Events of the chapter: the turian dreadnought prepares to head back to Palaven; Garrus shows up at Shepard's place in the middle of the night

Author's notes:
This chapter concludes Part I of "Taproot". I will be taking a break from the main story to write 1-2 companion chapters before continuing to Part II. I will also be reorganizing the titles so that the parts are clearly marked. Thanks so much for reading, and I look forward to sharing more stories with you in the next few weeks. Happy Holidays!

PART I, CHAPTER 14: Photosynthesis

1 year, 2 months after the Reaper War

Tuesday, afternoon
Turian Dreadnought

Garrus sighed, flicking through Miranda's latest report on the remaining criminals who had been involved with the contraband Reaper tech. Their joint human-turian operation was finally in the clean-up stage, but it would probably be a couple of months before they caught the last person responsible for killing their soldiers. Primarch Victus—a man steeped in honor and justice—agreed to let Garrus stay behind in Sol until all matters were neatly tied up.

Truthfully, Garrus felt relieved that he didn't need to return to Palaven right away. He was worried about Shepard; her nightmares hadn't been getting much better, and she wasn't making much progress with any of her therapy. She took great pains to conceal her hardship from everyone—including Garrus—but slip-ups were inevitable, and she was slipping a lot more lately.

Wednesday, evening
Turian Dreadnought

The Turian Hierarchy's flagship dreadnought hung above Earth, surrounded by what remained of the turian fleet. Primarch Victus stood on the bridge of the dreadnought and broadcast his message for the entire fleet to watch.

"My turian brothers and sisters, the time has finally come for us to return home. While we may have lost the much of our fleet in the war, we survivors will return with news of victory.

Our time in Sol has not been wasted. We have made alliances that have saved lives, and will continue to save lives. Alliances that will bring us through to a new era of peace and prosperity. Let us not forget the old wounds we have mended, nor the new bonds we have forged.

I want to thank each and every one of you for everything we have accomplished here. You have stood amongst the brave, and it's thanks to you that the Turian Hierarchy will live on. I know how difficult it has been living so far away from your loved ones and your homes. But we lived to fight another day, and now we will bring that fighting spirit home, so we may rebuild Palaven, and our colonies, and come back stronger. Die for the cause!"

"Die for the cause!" the servicemen repeated in unison.

Primarch Victus gave the signal for the fleet to leave Earth. One by one, the turian vessels initiated their FTL drives, blinking away to the Sol relay.

Vancouver, Earth

Shepard sat alone in the Alliance courtyard, looking up into the evening sky. She could see the outline of the Citadel—its five arms open like petals on a flower, a symbol of galactic cooperation, diplomacy, and negotiation. It had witnessed cycle upon cycle of creation and destruction. It had served as a gateway for the Reapers. It had been the home of the Catalyst. The Citadel was the question and the answer all wrapped up in one. And a year after the war it had been rebuilt anew. Little by little, the people were beginning to return. Even if the Citadel was orbiting above Earth instead of neutral Council Space, it bestowed a sense of normalcy upon its inhabitants.

If the Citadel was the harbinger of a Reaper's birth, then the Crucible was the harbinger of its death. The Crucible—the collective endeavour of an entire galaxy—was dismantled, its parts used to repair the Citadel, or in the reconstruction of vessels and other vital infrastructure. In this small solar system with limited resources, any and all things were deconstructed and reused for new purposes.

The mass relay was the only exception to that rule. For a year, the priority of every capable being in Sol was to bring the mass relay back online. It didn't matter that they had no way of knowing whether its partner relay was operational. The hope that all the stranded would be able to return home drove months of research and innovation. For humans, removing the pressure on their home system would be a welcome relief.

Countless civilizations had come and gone without knowing how the relays functioned, or who had really built them. They used them under the assumption that things would work as they always had. Their suns would always shine, their planets would always be, and the mass relays would always send them to far flung corners of the galaxy.

Wednesday, early morning
Vancouver, Earth

BAM BAM BAM!

BAM BAM BAM!

Someone is trying to knock down their front door. Shepard's father is whispering to her.

"Circe, you need to hide. Don't make a sound. Don't come out—for anything. You have to survive. Promise me. You need to survive."

Shepard hugs her dad tight and doesn't want to let go.

"Go, hide... now!"

BAM BAM BAM!

Shepard jolted awake. She shoved the bedding away from her shoulders and sat up.

Confused about where she was, she listened, then looked around the room before realizing she was alone. Through the small tinted window near the door, she could see it was still dark out. Shepard checked her omnitool for the time. 3:58 am. Who the hell is at my door at this hour? It'd better be Armageddon, or at least a damn fire.

BAM BAM BAM!

"JUST A MINUTE!" Shepard shouted at the door, her voice throaty and crackling. She grabbed her sweatshirt from the chair and slipped it over her head.

Still barefoot and in shorts, Shepard pressed the bypass on the door and grunted. Garrus looked down at her; his mandibles flared into a big grin.

"G-Garrus?" she stuttered. "It's four in the morning, why the hell are you here?" There was a lot she could forgive him for, but he knew that interrupting her sleep was one of the unforgiveable sins. There must be something wrong, she thought.

"Get some clothes on, Shepard, we're going out," he said cheerfully.

Shepard furrowed her brow. "W-what?...NOW?"

"Yes."

"I don't understand..." Shepard rubbed her forehead, still wondering why a charming turian sniper was standing at her doorstep at FOUR IN THE FUCKING MORNING.

"I don't need you to understand. I need you to get dressed," the sniper said mysteriously.

"Um, ok...give me a sec."

Shepard went back inside and quickly put a pair of joggers on over her shorts. She got her running shoes and jammed her feet in, not bothering with socks or doing up the laces.

"Follow me." Garrus walked her across the courtyard and to a side street off the main thoroughfare. He stopped at a small, wheeled vehicle that took up the width of the street.

"What...what is this thing?" asked Shepard.

"It's called a car." Garrus crossed his arms and leaned his backside against it, like he had seen models do so many times in those gaudy skycar ads on the Citadel.

Shepard cocked an eyebrow. "It's so... small."

"Come on, it isn't the size that counts," Garrus replied innocently.

"Isn't it though?" Shepard flashed a saucy smile and waggled her eyebrows.

"Damn it Shepard, must your mind always be this dirty?"

"Don't act like you don't like it," she said, lowering her voice. Shepard stepped close to Garrus and wrapped her hands around his neck. "Why not just take a skycar?"

Garrus put his hands around her waist and drew her closer. "They say the view is better by ground." His subvocals drew out into a long buzz as he felt her soft belly press against him.

"Do you even know how to drive this thing?"

"Mmmm, not very well—but I'm willing to bet I can drive it better than you drive the Mako."

"Hey!" Shepard carped.

"Shepard, the last time I rode in that vehicle with you we were on some rocky, godforsaken planet, and you managed to flip the old girl over. Poor Tali had to finish the mission with vomit in her helmet. Not to mention all the calibrations I had to make when we got back to the Normandy."

"Heh..." Shepard thrust her bottom lip out sheepishly and shrugged.

Garrus brushed his nose against her long bangs. "So are you getting in or what?"

"Alright, if it'll make you happy, honey," Shepard teased.

Garrus opened the passenger side door and let Shepard settle into her seat before shutting the door. He came around to the driver's side and stepped in.

"You're going to need to buckle that belt there," he warned her.

"Which belt?" she asked.

"This." Garrus leaned over and stretched the belt over her torso, then clipped the latch into the buckle.

"Awwwww..."

"What?"

"I thought you were leaning over to kiss me," she pouted.

"Oh...well I won't say no to that." Garrus held the steering wheel with one hand, then craned his neck forward and kissed her lightly on the lips. "Ready to go now?"

Shepard nodded shyly. Garrus started the car and turned on the navigation system.

"This'd better be good, Vakarian. I don't like being dragged out of bed in the middle of the night—unless it involves a) midnight snacks, b) sex, c) explosives, or d) all of the above."

"I can give you the first two if you like. The third I'm not so keen on." Garrus pulled the car forward and turned onto the main thoroughfare. "Check the back seat."

Shepard looked over her shoulder and found an unopened bag of potato chips resting in the middle seat. She yanked the crinkly package and plopped it into her lap.

"Garrus! You know me too well! Where did you even get these?" Shepard promptly tore the bag open and began munching.

"Mmm, I might know a certain quarian who's been trading her excellent engineering work for supplies and favors."

"Aw—thanks Tali, you're the best!" Shepard chewed contentedly, her smile insouciant and childlike. Plucking another chip from the bag, she reached over to feed one to Garrus before realizing what she was doing. "Oh crap, sorry. I could have ruined the entire date!"

"Date? Is this a date?" Garrus asked impishly.

"What else would you call this?"

"Mmmm... photosynthesis?"

Shepard stopped mid-bite and wrinkled her brow as she stared at him, but didn't ask what he had meant. She liked his mysterious answer.

They reached the main road out of the city and took off going north. Done snacking, Shepard rolled up the bag and set it down by her feet. She gazed out of the passenger side window as the shadowy city flickered by—like the slow exposure of a camera shutter, clicking over and over, its image caught between each closure. There was little light at this time of day, save for the car's headlights illuminating the empty road.

As they entered the Stanley Park District, Shepard gazed up at the buildings—a few still standing, most others being rebuilt—and hummed to herself. Part-way through the second verse she began to sing faintly:

"...and in this hole, there was a root, the prettiest root, that you ever did see. The root in the hole, and the hole in the ground, and the green grass grew all around and around, the green grass grew all around..."

"What's that you're singing, love?" Garrus asked.

"It's an old Earth tune. My mom and I used to sing it when it was time to plant seeds on the farm. It's about a bird in a tree, and all the parts of a tree that grow from the ground." Shepard's eyes followed a pedestrian skyway as they drove underneath it. "You know, this area of the city used to be a big park, with lots of tall, old trees. What a shame."

Garrus fixed his sight far down the road. "You don't talk about your mother much. Or your dad for that matter..."

"Yeah." Shepard picked at the pilled fabric of her joggers.

Garrus cast a glance at Shepard; if she was uncomfortable, he didn't want to push the subject too much. But since she had been the one to bring it up, he continued with the conversation.

"The two of you were close? It always sounded that way, from what you told me."

"The three of us—yeah, we were. And my older brother. But my brother left home when he was eighteen. I was only eight then."

"Spirits, Circe... you never even told me you had a brother."

As close as they were, and as much as they had been through together, sometimes Garrus felt as if Shepard was holding things back. And when she did drop something, it often landed like a boulder cast into a glassy lake—a big swell of splash and ripples and noise, and then stillness again.

"He died too, before the attack on Mindoir. In a skirmish on Elysium." Shepard leaned her elbow against the door and rested her cheek in her hand. In the side mirror, she watched the asphalt stream away in a ribbon behind them, endlessly disappearing into the darkness.

"Shepard, I'm sorry—"

"No, don't be. I choose not to tell people these things for a reason." Shepard sat up straight. "I don't want anyone ever feeling sorry for me. I'm a solider, I can handle myself."

The road began to rise as they crested the northernmost tip of the district; they were crossing a suspension bridge that connected the downtown core to the northern part of the city. Bright, starry lights dotted the cables that spanned the length of the bridge, bathing the black water below in a glowing wash of white.

Garrus cleared his throat. "So your brother...he was much older than you, then."

"Yeah... my parents always wanted another child, but they had trouble getting pregnant the second time around. They always said it was a miracle that I was born..."

Garrus' mandibles pulsed faintly as he took in Shepard's profile. Backlit by the bridge's lights, the shape of her placid face instilled a calm in him. His eyes traced the soft line of her forehead, down to her slightly upturned nose, past her full, bow-shaped lips, to her distinctive dimpled chin. Garrus tucked the image away in his mind.

He turned his attention back to the road ahead. "Well, your parents were right—you are a miracle."

Shepard snorted, then rolled her eyes in feigned exasperation. "And you're cheesy." She took Garrus' free hand and held it in her lap.

It was silent for the next fifteen minutes as they enjoyed each other's company in darkness, the peace of the world slipstreaming around them—still noiseless and asleep.

"How long until we get wherever it is we're going?"

"It's about an hour outside of the city, so...30 more minutes or so?"

"Alright. Do you mind if I take a nap then? I'm still a bit tired."

"Of course you can nap. It's going to be hard to see much on the way there anyway. You can take in the sights on the way back."

"Thanks, G."

Shepard pulled off her sweatshirt and rolled it into in a makeshift pillow. She watched Garrus as he drove, assured that she was in safe hands while she napped. Propping the sweatshirt up against the door, she lay her head down and closed her eyes.

Shepard heard the crackle of gravel beneath the tires as the car rolled to a stop. She squinted, lifting her head up from her makeshift pillow. "Oof, my neck," she complained.

"Hey, you're awake," Garrus said as he shifted the car into park. "We're here."

Shepard unbuckled and opened the door. She sat for a moment—one leg on the ground, arm holding the door open wide—and breathed in the moist, briny air. She stood up and shut the door behind her without looking as she stared out onto the landscape.

"Where are we?" she asked.

Garrus shoved at the top of his door to shut it, careful not to scratch the paint with his talons. "It's an estuary. Where the river meets the sea."

The sky was already lightening—a gray-blue blanket fading into washed out purple, lined with a thin braid of pink and orange blush at the horizon. Shepard beheld the wide valley of tall, golden grass. It was matted down and dotted with conifers and shrubs farther in the distance. A misty haze hung behind them, skirting the bottom of the serrated granite mountains that hemmed in the estuary.

"Wow...this place is amazing," she marveled.

"Let's walk farther ahead." Garrus pointed to a large patch of grass, beyond the wide stream of water that snaked its way through the marsh. "We can have a good view of the sunrise from there."

Garrus held Shepard's hand and led her through the grass as they trudged to the open area. A great blue heron—who had been standing absolutely still amongst the rushes and the sedges at the edge of the water—flapped its enormous wings and flew off toward the trees. The two peered east, where the sun had just started to peek over the ridge.

"This place is beautiful, Garrus...thank you for bringing me here." Shepard beamed, her face still pale with the subtle rays of morning light.

Garrus studied her as she faced the rising sun. The tiny freckles that peppered her upper cheeks. The purls and whorls of her ears—as strange as they were to him. Her expressive eyes that could scare and thrill in quick succession. The way she stood so tall, and was stronger than she looked. Her soft, vulnerable flesh underneath all her armor.

Tuesday, evening
Turian Dreadnought

An ensign interrupted Garrus at his station. "General Vakarian, something has come through to the ship's comm system. It's from Palaven, sir—a message for you. I've forwarded it to your personal account."

Garrus' mandibles went slack for a moment. "What? From who?" Garrus' stomach turned as he brought up his inbox on the screen. It was a message from his sister Solana.

Garrus,

I don't know if this message will even reach you. It's been months since we last heard from you. I hope you are alive and well somewhere.

I have news from home. Mom is being released from the Salarian facility. They say they aren't able to care for patients anymore because of a shortage of staff and resources. I don't know if it's true, but she's coming back to Palaven.

I don't know how I'm going to care for her, G. The situation here is dire, we don't even have regular power or running water. There are pirates and mercenaries in the city...it's scary.

And this isn't how I wanted to share this news with you, but...Dad is dead. He died in an attack on our escape shuttle. He died trying to protect us...he's the only reason I'm still alive.

If you get this message – please come home. We need you.

With love,

Sol

Song: "From the Morning" - Nick Drake
And now we rise / And we are everywhere / And now we rise from the ground / And see she flies / She is everywhere