"I wake up every night…sick…and sweating. Each of their faces staring at me…accusing me. I'm already a dead man, I don't sleep. Food has no taste. Some days…I just…I just want it to be over."

He remembered those words. Sidonis. The turian who had betrayed Garrus back on Omega and gotten his mercenary team killed. Those were the last words Garrus had heard from that coward of a turian before he turned himself into C-Sec.

Sidonis had sold out Garrus to three different mercenary groups to save his own skin. Ten lives were taken because of him, and he had held that grudge for so long. He swore that he would make that sniveling traitor pay for what he had done.

But when he and Shepard finally found that worm, Garrus… he just couldn't do it. The murderer of ten good people, the one who sacrificed his comrades for his own survival, standing right before him, yet there was something that was compelling him not to do it.

Was it because there was still goodness in Sidonis? Maybe he was just so pathetic that the kill just wasn't worth it.

Regardless of the reason, those final words that Sidonis said before taking off… That was exactly what Garrus was feeling right now.

A large bag was being wheeled out of the cafe on a gurney. It looked like it was filled with something. Something big to be exact. From the shape of it. It was likely a body bag.

Garrus sat in silence on the ledge of the ambulance. His once vibrant blue eyes now dull and almost lifeless. There was someone beside him talking about… something. But he wasn't paying attention. All focus was directed at the bag.

This wasn't fair. It was as if he were cursed, or he himself was the curse. No matter what happens, everyone Garrus would grow close to dies. Already, there have been so many.

Ashley, Erash, Monteague, Mierin, Grundan Krul, Melenis, Ripper, Sensat, Vortash, Butler, Weaver, his colleagues at C-Sec after the Cerberus attack, Mordin, Thane, Legion, EDI, Anderson…

Shepard… and now…

"…need some stitches for this knife wound, so if you have any plans for the rest of the day- Garrus?"

Garrus snapped out of his trance and turned to his right. A woman was standing beside him with bloody gauze in her hands. She was older, with medium length grey hair.

"Are you with me?" She asked.

"Oh. Uh, yeah. Sorry, Dr. Chakwas. Stitches, right?"

Karin Chakwas. She had been with the Normandy crew since the beginning. As the ship's doctor, she was responsible for treating the team whenever they were injured in battle. She was also responsible for helping put Garrus back together after he was shot in the face with a rocket back on Omega.

The woman worked tirelessly to save him that day. It was only fair that he and the team would save her after she and most of the ship's staff were kidnapped by the Collectors.

Chakwas tossed the gauzes into the trash can in the ambulance before taking hold of a panel. It powered on and she showed Garrus the details of his injury.

"As I was saying, the knife tore into your rotator cuff with the hook of the blade latching around your clavicle. We won't be able to remove it without surgery, so cancel any further plans today, Garrus."

The turian's eyes looked down at his shoulder. The knife was still embedded in him, but was wrapped around with bandages to prevent any further bleeding. It hurt like hell from the slightest movement of his right arm.

"What about Liara." He asked.

Chakwas flipped the page on her panel to Liara's info. "She suffered some bruises, but nothing major." She replied. "It probably would have been a different story for you both if Wrex hadn't shown up."

"Ha! You're welcome!"

Beside Garrus stood Wrex himself, leaning against the ambulance on his side with his arms crossed and a snarky smirk.

"I didn't need your help, Wrex." Garrus claimed with his pride wounded.

"Oh really? Like how you didn't need my help when CAT6 mercs ambushed you and Shepard?"

A large three fingered hand patted Garrus on the back in a mocking fashion.

"Don't you worry, buddy. Uncle Urdnot will always be here to bail you out of trouble!" Wrex laughed.

Garrus couldn't help but snicker. "Still calling yourself that?"

Something in the distance caught the turian's eye. It was the gunslinger, bound in handcuffs and being roughly escorted to a sky car by two armed officers.

Garrus stared right at the gunslinger with utter disgust. The hatred he was feeling at that moment was enough to make him want to throw up at the mere sight of that man.

He was a killer.

A murderer.

Reeka's murderer.

"Commander Vakarian."

His gaze broke away from the gunslinger. Standing in front of him was a human. He had short blond hair and was dressed like the other officers. C-Sec.

"Bailey." Garrus said.

Armando-Owen Bailey was a commanding officer of C-Sec, usually stationed around the Embassy of the Citadel. He and Garrus went back a long time, all the way to the Reaper War.

Before that, C-Sec was mostly consistent of turian operatives but, after Sovereign's attack on the Citadel, humans were welcomed into their ranks; Bailey being one of them.

"Glad to see you're alright. I heard you and Dr. T'Soni had quite the scuffle in that cafe."

Garrus sighed. "That's putting it lightly."

"Would you mind telling me what exactly happened in there?"

What had happened? Seriously? Someone died in there! His FRIEND died in there! That's what happened! It couldn't be more obvious!

"I'm I being interrogated or something?"

Bailey shook his head.

"No. You're a victim here, Commander, and so is Dr. T'Soni. I'm just asking questions so that I can get a statement."

Garrus sighed. Of course. Questioning victims of crimes. That was protocol. He had been so blind by hate that he had forgotten about that.

"I don't know. I just noticed that he was trying to rob the register and then things spiraled out of control. Liara and I tried to stop him, but he was…" He flinched. The muscles around the knife twitched and sent pain through his body. "Skilled. Very skilled. Had some crazy weapons too, for a petty crook."

"So I heard… What madman rigs his knives with explosive charges?" Bailey wondered.

"Or magically pulls out a giant spear out of thin air?" Garrus added.

"If I knew he could do all that, maybe I shouldn't have knocked him out. Wouldn't mind taking him on myself." Wrex joked.

The sky car containing the gunslinger began levitating off the ground before zooming away overhead. Garrus watched as the symbol of his aggression faded from his sight, not letting up with his scowl.

"Whoever he is, we'll find out. You did good holding him off until we arrived, Commander."

Did good? Really? That was hardly 'good' at all. Garrus couldn't do a single thing, nor Liara.

"We got our asses handed to us, Bailey. A woman is dead because of a decision I made. That doesn't seem like I "did good" in my books."

Bailey reassuringly placed his hand on Garrus' shoulder.

"Garrus, a cafe full of civilians are alive thanks to the two of you. If you hadn't tried to stop him, that lowlife would have taken out everyone in there to leave no witnesses. It could have been a mass shooting."

While Garrus appreciated Bailey's attempts, the guilt of Reeka's death was too tough to break through. Nothing he would say could change that.

Hours spent at the hospital paid off. The doctors had managed to repair the damage done to Garrus' shoulder. With the right procedures combined with minor cybernetics, his arm would be good as new within a couple of days. Liara was given a quicker discharge than Garrus himself since her wounds were so minor. All she needed were some bandages and a bottle of painkillers and she was off like a prom dress.

It had soon turned to night and Garrus was walking his way back to his apartment. He was unsure as to what had happened to the gunslinger from earlier though, as Bailey refused to disclose that information. Garrus only hoped that he would rot inside a prison cell for his crimes.

As for Reeka… Garrus had requested that Bailey let him inform her parents of her fate, as she was a dear friend. After stopping by their home and revealing the awful truth. Reeka's mother bursted into tears and fell into her husband's arms. He could not express how sorry he was for failing to protect her. But her parents held no resentment towards the turian.

Instead thanking him for being there in Reeka's life, as she had always told them about him whenever he wound stop by her cafe. Garrus stated that he was truly lucky to have known such a wonderful person like her.

The doors slid open and Garrus walked in, then shut behind him afterward. He plopped down on the sofa in front of the tv. The large monitor powered on, illuminating the dark room.

The channel was set to the Citadel News out of default, and just look who was right there broadcasting. Khalisa. That annoying and selfish reporter who Shepard, and at one point a krogan, had made a habit of punching in the face.

It would appear that she was covering the attack on the cafe earlier today, and it also appeared that she was sporting a nice shiner on her left eye as well.

"I'm standing here at the Jumpy Vorcha Cafe where, earlier today, there was an attempted robbery turned massive brawl between Commander Garrus Vakarian of the Normandy, Dr. Liara T'Soni, and an unknown assailant.

There were several wounded during the fight and at least one fatality. Reeka Talarious, a barista who was working at the time.

I had attempted to question Commander Vakarian about the events that had transpired here, but as you can clearly see, he instead assaulted me, much like Commander Jane Shepard made a habit of.

Let me just express that he and Commander Shepard truly deserved one another because those savages seem to only know violence over sharing the truth with the galax- Hold on, someone is walking this way. It appears to be Major Kaiden Alenko. Maj-"

"I was just passing by, but let me just say that I've had ENOUGH of you badmouthing my friends!"

*POW*

Kaiden's fist smashed into Khalisa's only good eye. The reporter fell to the ground in a slump. Garrus couldn't help but laugh at what transpired. Getting to hit Khalisa himself was already incredibly satisfying.

Back with the TV, Khalisa was getting back up onto her feet and Kaiden had already left.

"The damn nerve! Does everyone on that ship have it out for- Wait. What does that tagline say? LOL?! Are you guys &@?ing kidding me?! What the #*@!"

The tv powered down. He'd rather not listen to Khalisa run her mouth any further. Garrus laid back on the couch and rubbed his face with his hands.

What a day…

How could so much occur before it was even noon? Not only that, just who in the galaxy was that man he fought? His weapons were on par with that of anti-Reaper weapons, and his skills surpassed that of both Thane and Kai Leng combined. But if so, why rob a fucking cafe?

Garrus was too wound up to think about the reason behind the gunslinger's actions. Too angry about failing to save Reeka. The turian really wanted a drink, but that was a bad idea. He needed to blow off steam in a different way.

Garrus got up off his couch and walked down the hall. He proceeded to the back room. That was where the punching bag was. What better way to work off steam? Garrus had removed his shirt and put on hand wraps to protect his knuckles.

He began his assault on the hanging sandbag. Garrus started off with a series of jabs and crosses, then followed up with hooks and jabs.

Garrus' strikes were hard and forceful. The bag was easily being rocked back and forth by the series of powerful blows. Garrus didn't get his muscles by lounging around after all.

With each hit, images flashed before him. Images of Reeka, and her smile. With each image, Garrus hit the bag harder and faster. Sweat poured down his face. Heart raced. His temper rising.

He failed her. All he does is fail. Like he failed his team on Omega. Like he failed to save Thane when Kai Leng ran him through with a katana. Falling to save Shepard.

Shepard. Now she was in his head. She infested his thoughts like a parasite.

Her smile.

Her voice.

Her eyes.

Her words…

No Shepard without Vakarian… No. it was the opposite.

No Vakarian… without Shepard!

"SPIRITS FUCKING DAMNIT!"

That was the last straw. He pulled back his right fist and punched the back with every ounce of strength he had. The force was so strong that the bag was actually torn off the stand and flung into the wall behind it. The wall that now had a large crater in it.

Garrus was in shock, staring at the bag that he sent flying into the wall. How did he do that? He was nowhere near that strong. Garrus looked down at his fist and noticed something off about it. Like, REALLY off.

The fist was glowing green, with small waves emanating from it. They looked like little strings. Threads.

Tiny… Strands.

The energy quickly vanished and his fist returned to normal. Garrus examined his appendage. There were no signs of the energy left now.

What was that? Biotics perhaps? Was Garrus awakening as a biotic? That couldn't be. Garrus had never been exposed to Element Zero at any point in his life. Not only that, the energy was a different color. Biotic energy was blue, not green. Although his prothean squadmate, Javik's biotic energy was green. Maybe-

Wait. Was Garrus going to think that he's part prothean? That's just crazy.

"Okay, I need to unwind…"

Maybe he was just tired and seeing things. Perhaps he WAS just stronger than he looked.

After cleaning up the mess he had made, Garrus had headed up to the second floor. He walked into his bedroom, then his joining bathroom. The turian began to strip down until he was fully in the nude.

Garrus' body couldn't be any more alien. Two long, proportionately thick fingers and an opposable thumb on each hand, each tipped with talons sharp enough to shred steel. His most distinguishing feature is his metallic carapace, which all turian's had. They evolved this unique trait as a natural defense against the greater levels of solar radiation that penetrate Palaven's weak magnetic field. There was also a blue tattoo etched into his right shoulder. A blue pair of wings with two bars above it. That was Garrus' old armor marking during his days as Archangel.

Slowly, Vakarian stepped into the hot tub. The steaming hot water felt wonderful against his plates. He sighed in relief as he sat back in the bubbling waters.

That was when he heard a ticking sound out of the blue. It snapped Garrus out of his blissful trance. He wondered where it was coming from. That was when it hit him.

Hot tub.

Ticking.

Timer.

Arma-fucking-geddon!

This was the first time Garrus had ever used the hot tub. He had completely forgotten that Zaeed had booby trapped it during Shepard's house party! Crap! What was the password to turn it off?!

"Uh… I HEART GARRUS!"

"Password accepted, ya fuckin' bloke!"

Zaeed even put his voice in it. How classy.

Any longer and Garrus would have been cooked like the bird he is. He completely forgot about those traps.

*Five years ago*

…

"Micro-filaments's the answer."

"You think?"

"Thinner the better. Tough to spot."

"Yeah… A five-by-five grid across the glass should do the trick."

"Oh, it'll do more than that."

Garrus remembered how Shepard reacted to this.

"Alright Garrus, I gotta know. What are you doin'?"

"Hm? Oh nothing. Just uh… Admiring the polish on this glass."

"Good. Don't tell her. She won't understand." Whispered Zaeed to Garrus through the turian's earpiece.

"Try me."

"Oh, it's just… Well, one man's decorative glass wall fixture is another man's explosive glass wall fixture."

"Now you're in for it. I can already hear the ol' ball and chain frowning."

That worried look that she had on her face that night was absolutely priceless… as was that glass wall fixture since the maker of it was a famous artist.

"Explosive..?"

"Micro-filaments, Shepard! Tiny strips of explosives laid across the glass on a grid. It's your first line of defense. When an intruder enters, hit the switch and… BOOM! They're shredded to pieces."

"Weaponized wall fixtures, Shepard. Wave of the future in home defense.

"Uh huh."

"Shepard. Sweetie. Love of my life. Indulge your crazy boyfriend. I need to know you're safe."

A chuckle escaped Shepard's lips. "If it'll make you feel better, honey."

"…Oh, go get a room. God knows this place has enough of 'em."

Garrus couldn't help but look back on that night and laugh. He was so worried about Shepard being attacked by an evil clone of herself again, he practically turned her entire apartment into a bomb. "Spare no expense for my honey." If he recalled correctly. It was a miracle C-Sec didn't arrest him and Zaeed for extremism.

Those were the days. He would cherish them forever.

Garrus opened his eyes. He found that he was no longer in his apartment. He was no longer anywhere in fact.

As far as he could see, a black void. Seemingly endless.

"So much pain. Too much to bear."

Garrus jumped. A strange voice had suddenly echoed throughout the void. He tried looking around to find where it came from but found nothing.

"Who said that? Who's there?" Garrus asked in a hostile tone.

"Do not be afraid. We mean you no harm."

A snort escaped the turian's mouth. How many times had he heard that line before people started shooting at him? Garrus noticed he had a sidearm attached to his hip. He immediately drew it.

Despite not being able to see, Garrus began moving forward slowly. He had kept his guard up in case of an ambush.

"You have encountered a subject of the Light. This is troubling. Worry not. Light has yet to claim you."

Garrus felt his heart skip a beat every time that voice would just appear. The voice itself sounded distorted, as if it were flanging like that of a turian's. It was unsettling. Vakarian was really hoping this was just the damage done to his brain by all the alcohol he used to drink.

"We have heard your cries. Your pleas for aid. We give our response. Accept our mercy."

"What makes you think I need help from the voices in my head?" Garrus questioned.

A light shone down from above, illuminating a single spot before the turian. There, floating in mid air, was… some sort of sheet. It looked old. Tattered. Garrus was left more confused than ever, but his curiosity compelled him to step closer.

Garrus was now inches away from the sheet. He reached out to touch it. It felt like old linen.

"What is this..?"

"We are your salvation."

Suddenly, the sheet flew right at Garrus and started wrapping itself around his head. Garrus' fight or flight response kicked in at that moment. He grabbed hold of the sheet wrapping itself around him and tried to pull it off him. The fabric however wouldn't budge. It was like it was possessed. No matter how much he tried to grip or how hard he tugged, the fabric's hold on him would not yield.

Little by little, Garrus started to feel his strength, his very will to try lessen. Within seconds did, his struggling stopped, arms went limp. All of his fear was replaced by some sort of dark entrancement.

Suddenly, Garrus began levitating off the ground. The sheet was now unwrapping from around the turian's head and was now draped over his entire body. Garrus remained perfectly still as he floated; vision obscured by the sheet and not noticing the countless others around him who were also draped in the same sheets as him.

Wearing the sheets as if they were… veils.

"We are your Witness."

Garrus woke from his slumber, his plates drenched in cold sweat. A ear piercing scream of unfiltered terror had erupted from within his throat. Garrus felt his heart racing at a million miles an hour and an unsettling feeling was arising in his gut. Literally rising. He felt like he would vomit.

Scrambling out of the bed, Garrus didn't even bother to reach for his prosthetic and ended up tumbling onto the floor. Regardless, he crawled his way to the bathroom, trying desperately to hold down what he had for dinner.

Finally, he reached the toilet. Garrus opened his mouth and the contents of his stomach came rushing back up into the bowl. The turian had his hands firmly gripping the sides of the bowl as he hurled.

After several minutes, Garrus finally felt his stomach calm down and he could now catch his breath.

"What… the absolute… hell..?"

Garrus flushed the toilet. The taste of vomit was still fresh in his mouth. He needed water to wash it out.

After cleaning himself up, Garrus headed downstairs to pour himself a glass. He felt groggy from such a rude awakening. Soon enough, he would be back in his bed, curled up in his blankety goodness.

Finally reaching the kitchen, water was poured into a tall glass. Garrus took a long sip. The awful taste finally leaving his mouth. Sweet relief. Now to head back to bed. Might as well take the glass with him.

He exited the kitchen and proceeded back up to the second floor. However, the second he walked into his bedroom, Garrus dropped his glass, fell to the floor, and let out a blood curdling scream of terror.