Chapter 3: Two Sides of the Same Shitty Coin
Trigger Warning: Medical Trauma
Beep.
Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhk.
Beep.
Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhk.
Beep.
Garrus Vakarian stood frozen, unsure of what he was even looking at. He knew it had to be
Shepard. But the person before him barely resembled the woman he had fought beside,
laughed with, and loved. She was encased in a tube-like structure, her hair completely shaved,
with cybernetics exposed across her body. A breathing tube extended down her throat, forcing
life into her lungs. Her eyes were closed, her expression caught somewhere between peaceful
slumber and a restless dream. She was a patchwork of bandages, metal, and wires—a haunting
vision of survival at its most fragile.
Liara stumbled into the room like a ghost, her movements slow and mechanical. Without a word,
she dropped into a chair beside the medical pod and reached for Shepard's bandaged,
stitched-together hand.
Garrus squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the sight. But it didn't help. Behind his lids,
memories came unbidden, flashing in vivid, painful clarity. He saw his mother, skeletal and frail,
dwindling away during her final days. The image shifted to Shepard, beaten and bruised,
pushing herself past every limit. Each fight left her bloodied and battered, but she never
stopped. She never rested.
A sharp, rapid hissing noise filled the air, snapping Garrus out of his spiraling thoughts. For a
moment, he couldn't place the sound. Then, he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"Garrus," Liara's voice was soft but firm. "Take a deep breath."
He blinked, opening his eyes, and realized the sound was coming from him—his own ragged,
shallow breathing. He was hyperventilating, teetering on the edge of a full-blown panic attack.
"Spirits," he wheezed, clutching at his chest. "I—I—"
"Go," Liara said, her voice trembling as tears welled in her eyes. "I'll stay with her. Just go."
Garrus didn't argue. He couldn't. He turned on his heels and fled, his boots pounding against
the sterile floors of the hospital. He ran blindly, choking on rage and bitter tears, leaving behind
the woman he loved as she clung to life by a thread.
Hours later, Garrus found himself in a grimy little bar—the kind of place that didn't ask
questions. It had only just reopened after the chaos of recent events, but it was far enough from
the ship and the hospital to feel like an escape. He slumped over the counter, nursing his fourth
beer.
He hated himself. Shepard deserved better. Spirits, no one deserved better than her and he
couldn't even stomach being in the same room as her when she needed him most.
A light clink drew his attention. The bartender, a gruff human with a bushy mustache, set down a
milkshake in front of him. It had sprinkles. And a curly straw.
Garrus lifted his head slightly, glaring at the man in confusion. Is he… insulting me?
The bartender grunted a dry laugh and nodded toward the other end of the bar. Garrus followed
his gaze and spotted Joker, hunched over a beer, looking equally miserable.
"What the crap is this?" Garrus asked, gesturing at the milkshake.
Joker shrugged, his shoulders slumping. "Funniest thing on the menu. You weren't responding
to your name, so…"
Garrus sighed and took a sip. The absurdity of it actually earned a weak chuckle from him.
"Damn," Joker said, shaking his head. "That's a sight I never thought I'd see."
Garrus offered a weak smile. "What are you doing here, Joker?"
Joker's expression darkened as he set his beer down. "Liara messaged me. Told me about what
happened at the hospital."
Shame washed over Garrus. "Yeah… not my finest moment."
"Nah, I get it," Joker said, his voice sharper than expected. "It's hard."
They sat in silence for a long time. Every minute seemed to double the angry tension between
them. Eventually annoyance flared in Garrus's chest. "Do you have a problem with me, Joker?"
Joker slammed his beer down, the sound echoing in the quiet bar. "Yeah, I do. You're sitting
here, drowning in self-pity, while Shepard—someone who's always had your back—is clinging to
life! And instead of being there for her, you're hiding. Running! She deserves better than this,
Garrus!"
The words hit Garrus like a gut punch. He opened his mouth to argue, but no sound came out.
Joker wasn't done.
"You got her that far almost all the way to the beam," Joker continued, his voice cracking. "The
Citadel fell. The Mass Relays glowed red. All synthetic life was wiped out. But you got to do your
part to save Shepard.
And now she's…" He trailed off, his hands trembling as he covered his
face. "EDI. The Geth. All of them—gone. And there's nothing I can do."
Garrus reached out, placing a hand on Joker's back as the pilot broke down, ugly sobs wracking
his thin frame. The weight of their shared grief pressed heavily on them both.
Eventually, Garrus mumbled under his breath. "I know. I'm sorry. But… if Annie had anything to
do with that, she would have had a plan. Right? She loved EDI too."
Joker looked up, eyes bloodshot. "Yeah. Yeah. Your right. Come on. The team is waiting for us."
Later that night, Garrus returned to the Normandy, emotionally spent. He found himself in
Shepard's cabin, surrounded by memories of her: the fish tank she could never keep alive, the
neatly arranged books and trinkets. It felt both comforting and suffocating.
He laid on the bed, taking a deep breath. He enjoyed feeling something solid against him for a
moment. Until his mind started to wander.
Beep.
Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhk.
Beep.
Nope. Not going there.
He turned on the shower, letting the scalding water run over his battered body. As he stretched,
trying to ease the tension in his muscles, he noticed something new—a bottle of Dextro-safe
soap.
His mind flashed back to the night before the final battle. Shepard, smiling despite the weight of
the galaxy on her shoulders, "Come on." Shep said sweetly, "Shower with me."
She was in her lacy black bra and underwear, smiling for the first time in weeks. "Please?" She
added softly. Squeezing his hand.
He leaned back, still breathing a little heavy from testing his reach and her flexibility. "I
appreciate it. But unfortunately I ran out of soap three days ago and I don't think Tali would
appreciate being a participant of our little rendezvous.
Shepard had looked at him confused. "I… Just get soap from the showers. I'm sure there's
Dextro soap there. It won't be fancy but I'm sure it'll do the job." Her voice was harder than he
was expecting and she pouted a little at him. It damn near shattered the cold cockles of his
heart. In truth he was always planning on joining her, he just couldn't let her have absolutely
everything she wanted.
"Ah well," he had said sitting up. "It's unfortunately not common for human alliance ships to have
aliens on board. So Dextro approved soap is not something they keep in stock. Tali and I usually
just buy our own and keep it in our personal quarters."
Shock, realization, fury, determination. Like a candle flicker, those emotioned danced across
Shepards face. "When we get back, I'll change that. That's something to live for."
Garrus, feeling a little bad that he had upset her, got up off the bed. Giving her a human kiss to
sooth her, and then picking her up, throwing her over his shoulder. She let out a squeal as he
carried her to the shower. "Yes, well when you get the soap clause in your treaty approved let
me know. But for now, water will have to do."
He put the bodywash to his forehead, feelings of being torn apart falling to pieces bubbling up
again.
"Fuck."
He thought about Shepard in the tube again, no doubt suffering if she was at all aware. He had
no idea that the person in that tube was still there. He had no idea that that spark, that soul, that
wildfire would exist even if she ever opened her eyes again. Would she want to keep fighting?
Were they cruel just by keeping her alive? How long would she stay in that state of dead and
alive? How long would he wait? He knew he'd wait for her forever. How can you follow
Commander Shepard with anyone else?
Forever. He'd wait forever.
He made his way to the floor and finally just cried. Just heartbreaking wails that ripped through
his entire body.
He stayed on the shower floor for a long at some point. He started to feel just a little
better.
By the time he emerged, it was nearly 3 a.m. To his surprise a fresh set of Turian civilian clothes
and a note awaited him on the desk:
"Figured you might need these. Heard you were beginning to stink up my ship. Remember,
you're not alone. We're here if you need to talk. – Miranda"
Garrus smiled faintly- despite being incredibly weirded out- and pulled on the pajamas, and
collapsed onto Shepard's bed. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he fell into a deep,
dreamless sleep.
"Good morning, Garrus," a familiar melodic voice chimed, waking him gently. "The time is 7:30
a.m. Dr. T'Soni has requested your presence at the hospital for breakfast."
Garrus blinked, sitting up drinking a glass of water.
…
…..
…
"EDI?!"