Four months passed quickly, though it had felt like an eternity.

Slow movements followed tentative decisions.

General Victus had immediately set to work to get the approval to station on Menae. It had been extraordinarily complicated to convince the Elders to allow the inquiry. They had denied it twice before they were pushed to accept the third attempt.

It had all been back door politics that Garrus found disturbing.

The very real threat of the end of everything they knew, and the Convocation was all about money and leverage.

Garrus wished he could claim to be the one to have moved these mountains. He would be the first one to admit that he depended entirely on his family. He had soldiered first, secured second, and followed devotedly in the shadow of the Normandy's Commander for too long now. The fear that Omega instilled in him about leading any type of – was raw. It licked at him like a whip every time he made headway.

He tried to ignore it.

Though he could feel the doubt inching into every single decision he made. Coil around any idea. Slink into the laid-out plans, seemingly to linger there – ready to strike them down in failure.

In the long run, it had been the Vakarian name that was the true hero. The power wielded simply being born into the very line that had founded the city, was unmatched. Castis had explained to him that the very notion of the Vakarians removing support on key funded constitutions could sway the vote.

When he had suggested Castis go and remove the Vakarian support in the SLAE-34, his father had looked at him like he had lost his mind. The Scientific Liaison Association of Elders, sector 34 was Palaven's largest national medical research base of operations. It also had been founded by his mother. It was completely funded by the Cipritine clans and had produced invaluable cures for ailments that had plagued the Turian brood since their rise from the muck of non-existence.

The Vakarian donations and interest-bearing accounts secured nearly half of the research costs and salaries of those researchers.

Castis had almost refused him. It was, after all, his late wife's life's work.

In the end, though, the Reaper's won in his father's internal struggle.

They took the decision to the Convocation and Garrus he had seen the sway visibly shifting amongst the gathered Elders. Like a small wave of fear and apprehensiveness and resignation.

Not only had they finally agreed to allow a military construct to begin on Menae, but they also instituted the Hierarchy funding to carry the burden. One small Task Force turned into an entire platoon, fleet and ground grunts to accompany General Victus to the moon.

That win, coupled with the supplies from Omega and the strategist known as Adrien Victus had morphed paper plans into tangible assets.

Within weeks, Garrus found himself standing on that very moon, looking down at a power ranged echo device that pinged from the newly set up communication channels that had been deployed last month. They surrounded the empty space between Palaven and the distant colonies. He watched as the screen blinked with no blimps and let out a heavy sigh.

"You seem upset that there is nothing."

He looked up to see Victus walking up to him, Garrus shook his head as he looked back down at the stream of data that scrolled on the left side of the monitor. "It's not that," his left mandible shivered, "Maybe it is," he lifted he gaze, but not his chin, to look at Victus, "I know that our best hope is that it never happens. That Shepard and I and the Normandy had been wrong, or maybe we did something worthy enough to stop whatever is about to happen – but..."

"The waiting."

He nodded, letting out a breath, "Yes. It is destroying my nerves."

Victus nodded, "It is the calm before the storm, you and I know that this...that what the Reapers will do..." He turned his head and looked up into the sky and Garrus followed his gaze to land on Palaven, "Its world stopping."

"You ever think we are wasting time?"

"What would your Shepard think about that question?" Victus cut out into the night, his attention still on their homeworld.

Garrus smirked, "She would say something wise and sensible and have me rethinking my entire way of viewing the situation in about six minutes."

"Six whole minutes?" He scoffed, "Amateur."

"She does alright."

Victus looked at him, "I remember when you were a new cadet, always asking questions, always demanding to know the answer to 'why'. It was unbecoming of someone so young."

Garrus did not give anything to the conversation. He both did not want to talk onthe past, and desperately felt like he should.

"I immediately knew that that brain of yours would cause you to be..."

"To be?" Garrus inquired curiously, watching as the turian before him seemed to weigh out his thoughts.

Victus shrugged, "Doubtful."

Garrus nodded, "Far be it we doubt the great Hierarchy."

And they both knew the truth of it. In their society the order was given, and the order was given. There was no questioning. Sure, one could do the order in the manner that needed to be done, but the decision that came from the head would be made by the hands. Simple as that.

The hands had no rational needs.

When someone like Garrus came along and asked questions that they were not supposed to ask, it disrupted the balance. It caused ripples. It made their unit hesitate. Turians could not afford to hesitate.

"Criminal," Victus would comment.

"We should talk," Garrus found himself saying and then grimaced at the way it had popped out. Smooth, Vakarian .Wrong time. Wrong place. Or perhaps it was the exact right moment. The perfect place – on this moon – so far away from the memories of where they had come from. Where they may never return to. "I..." he sighed and moved away from the equipment and came to stand in front of Victus, "I think, given the circumstances, we should talk."

Victus glared at him. "The only reason you feel the need to speak with me is because you feel like the end of the world is nigh."

Garrus did not disagree.

"I feel a little insulted," the General would admit, "But I am glad you want to talk."

"I don't," Garrus deadpanned. "You deserve the conversation though."

"Before the end of all things?"

"That and, simply, because you do."

"Here?" Victus motioned to the area around them. The base was slowly taking shape. He had to admit that the platoon under Victus' command was impressive. He had been serving long enough to have the power to hand pick those under his command and he had done well.

Garrus mentally chuckled at the Victus' question seemingly mirroring his own thoughts. He shrugged, "I have nowhere else to be."

"My tent," the General offered.

He dipped his head, "Lead the way."

He honestly did not know why he was so calm about this. It made no fucking sense. For years, if he let himself think about what had happened – he would freeze . A part of his brain would feel as if it had stopped functioning. Even the memories, the images would seem to flutter and die inside his mind's eyes. As if it was protecting itself.

He had only been able to speak about what had happened in his youth to two people. One was dead, the other was star systems away, a prisoner.

Only one person, however, had seen Garrus in those chains.

Victus held open the flap to the tent and Garrus ducked to enter. There was a cot, a chair and a desk. Nothing else. It screamed Turian efficiency. He decided on the chair and moved to it – settling himself down as Victus remained standing in the space between him and the door.

"I have wanted to discuss..." Victus started, then frowned at his own words before he sighed and tried again, "Just because this is happening, does not mean you have to speak on anything, Garrus. Surely you must know that I understand your reservations. I understand your need to forget about what happened."

"I have not, nor will I ever be able to forget, Adrien."

At that, the General's mandibles slapped audibly against his cheeks, and he looked sharply away from Garrus, "Nor will I."

"Truth is," he decided to get this over with, "The mission was going to go sideways. It was bad intel from the get-go; both you and I knew that going into it. I was just too stubborn to admit that I needed more and you -" he shook his head, "-were a solider then."

"I am a soldier now."

"Different, I'd say."

"Yes well," Victus snapped, "You were not the only one changed that day."

Garrus's blue gaze slid over the profile of the turian standing before him, as if he was waiting for permission to sit in his own tent. Garrus' gaze dipped to the well-made turian metal military suit that embraced the General. It was not the stereotypical blue and gunmetal, it was dark. Black and red and customized to blend into the background. He thought it amusing that a person like Victus wanted so badly to go unnoticed, when he was just as attention grabbing as Shepard.

The turian took up the entire space.

"Cylik was dead before the two of us were captured, you know?"

Victus did not move, he did not answer.

"I thought they had been joking, trying to get a reaction from Adonitis," he paused for a hair's breadth of a second letting the names of the fallen turian settle into the small space with them. "I hate to say that it was working, but we both knew how the kid was."

"I was bleeding out, the bullet had taken my back, I didn't know until later the full damage. It made me immobile, which is all I knew at the time. Not that I would have been able to move – they had us both in chains before I had regained consciousness." Garrus frowned, "He was right in front of me, chained to that wall. The same one that you blew up. He was dead by the time you got there, but it had taken a while."

"He was?"

"Yes," Garrus watched Victus' posture sag, he finally looked towards Garrus and then took two steps to sit down on the cot. He gave a small nod for Garrus to continue, "They healed me enough to keep me alive."

The men...no... the organization that had captured them, did not seem to care about what species they had tied to their walls. There had been the unmistakable scent of death and the dying within the walls there and he had known – absolutely and resolutely – that he would join with them. He had actually come to peace with it. Funny thing, being at peace with death.

The calm one felt.

He wished he were more articulate to be able to describe that kind of calm.

But he did not.

He failed in so many things, he realized. Had always been a little less able to articulate, "I watched as they tore him apart, bit by bit, Adrien. They injected him with so many things. Made me watch. Sniper's folly was what the taunted. Always settled off the battlefield, always just out of reach. The one that was supposed to protect them. To keep them safe. I failed both of them on that planet."

"Garrus..."

He raised his hand, physically silencing Victus with an outturned palm, "I failed them, you failed them, but more importantly we were also led to that failure . I am not so lost in what had happened to us there that I did not see the trap that our government had decided to be an acceptable and strategic move. Three grunts lost to bring down a regime that had been tainting our traffic ways and endangering our colonies – but a small price to pay."

He thought of Cylik and how she had been so very turian that he had actually wanted to be more like her. She seemed to just know what to say, what to do, how to act. Solona reminded him of Cylik. The ease of understanding why things were the way things were. They never needed to question anything. They were not stupid, no, but they were dutiful. Proper. He had no doubt in his mind that if Cylik knew that it was all a trap, she would have done it anyway. She wouldn't have changed a thing. Even with her mate on the squad. She would have followed orders and done what was expected of her.

Adonitis had taught Garrus that questioning things was normal . He also believed that one had to earn the right to question. He was smart, funny and he was probably the best person to have in your corner.

"They were strong," Garrus sighed. "... better Turians than I."

"Please," Victus would almost whisper, "Please stop that."

"I don't say it to get pity or for you to feel sorry for me," he leaned back in his seat, "I say it because I believe it. We both know of Cylik's servitude." Garrus paused, hoping that her death had been quick. Her body had been left in the room with them, naked and sprawled out for the both of them to see. Adonitis had mewled, his subvocals would have shattered glass. It had been what woke Garrus up. "I watched him. I saw the fire in his eyes until the very end. I wished I could trade places with him. To see her there, dead. I firmly believe that everything after that he simply accepted. The pain they had inflicted on him was unbearable to watch. Acid, electricity, the beatings... the cutting. That...that was the part that killed him. They took him apart plate by plate."

"They did the same to you."

"I was too far gone to know that," Garrus admitted, and he truly meant it. They had known his name. His fucking name . The very name Adonitis had screamed. He was money. He was leverage. He was a fucking ticket to riches. They had pumped him full of poisons to keep him incapacitated.

"You were there for nearly a week, Vakarian, you survived that."

"Funny," he would say softly, his good mandible slack, "Shepard says the same thing. When I told her about it. She simply called me a survivor. A survivor had always seemed like such a good thing when I was little. Now? It just means you walk in the ashes of those that have died."

"I tried to get to you."

"I know."

"They made us wait."

"I know."

"The day to attack was planned eight days after your mission's deployment."

Garrus nodded, "And yet you were there on day six."

Victus swallowed audibly, "I should have come sooner."

"I don't blame you for what happened."

"You must ," he suddenly snarled. "I knew that it was a trap – I knew -"

Garrus' eyes narrowed, "Knowing and feeling like something is a trap are vastly different concepts. You had no way of proving that it was, and you cannot blame yourself for following orders. We are Turian, Victus."

"I..." the General's subvocals shuddered with regret.

"They died, Adrien, I didn't."

"In a way, what my inaction caused is worse."

"Death is by far the worst thing that happened to that unit," Garrus stated firmly.

He knew that Victus would disagree. Most Turians would. He blinked as a sudden realization hit him like a balm to a burn. "I told you a long time ago, I am not a very good Turian." He gave a gentle chirp of assurance, "Maybe if I were a better one and If I were to be interested in taking that mantel, I would think otherwise."

Victus recoiled, sitting straight, "You are the only heir to the Vakarian line, Garrus, it is your duty ."

Garrus shook his head, "I stopped caring about that somewhere along the way, it seems."

"Garrus, you...they took your bloodline."

Garrus sighed, "They injected me with a poison, they did nothing to my bloodline. Solana can bear her own."

"It is not the same."

"No, but it is the truth ." Garrus said with conviction and watched as Victus contemplated what he was saying. What more was he supposed to say? They had made him inept. Unable to give seed that would take hold. What was it that the humans called it? Infertility? In the aftermath it had made him feel like a complete failure.

It had broken him.

It had devastated his mother.

It had destroyed his father.

It had changed the entire trajectory of his life.

That one mission.

That one assignment.

That one false lead.

Did he care though? He frowned. He had been so angry with Liara when she had witnessed his torture. When he had seen the pity and sorrow in her eyes. The same pity that Victus had reeked of when he had rescued him. Pity and sorrow and disgust. The younger Garrus had taken the elder Turian's emotions at point value. He had heard them in his subvocals and it had felt like a slap in the face.

After taking a rocket to the face, honestly, it all seems so pointless.

Garrus' gaze shifted to the small crack in the tent's door, and he looked out to see the faint lines of Palaven.

In all of this – it all seemed so trivial . He blinked as his mind's eyes brought forth images of Monteague and then Shepard. Neither one of them someone that this would have even mattered. Neither of them even the right species for it to matter. Spirits . How long had he carried this? How long had he avoided this? How long had he allowed it to curdle his insides and blanket him in shame? How long had he let it fester between his father and himself?

Castis' words spoken ages ago echoed through his mind, "We will make you a proper Turian again, Garrus, you have my word."

It had gutted him where it should have been comforting.

But it didn't even matter. Did it?

He felt utterly foolish all of a sudden.

After everything he had been through in the past four years, he had let this one thing tie him down with contempt. He had avoided his homeworld, he had left the Heirarchy, he had put distance between him and his family. He had...he had avoided them all for years. Fucking years. His mother had died. And he had refused to set foot in that house.

All for what?

His blue gaze lit alight when he looked at Victus and saw the sadness that sat in his old friend's eyes. "I blamed you then," Garrus stood and moved to sit beside him, the cot creaking underneath their combined weight. "I hated you," he admitted softly, "and Saira...Tarquin...it was salt in a wound too fresh for me to understand how to navigate through."

Victus' mandibles spread outward and shuttered downward as he took in a quick breath. His plates furrowed, a frown heavy on his features.

"I left you."

Victus nodded.

"I am sorry, Adrien."

After a long moment. One where Garrus watched the turian beside him sort through an internal struggle. The normally schooled features to perfect indifference, open and raw. "Did you say you loved me because you like the way it sounded?"

Of all the things he could have said, Garrus had not expected him to say that. They stared at one another; Victus' pale gaze heavy in something so close to heartbreak that Garrus' subvocals flared to life. They soothed outward, reaching, trying to comfort him.

"..."

"You know how my family is." Victus said matter-of-factly.

And Garrus did know. The Victus line was notorious. They were military through and through, but they were not one of affection. His own family seemed soft in comparison. There were many clanless members of the Victus clan due to banishment or failure. Adrien had been one fledgling of seven that was still allowed to be on Palaven. The others had been either killed in action or were living barefaced somewhere in the galaxy.

"I would have saved you if I could have," Adrien repeated, "I just...couldn't then."

"No," Garrus agreed, "You couldn't."

"You left."

"I had to." Garrus realized. "I think I had to leave, Adrien, I had to meet her. I..."

"Your path," Victus sighed out. "Who can argue with the Spirits' decisions?"

"I have fought pretty hard against their desicions." Garrus would quip and he felt a slight jolt of humor flare through the atmosphere around them. "Could have just set me on a nice little path with pretty flowers and puppies."

"Puppies?"

"Furry little things on Earth..." Garrus looked away from Victus and frowned. The thought of Earth making him remember just how serious everything was and just why he had decided to have this conversation with Victus.

"You'll see her again."

"Mm," Garrus had his doubts. "Not if they keep her caged."

"Rumor has it that the Commander wouldn't even let death stop her," Victus angled his face towards him, "Have faith in her."

Garrus chuckled softly, "She is the one thing I believe in resolutely."

They sat in silence for a moment, just looking at one another before Garrus added, "I do, you know?"

The General's brow plates lifted then slammed down, "I know very little about love," his mouth plates twitched, "...the one thing I do know is it comes in many forms."

He nodded in agreement, "True, but – I never stopped, I just had to...process things."

Adrien smirked then, full and it made him look far younger, "You only ever told me when you were drunk, so I'll just have to take it on faith." He gave a one shoulder shrug, "Though I suppose your faith in Shepard is similar to the faith I have in you." Victus blanched then and quickly added, "Minus the whole – horizontal stress relief."

Garrus laughed outright at that, "I probably should have warned you that some of those videos were a bit...erm...personal."

Victus glared, "You knew, you just wanted to fuck with me."

He didn't deny it, but it actually had not been his intention, "No, no, I – I left them in there for Dad and Sol too."

"What?!"

The smirk on his features spread even further, "I told them they needed to see everything, and I felt that was important too."

And he did too. There was not Vakarian without Shepard. It was something that the universe should know.

"I'm a little curious," Victus said then, leaning back casually on the cot, catching himself on his elbow behind Garrus, he had to shift to an angle to look be able to see him. "Drells?"

"Drells?"

"You...you have..."

"Oh," Garrus would have blushed had he been able, he reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, "Just one, and," he frowned, his subvocals fluttering out with regret and sadness, "Just the once."

Victus watched him and nodded, seeming to come to some silent understanding, "You don't have to talk about it. I was just curious. I apologize, they are seldom seen near our systems."

"Funny enough," Garrus said, "They would do well here. They need the heat, the arid air would do wonders for them. They are loyal though, spiritual, forgiving – patient," he smiled to himself as he thought of both Monteague and Thane. "Deadly."

"You are talking about yours or the assassin?"

"Both," he answered truthfully. "Far more dangerous than I."

"Good thing then," Victus supplied, "To have them on our side, eh?"

"Whose side would they be on? The Reapers?" He scoffed. "Wait..." he shuddered, "That would be far scarier if it were true."

Victus chuckled, "Indeed."

And then he was talking to his friend. His brother. Adrien Victus had not only been his Commander, but he had been an older brother to him. He had helped him navigate the way of their military from the moment he had been inducted. They had served for years together, eventually the older turian having received command and Garrus had been stationed with him.

They had been friends first, family easily after that.

Adrien had admitted this when they had celebrated his promotion to Commander. The two of them sharing a sought-after blend of quarian wine. Garrus had told him he had felt the same and in a slight drunken slip of the tongue had had told him that he loved him. He had no brothers, he had said, and he would be honored to call Adrien one. Adrien had smiled wide, genuine and unburdened and declared himself just that. Garrus had stood with him when he was bound to his wife and had things gone the way they hadnt, Garrus would have vowed himself protector of their son, but – he had left before the little one was born.

He had taken Adrien's news of fatherhood badly. It was like a slight. A mocking gesture. It was not. Garrus knew, had known, but rationality does not blend well with emotions. Garrus, at the time, was all emotion. His father was out for blood, literally, trying everything to fix the "tragedy" it was that had happened to him. His mother was just beginning to have her episodes and Sol was just as bold and brash as ever. She had simply told him to get over it.

He probably should have listened to her a little more closely.

Though, he couldn't quite come to regret any of it, now, could he?

It had led him to the Citadel. He had met one of the first people who had truly started teaching him the most important lessons of his life. Bailey, then Shepard, Wrex, Tali, Liara, Joker, Kaidan...he had grown to be more than just a Turian. He had grown to be a part of a crew that uncovered something terrifying. He had grown to truly understand what being a friend meant. He had been taught the true meaning of loss.

And it spiralled him directly into his first lover's hands. Where he learned how to love and how to be loved. Who taught him to have grace for himself just as he did for others.

It had led him to his son.

His throat felt thick as he told Adrien about Krul. He spoke about his beautiful face and his beautiful voice, the way he sounded when he laughed, the way he snored, the talent he had in beating back the bastards of Omega. The gentle way he helped Melenis and Meirin and the intelligence he had at such a young age. Able to keep up and even educated Vortash and Erash all the while being funny and witty and far too much of a prankster than even Sensat and his husband.

Garrus gushed about the hyax soup he had made him for a present and the way the kid made him feel normal for having episodes that were beyond his control. Garrus had been so unfamiliar with PTSD and how it could be so – ingrained in the day to day. That pivotal moment of realization replaying in his mind:

"I was a bit lost in embarrassment after what happened before dinner, hurting Monteague, truthfully. It had nothing to do with you." "Oh," Krul nodded, "The episode? That happens to people like us, Garrus," he told him resolutely, as if it was the most common knowledge he had, "The things we've seen, the things we've had to do," he trailed off and shrugged, "No reason to be embarrassed. We get it."

Adrien nodded, and then asked gently, "He was buried here, was he not?"

Garrus nodded, "In our family's tomb, as he should."

"I am s -" he started, but the sound of approaching footsteps had Victus pushing himself up off his elbow and both of them turning their attention to the tent's flap as a three taloned hand clasped the cloth and then Cadet Shinx poked her head in.

"Apologies, General Victus," she stepped back, holding the flap open, a silent demand for them to join her outside of the small tent. Victus rose first, stepping out to join her.

"What is it, Shinx?"

"I -" she looked up to him, then towards Garrus as he emerged from the tent to stand next to Victus. "It's just..." she shook her head, and Garrus frowned at the fact that she hadn't let go of the tent's flap. In fact, her hand seemed to be shaking and clinging to it like a lifeline. "I was told to tell you that we received word that Taetrus has sent distress calls outward to our comm grids. They are under attack." She finally let go of the tent's door as Victus started to walk towards the main holding, she darted after him, "It's not the only missive," she eyed him, "Khar'shan is dark. No communication has been in or out for a few hours now. We didn't think anything of it because it's...well it's the Batarians and they are known to be – iffy."

"Completely dark?" Garrus asked as the three of them made it to the communications link, "When was the first distress call from Taetrus?"

"Fifteen minutes ago, we got it right before the news on Earth."

The news on Earth.

Garrus' blue gaze drifted upwards to Palaven and then fell to catch Victus' gaze as the General asked, "What is that news?"

"It's under attack, General Victus," Shinx answered.

Author's Note:

Hey ya'll,

I know this was a long chapter full of ...talking, but it was necessary. Garrus has been struggling with this since the beginning. It's one of the reasons he's always been a bit stiff (other than being Turian heh) and it was what Liara saw when she mind-melded with him. It was just a little brain baby that I wanted to complete and give substance to Garrus and Victus. I also feel like the Garrus in ME3 is a LOT lighter than the previous two games. As if he had a bit of an epiphany in the in-between and honestly, I just wanted my version of Garrus to heal some old wounds.

Side note: I LOVE Adrien Victus and if I wasn't writing this story in CANON timeline, that turian would ride with us the rest of the way.

Anyway,
The start of Mass Effect 3 is around the corner! Not too far out will our knight-with-red-fringe come back!

Thank you all for reading and I sincerely hope I do not disappoint ya'll.

-C