle. "Can't feel my legs..."

This was getting better and better. Blasted convict with her blasted drugs.

The elevator stopped. With a sigh, I swept her up, once more surprised how much lighter than a turian she actually was. Her neck and legs dangled down my arms and I flinched. Last time…

The Thorian, leashing out in its death throes. Shepard writhing in agony on the ground, a quivering brownish tendril sticking out from her stomach. Tali yelling at Liara to fix her. Liara yelling at Tali that she has merely a doctor in archeology. Me, fighting this oppressive feeling in my chest, something between anguish and sheer desperation. I hack off the tendril, pick her up and she locks her eyes with mine. Finding somehow the energy to groan, "Leave… It's 'kay… Let… me… die..."

Not the first time I defied an order, but certainly one of those I regretted the least. So we saved her. And left so many others for death in exchange that day. Above all the colonists of Zue's Hope. We had no time to come up with some sophisticated plan that included sparing their lives. Still affected by the Thorian's neurotoxin, they had attacked, and we, we had simply slaughtered them down on our run back to the Normandy. Not even Alenko or Ashley had objected. Because otherwise, Shepard would have just as simply died in my arms.

I recalled the conversation I had with Tali earlier. Could it be that Shepard still felt responsible for the colonist's deaths? It was an odd notion; I had learned a long long time ago that tragic casualties were in the nature of warfare. You accepted the things you couldn't change and moved on. Humans on the other hand… they were never content until they saved everyone.

Maybe we should have tried harder to save Zue's Hope.

I pushed the conflicting thought away and stepped into her quarters.

This was my second visit aside from the one I had with the welcome-aboard tour and I still couldn't wrap my head around the fact that someone at Cerberus would actually authorize an aquarium on a space ship. And yet I couldn't help but admit that aside from the concept dedicated to a maximum waste of space and resources, this certainly was a comfortable and stylish place to stay. I mean, your own armory is all nice and well, but a private bath cabin? That's the real deal.

I carried the Commander down the few stairs, looking around. Maybe it was a bit sterile. Compared to Shepard's old cabin on the SR1, this one definitely lacked a certain personal touch. Then I spotted two small black knives, wedged between mattress and bed frame. I chuckled. Well, this at least was very Shepard.

I glanced at the bed with its pristine white sheets, then down at the Commander in her dirty, blood-splattered armor. I opted for the dark leather couch. Quickly. Before the utmost questionable notion that hovered in the back of my head sounded like a smart idea. Thanks, but no showers. Matters were complicated enough already.

I set her down and watched her for a very long moment. She had closed her eyes, an almost peaceful expression on her face. I finally nodded to myself. She was going to be okay. And Dr. Chakwas would see to her later, anyway.

"Rest," I mumbled, then twitched away before I dragged my fingers through her hair.

I straightened and turned. Feeling eerily like I had dodged a bullet. I shouldn't linger any longer. I shouldn't – was that an Armax thermal scope on her desk?

I walked over and picked up the scope. E44, hah! That version wasn't even on the market yet, and it was just sitting around here unattended? Inconceivable. Lawson and I were going to have a serious talk about procurement in the morning. I placed the scope back. Then spotted the dented black human helmet, sitting innocently on the desk's far end. That hadn't been here before either. I brushed over the charred ceramic plating, the small N7 insignia barely recognizable. The visor was cracked and stained rust-brown. From the inside. Turning cold, I pulled back.

Damn it, Shepard.

This was not healthy. Not even by turian standards.

"Hey… whatcha doin'?"

I gave a start and turned. Only, instead of laying on the couch, the Commander stood right in front of me. She tilted her head up, the black of her eyes dilated so widely only a narrow band of green remained. Not as terrifying as those life-sucking asari eyes, but damn me, no less confusing.

"Garrus-sss. You look serious." The pale-haired human Spectre slurred in a concerned voice. Then reached out and touched the undamaged side of my face. "Always so serious-sss..."

I closed my lids and allowed the sensation to linger. It felt good. Her concern. Her touch. Her proximity. Too good, where it should not have!

My eyes snapped open. Just in time to watch her gaze shift into something dangerous. Gloved fingers ran along my jaw and down my neck. I suppressed a shiver and caught her hand.

"Don't," I said, my voice rough from the tempest that boiled inside. "You don't know what you're doing…"

A predatory light flashed at the objection, and it was exactly the moment I realized I was facing an uphill battle. She snaked her other hand around my neck and pulled herself up on her toes, bringing her face close to mine.

"I do…"

Two words. Just two tiny words. Husky. Seductive. It was the sexiest sound I had ever heard from her and it sliced straight through my defenses, uprooting all those little dark fantasies I believed to have buried too deeply to cause any harm.

Guess I was wrong.

Wanna play, Vakarian?

And while I was too busy fending off the implications of that unhelpful thought, Shepard made her move.

Her mouth fastened on mine.

Logically, there was no reason why this should have incited any reaction at all. This was the human way of showing affection. Maybe also the asari's, but not ours. Not mine. Damn. What had become of me? I was drowning in a sea of should's and should not's, and it felt more right than anything of late. Because in reality… the sensation of her lips short-circuited my brain. Stiffened every muscle.

I inhaled sharply and instantly regretted it. Her physical proximity was bad enough, but now she was also boarding my second line of senses. Only this time it wasn't the clean, faint herbal scent I identified with the pale-haired Spectre, but something much more alluring – Shepard smelling of combat. Of sweat, guns and heat sinks; all mixed with an acrid trail of ozone, like lightning in a cloudless sky.

You really, really shouldn't have done this, little Spectre...

Indeed. This was madness. And yet there was Zue's Hope. And Alchera. I hated the harsh reminder sitting on her desk so painfully obvious. Hated that I already lost her once and since she got back… Too many close calls. Too many fights she entered just a bit too fast, just a bit too fierce. Reckless.

Uncaring if she lived or died.

Just like in the Collector ship.

The icy fear I had suppressed until now stabbed my heart. I clung to her with a sheer desperate fervency. Savoring that right now, she was here and she was alive. I dared not to twitch. Dared not to breathe. Anything to dwell within the illusionary enchantment just a little while longer.

Right until her lips started to move.

Faint and hesitant, a slow, pulling sensation built up against my skin. It felt alien and intriguing the same, while her motions rapidly gained intensity. She wedged her hand from my grip. Gloved fingertips pressed against the back of my neck, holding me tight. Heat flushed my skin like a fever pitch. I struggled with my body's balance and my thought's coherence. Cursing and blessing in turn the fact that neither of us had switched out of the armor, which now separated us like a wall of carbon fiber and metal.

I reached for her shoulders. Wrong. Human. Soft. Fragile. Mistake. Horrible horrible mistake. My mind yelled at me while my body tried hard to convince me otherwise. Her tongue slipped out, pushing its way roughly towards mine.

Spirits. This was killing me.

The aching need to give in was so raw and primal, so forcible in its command… In front of my mind's eye I saw another version of myself ripping through her armor, burying my face in the hollow of her neck, tasting her skin –

Look at her! This is wrong!

I forced the image away, hanging on to that last remaining bit of resolve like a falling man to a rope.

It's a lie!

The unpleasant truth pierced through the haze of lust and smothered the heat with disgust.

Because ultimately none of this was real. She didn't want me. The Red Sand did. She was just high as kite, her fierce reaction nothing but the deceptive byproduct of drug-induced neediness. I was her friend, damn it! What was my honor and my promises worth if I wasn't even able to protect her from ourselves?

My fingers flexed on her shoulders. As gentle as possible, I pushed her away, an old practiced calm finally soothing the storm within. Holding her at arm's length I said, "Please, Shepard. You're not reasonable…"

No reply. For a long dreadful moment she didn't even react at all. And there I stood holding my breath like an idiot, waiting for an outburst that never came. I searched her expression for anything, and all I found was the same closed-off stoicism I had seen her don so often in the past. If not for her pupils wide as saucers she would have seemed frighteningly lucid. Without another word the Spectre broke free of my grip, unclipped her guns, slammed them on the desk next to the scope and stalked off and up the stairs. The door of the bath cabin closed behind her.

I relaxed. It was better that way. The Commander's anger was a small price to pay for deflecting the cataclysmic fallout of the alternative. Right?

When I left her quarters, I was still waiting for the thought to bring any comfort.