Events of the chapter: Garrus has returned to Palaven. His sister Solana and his mother join him in Cipritine. A flashback to Garrus leaving Earth.

Author's notes: Ahhhhhh, finally back to the main fic! The companion story The Hori Hori Knife (action story with Miranda, Jacob & Garrus on Luna) is finished, but there is at least one more that needs to be finished for Part I of Taproot. In the meantime, here is the start of Part II. Thanks for reading :)

PART II, CHAPTER 1: Abscission*

1 year, 5 mo. after the end of the Reaper War
Cipritine, Palaven

As the sun approached its highest point in the sky, the circular petals of the arx flowers were already beginning to close up tight, protecting themselves from the harshest radiation of the day. Their long, lance-like leaves, alternating in bunches, nestled themselves against their tall, wiry stalks.

She traced a dull talon up the petals, admiring their texture.

"Mom, you can't be out here without your mask on. The air isn't healthy." Garrus tugged at the breather that was hanging around his mom's neck and secured it around the lower half of her face. He could swear he'd only been away for a moment; he was helping Solana carry her belongings inside when his mom had wandered out the door without either of them knowing.

Bent over the patch of arces, Garrus' mom pinched at the base of a stem. She plucked a single flower from the ground—the only purple bloom in the bunch—then tore off a few of the inky-green leaves near the bottom to neaten it up. As she rose, a torrent of fine particles rushed against her face. She shut her eyes tight. The wind had brought a brume of dust to the parched dale, the dust blunting the sun's rays but also trapping heat against the lowlands.

Garrus' mother opened her eyes to see her son's concerned face. "Castis, look at you, you've grown so thin! C-Sec has been working you too hard. What about a nice meal? Vitul stew?"

Garrus held his mother's free hand and squeezed, patiently explaining one more time. "Mom, it's me, Garrus. I've come back after being gone a long time. Do you remember?"

His mother stared hard for a few moments, her clouded eyes studying his markings. "Yes of course, Garrus, my son! Of course it's you." She smiled blithely. "Where is your father? I want to show him this exquisite arx flower I found."

"Mom…"

She held the flower up to her nose and took a deep sniff. The familiar scent, redolent with the sweetness of young love, triggered memories of times long gone. "Did you know—your father brought a bouquet of these the first time he met your grandparents? I had told him how much your grandmother loved wildflowers, and he remembered. She was so charmed."

Garrus cast his eyes on the flower. "Dad's not here, Mom." He lowered his head, wishing he didn't have to keep saying it out loud so many times in a day.

"No, no, you're right. He's busy at the Citadel, I know. They rely on him so much…"

Solana poked her head out of the front door, observing the scene. "Hey Mom, why don't you come inside? We can find a container to put your flower into."

"Yes, thank you Solana," she said.

Inside, it was much cooler and the air was cleaner, though a bit musty and stale. The bermed home was built into the hillsides of outer Cipritine, modest in size and design. The quaint style hadn't been built for hundreds of years—it featured more natural lines than modern turian buildings—but their concealed nature meant they were some of the few structures to survive the war intact.

"Your place smells weird, G. Like the inside of an old boot," Solana prodded.

"I'm afraid it's the best Cipritine has to offer right now. You're just going to have to get used it," he replied. "Here, Mom, let me take that."

Garrus rummaged through a beat-up crate of empty bottles. Selecting the cleanest one, he filled it with a dram of water and plunked the arx flower in. He held the bottle out. "Would you like me to put this by your bed? Why don't I show you where everything is."

As Solana accounted for their few worldly possessions, Garrus led his mother around the home. There wasn't much to show. The common room, at the front of of the home, was abutted by a simple kitchen. At the other end of the common room, there was a door leading to a bathroom and another leading to the only bedroom. Garrus opened the bedroom door and set the impromptu vase on a side table."You'll share this room with Sol, when she's in Cipritine. I'll be in the common room."

"Thank you, son, this will do just fine." Stooping over the bed, Garrus' mom smoothed the bed cover several times, admiring the stitching of the worn, handmade bedspread. She froze as she snagged a talon on one of the many loose threads. Her mandibles began to twitch erratically. In a matter of seconds, they flew out wide, tensed in place as if pulled by strings.

"Mom!" Garrus hollered. "Solana, get in here, she's having an episode!"

Solana rushed into the room and instructed Garrus to lay their mother on the floor. Their mom's body went rigid, her eyelids flung wide, and her fingers clenched into a tight fist. Gently, they rolled her on her side and waited for the seizure to stop. When she came to, their mom had forgotten where she was or why she was there.

"Take me back to Nasurn!" she demanded, her eyes darting wildly around the confined bedroom.

"You're at my place, Mom—in Cipritine. You're staying here with me now," Garrus answered. He calmly placed a hand on her cowl. Despite feeling uneasy that the episodes had become more frequent, he knew the best thing to do was to stay collected.

She sat up, pushing herself up awkwardly with her weak arms. "Nonsense, take me back to Nasurn this instant! Where is the nice salarian doctor? The one with the blue freckles—" Their mom's breath was quickening as her anxiety began to spiral.

Solana knelt down and held her mother's gaze. "The salarians shut their facility down months ago. You and I went to Digeris together. You remember the neighbor with the pet umbralian? The black one? You liked feeding her scraps in the evening."

Garrus had been watching Solana's face as she spoke to their mom—never once did it betray how she might have felt inside. Maybe she'd had so much practice now that it came as second nature. Or maybe she was just that unflappable. Whatever the case, he understood the potential Solana had unlocked when she chose to go to medical school.

"Oh…oh yes," her mom said slowly. "That's right. He always woke us up in the morning with his awful yowling." She grinned with her mouth open, then caught sight of Garrus, who was worried that she might get too agitated if they had to explain once more. "And now we're in Cipritine with your brother…because you need to perform your medical work. Oh, I'm so proud of you, Sol!" She raised a hand and stroked Solana's forehead tenderly.

"Thanks, Mom." she replied, continuing to hold her gaze.

"Oh my loves, I'm a bit tired…" Their mother tried to stand up on her own, but Garrus held his arm out to help her up. She lowered herself onto the bed then pointed for Solana to assist with her shoes. "You won't mind if I take a little nap?"

Garrus shook his head. "No of course not, Mom. Make yourself comfortable." He pulled the bedspread back and draped it over her, taking care to tuck the edges in around her. "We'll be in the other room if you need anything."

"Thank you, Castis."

Undone, Garrus focused on his mother's figure for a few moments before shutting the door—a formless shape under the bedcovers, a woman who was his mom but not his mom at the same time.

Solana was unpacking in the common room. She lifted a stack of her mother's garments out of a deep duffle bag and set it on the kitchen tabletop. At the top of the stack, a simple silver cuff was loosely swaddled in a red handkerchief.

"How long are you away for?" asked Garrus.

"My team is making rounds in New Aeris for two weeks, then south to Tergeste for one week. The number of respiratory cases has just soared, way beyond what we can manage. But the psych team has had it so much worse—I feel awful for them." She picked up the silver cuff and began to polish it with the handkerchief it was wrapped in. "Do you think you can handle mom for that long?"

"The truth? I'm not sure. She thinks I'm Dad half the time."

"I know. Some mornings I'm not sure if she even recognizes me." Holding the cuff out at arm's length, Solana inspected each side for spots she had missed.

"Honestly, Sol, I wonder if Mom would be better off on Digeris."

She stopped polishing the cuff and stared pointedly at Garrus. "That's not a choice we have, is it?"

"At least some of their infrastructure is still functional. And there are more resources available for her there."

"But Palaven is Mom's home. With her condition, somewhere familiar is a lot better for her."

Garrus scoffed. "Familiar? Does any of this look familiar to you? The Reapers turned the planet to dust."

"At least here she has me and you." Solana rubbed a finger against her brow plate. "Listen, I know you were out saving the universe for the last three years—and for that we are all grateful—but there are lots of ways to make a difference. I'll be damned if I'm going to let my education go to waste because some asshole, sentient machines decided we all needed to be uploaded to some mega-brain or whatever. It's enough that they killed everyone. Besides, you're a Hierarchy big shot now—you're telling me we can't get Mom some extra help here on Palaven?"

Garrus picked up the rifle he had been calibrating before his family arrived. Left on the tabletop, it was now in danger of getting lost amongst their belongings. He lifted the rifle into position and peered through the scope."You know just as well as I do that everyone needs help. Mom isn't exactly high on the priority list of citizens that need saving."

Solana exhaled slowly, her drawn out breath filling the space the of the entire room.

Garrus brought rifle down from his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Sol. I know that sounded harsh. We both want what's best for Mom—and right now there aren't any right choices." The rifle felt heavy in his hands. It had been a long week. A long month. A long year. It had been a long time since he had been home. "I—I wanted to come home, so many times, but there were….things…that happened. I thought I was doing good—sending money home and keeping Mom at the salarian facility. Then the war came…"

"Then the damned war." Rolling the cuff between a finger and her thumb, Solana curled it upward to read the inscription written on its inner margin: For my Dearest Bellona.

She swayed her mandibles in sedate, meditative pulses as she set the cuff down on the table.

"Remember when Dad used to make you shoot those targets over and over? You'd come home from the practice field, all mopey and upset. Every time. I thought for sure you'd give up on sniper rifles forever." Solana chuckled. "Spirits, you hated him for that so much."

Garrus crossed the common room towards the wall opposite the kitchen. "And look at me now." He set his rifle down into one of the many cradles he had installed to hold his guns. "It took me a long time to acknowledge it, but Dad knew what he was doing. I should have listened to him more than I did."

"I miss him, Garrus."

"Me too, Sol."

Illuminated by rays of daylight streaking through the window, Solana's face looked sharper and more wizened than he'd remembered. Garrus draped his arm around his sister's shoulders and squeezed. "He'd be so proud of you right now. We're all proud of you."

It had been weeks since Garrus had paid any attention to the state of his new, old home. Despite only having one wall with windows, the house accumulated debris as quickly as he accumulated weapon mods. He ran a damp cloth across the mantle, picking up a layer of black, clotted dust. He shuddered. This can't be healthy. Must do a better job for Mom's sake.

The mantle—recessed and built directly into the wall—had been empty until now. He began unpacking his mom's only box. It wasn't very big—maybe a quarter of the size of a standard footlocker, but it was pristine. There was not a scratch or a dent to be found on its surface, as if it had been packed only the day before. But Garrus knew this box. It was the one his mother always kept tucked away in her closet at their family home. He unlatched the clasps and removed the first item: the crude likeness of a turian general, made from glazed clay. Garrus rubbed a thumb over its rough-hewn surface, recalling how he had come home from school in a red hot rage, upset that the other kids had made fun of his work.

His mother had done her best to reassure him, "They laughed at you? That's no way to treat a friend. Well, I think your general is wonderful. I can see how hard you must have worked on this." She inspected the figure's face closely. "And can you imagine a turian general looking any other way? A military officer without scars is no real officer at all."

Scars—got plenty of those. Guess I'm a real general now, Mom. Garrus set the figurine onto the mantle. Next, he plucked a tattered manuscript from the box. He ran his hand over the cover his mother had made for it, then flipped through the pages with amusement. The manuscript was a manifesto of sorts. In it, nine year old Solana argued how turian society should do away with the tiered system of citizenship and allow for more shared power between the different strata of society. Garrus skipped over the handwritten text and jumped straight to the pictures. Drawn with the clarity and confidence of youth, the earnest images had been painted with bold, flat washes of color. Under her illustration of a cook, an officer, a child, and a retired librarian holding hands, she had written the caption: "Everyone should get along and make the decisions together for a better world." Garrus snickered. Oh Sol, you always did have an optimistic streak. He shut the cover with a clap and stood the manuscript upright on the mantle.

Garrus reached down for the last item in the box; it was wrapped in several layers of soft cloth. He cautiously undid the wrapping and lifted it out, taking care to use the pads of his fingers. A tarnished metal bowl. The inner surface was knobby and textured, reminiscent of turian skin. Its outer surface adorned with intricate geometric patterns—shapes within shapes within shapes. Over time, however, the expert engravings had faded to mere suggestions of lines.

The ceremonial bowl had been a retirement gift from the Academy, where his mother was once a respected scholar and historian. Highly regarded in her field, her work on early turian colonies was considered amongst the most significant and comprehensive to date. Sadly, the effects of Corpalis Syndrome put an end to those pursuits. News of her retirement shocked the entire department—she was only in her fifties, afterall—but the truth was that her symptoms had come on much earlier than she let on. They were so subtle that it had been easy to deny anything was happening. Garrus remembered how his mother was quick to wave off extreme fatigue as stress or lack of sleep, or how she had forgotten their neighbor's name and said it was just part of aging. How her skin had begun to turn dry and sensitive, so that when he touched her she recoiled in discomfort. How he was so involved in his own young troubles that he hadn't understood it wasn't personal.

Garrus thought of taking a cloth to the tarnish, but the tarnish had been deep-seated for too long to be removed. As he placed the bowl down, his omnitool pinged loudly. The metal bowl clattered on the mantle. Only one person could be calling him right now.

Primach Victus' voice came through. "Vakarian. My apologies for calling on a leave day—I know your mother only just arrived. But we have an urgent situation in New Aeris. One of the rebel groups is kicking up a fuss about energy distribution and they've taken hostages in the city center. I need you to take the lead in setting up safe camps and directing military activity there. I need you to go today."

Garrus stared at the bedroom door. His sister had stepped out to organize supplies with her colleagues, but he couldn't let his mom wake up alone in an unfamiliar house without either of her children there.

"Understood, sir. I just need a bit of extra time. I'll contact headquarters as soon as I can leave."

"Thank you, Garrus."

Garrus immediately called Solana to see if she could come home early. When she didn't answer, he sent a message, hoping she would see it if she couldn't take his call. He continued to tidy the house as he waited. Moving his mom's box to the corner—the one he thought he had emptied—he spied a tiny object hidden along one of its edges. He pinched the object between his fingers and lifted it to his face. It was a smooth, black pebble. Why is this in here? Garrus figured it had gotten in while they were packing, but just to be sure he set it in the metal bowl for safe keeping.

Solana arrived home from her meeting an hour later. Pretending to sulk as she entered, she poked at her brother. "I'm not happy about being called back early, you know," she said as she waggled her mandibles. "But I know Hierarchy stuff takes priority, so I'm not going to make a fuss."

"I didn't think you would," Garrus replied coolly.

Even as adults, they were still playing parts that were cast for them long ago. He was the capable but disobedient son, and she was the spoiled baby of the family. The truth—Solana was the least selfish person he knew. She was the child who wanted to care for everyone. She was the child who stayed near home when their Mom got sick. She was the child who took care of her when their Dad died. Always ready to help, even if it meant giving part of herself away. And that made it even harder for Garrus to face what he had left her with while he was gone for all those years.

"Garrus.…you need to take care out there, hmm? Mom can't afford to lose anyone else, not now." Solana gripped his wrist, her eyes downcast. "And I can't afford to lose you either."

"Come on, Sol. I've made it this far, right? I can handle myself on Palaven. I have been." Garrus gripped her wrist in return. "And same goes for you. It's dangerous out there right now." They let go of each other. "Look, I'll be back before you know it. And even if we can't find a specialist for Mom, we'll find a care worker through the Hierarchy. They can at least do that much."

Solana nodded. Looking back through the door, she saw her mother was up and about and had gone through the bathroom door. "I'd better go back inside, Mom will be looking for one of us."

"Sure. I'll just wait for transport out here, it'll be easier that way. Bye Sol."

"See ya, G. Do good out there."Solana shut the door.

Garrus traced a line along the edge of the house—pacing back and forth in small steps—thinking of ways he might be able to repay Sol for being there when he couldn't be. In the end, he concluded there wasn't anything that would 'make up' for the time he missed. No use in feeling guilty. It's already done. They're alive, that's what matters. All he could do now was protect them and provide as much help as he was capable of in his position.

He stopped near the patch of arces his mother had picked over when she arrived. He observed them, taking note that he had never seen metalloid flowers on any other planet except for Palaven. Not even Earth. He thought of Shepard, and how much she loved wildflowers. Garrus brought up the image capture function on his omnitool and centered the flower in the middle of the frame. After taking shots from several angles, he chose the one he thought captured the essence of the plant best. He wrote a message to accompany the photo:

Circe,

Mom and Sol arrived in Cipritine today. Mom is doing ok, but she's still having trouble remembering who I am sometimes.

I saw this flower near my place and I thought you might like it. It's an arx flower, a wildflower that grows in the region. It's different than the ones you find on Earth or Mindoir, right? I hope someday I can show you in person.

I miss you more than you know.

Yours,
G

1 year, 2 months after the Reaper War
Earth

Driving back from the estuary, Shepard could now see the extraordinary views she had missed on the way there.

"Wait, pull over," Shepard said.

"Here?" Garrus continued driving several meters before finding a spot to stop on the side of the road. The road hugged the mountainside, overlooking a wide ocean sound pierced by several large islands.

Shepard gazed out onto the water and raised her arms high in the air. She took a deep breath in, filling her lungs with the crisp air. "Ahhh, the ocean..." She closed her eyes, a calm smile gracing her face.

Garrus couldn't wait any longer. He ran his hand along her back and spoke.

"I have something to tell you, Circe."

"What is it?" Shepard opened her eyes, her expression placid and satisfied.

He didn't want to say it. They would have surely had more time together, more time to say goodbye if he hadn't received word from home. But he needed to go. There was no escaping goodbye, now or later.

"I'm leaving—for Palaven. Tonight."

"…T-tonight?" A gust of salty wind battered the cliff, blowing Shepard's hair across her face and chilling her skin. "Like tonight tonight? Wait, why? I thought the Primarch wanted you to stay behind until the investigation was done?"

"Communications from Trebia started coming through the relay. There was a months old message from Solana. It's my mom."

Shepard's mouth dropped open as she searched Garrus' eyes for an answer. "Oh god, she's not…is she…"

"No, thank goodness." He let out a sigh of relief. " But the salarians are releasing her from the facility. She's probably already gone back to Palaven, or wherever my sister is."

"Oh thank god. I'm glad to hear she's safe, truly." Tears welled in her eyes.

Garrus wondered if the tears were of relief or sadness, or perhaps both. What he needed to tell her next could only be one.

"There's one more thing…"

"Hmm?"

Garrus pressed his mandibles hard against his face. He hadn't said the words out loud until now. He hadn't even told Primarch Victus yet. Saying it out loud would make it real. But he needed to tell Shepard, to tell someone he felt most vulnerable with. "Solana mentioned my dad. He...he's dead."

His throat began to close up. He'd been holding it in all morning, hoping Shepard wouldn't notice. It was his last day with her and he didn't want it eaten up by grief. Who knew when they would see each other again? He wanted `to remember something beautiful, and to enjoy her company until the last moment. But now that the sun was up the light shone too brightly.

The tears that had welled up in Shepard's eyes began to fall as she silently embraced him around the middle, squeezing hard around his arms and pressing her hands up his back. The sound of breaking waves roared in the distance, their ceaseless pounding choking Garrus' ears.

*Abscission: the shedding of various parts of an organism, such as a plant dropping a leaf, fruit, flower, or seed.

Song: Soccer Mommy - yellow is the color of her eyes
Loving you isn't enough / You'll still be deep in the ground when it's done / I'll know the day when it comes / I'll feel the cold as they put out my sun