Chapter Text
The Normandy's hangar bay was always quiet, except when it wasn't. One moment uninhabited and still, the next flooding with arid atmosphere from planetside as the shuttle buzzed and whirred its way in. Even as the bay door closed and the shuttle powered down, its occupants created a new clamor of debriefing and unequipping. Commander Shepard removed her helmet and went over her mental checklist. Thane and Garrus, who had accompanied her in combat were approaching the lockers. Mordin had picked them up in the shuttle and was standing by in case he was needed.
"Thane, before we leave orbit, will you double check our communication lines with this colony?" she asked.
"Yes Commander," Thane replied dutifully, beginning to remove his own armor.
"Have EDI help. I want to make sure they know how to reach us if needed," Shepard added.
"Are we... sticking around long enough for them to contact us?" Garrus asked, stretching his neck and shoulders once out of the armor.
"Probably not long," Shepard replied. "I don't anticipate much more trouble..."
"Raid went well, then?" Mordin asked.
With the Collectors taken care of, Shepard and company had very little, almost zero, real assigned missions. Everyone had survived the suicide mission and performed well and Shepard had docked at the Citadel to give everyone a bit of R&R.
However, it wasn't long before it was clear that Shepard was restless. She'd decided to take the Normandy back out to the Terminus Systems and do what she could to continue improving life for the colonists out there. Some of the crew had stayed on the Citadel, feeling drawn to other pursuits, but many had stayed.
The Terminus Systems had no shortage of "busyness" for a crew as skilled as the Normandy team. It was usually gangs and slavers attempting to take advantage of newly forming areas when they were weak. Those portions of the colonies were usually easy prey, but the threat of being met with the infamous Commander Shepard was causing a lot of groups to think twice. Of course, they couldn't be everywhere, but word was spreading.
This latest mission had been a raid on a well-established Blood Pack base that had previously refused to relocate. They'd gone in with a long range ambush and then rushed in with mines and ripped the place apart.
"Exceptionally," Shepard replied to Mordin proudly. "I would be very surprised if any Blood Pack members are sticking around after that."
"Very good," Mordin approved with a nod.
"Garrus, let me try out the Viper with those mods next mission," Shepard said, nodding in Garrus's direction with a grin. "You were especially efficient today." The two of them, having similar skillsets, swapped models and mods frequently, experimenting with all kinds of combinations.
"I'll get it cleaned and in your locker, Shepard," Garrus replied cheerfully, then gave her a pointed look. "Are you headed to the med bay?" Shepard paused while putting the last of her gear away, tensing as if she were about to protest. She didn't look at Garrus, and Mordin looked between the two of them inquisitively.
"...yes," Shepard finally resigned with a sigh. She reached up and tugged at the bun her hair was in, letting her strands of blonde hair hang loose. She tousled them a bit, rubbing at the back of her head. "Come by later?" she asked the turian.
"Of course," he replied, his tone and expression now soft. "Have Thane escort you," he added. Shepard shrugged off his recommendation, but Thane was also headed that way anyway and gave an acknowledging nod to Garrus.
The relationship between Shepard and Garrus and its new levels of intimacy were no secret. They were fairly discreet, even after the Collector base, but it didn't matter, as many had recognized the affection in their eyes long before it was official. Occasionally they would be found in the lounge, sitting close with their heads together, but much more frequently one could pick up on the natural compatibility. They both valued the others opinions, respected each other, protected each other, and worked together seamlessly. It was clear to anyone who had spent time observing them, Shepard and Garrus were a match made in whatever paradise you believed in.
Shepard and Thane entered the elevator and Garrus retrieved the Viper and his maintenance tools, gesturing for Mordin to accompany him at one of the workstations.
"Was she injured?" Mordin asked after the elevator doors closed. "Thought I noticed irregular pupil activity. Head trauma?"
"I can almost guarantee it, and I'm not even a medic," Garrus grumbled, not looking up as he began to disassemble the sniper. "And for no good reason."
"You've expressed concerns about her being reckless. Again?" the salarian inquired.
"Yes."
"What happened?"
"We were just about to enter the compound. Multiple vorcha were bottlenecked in the entrance. I had an advantageous position and was sniping through their hall, around a corner ahead of her. I don't know why, but she decided to rush in before I had it cleared." Garrus's tone was getting sharper and his movements less delicate.
"I couldn't shoot past her so I had to hold fire. She was doing well taking them out, but we couldn't see very far in. When she didn't fall back again, I left my position to catch up to her. They couldn't touch her, so she just kept taking them down... She made the rookiest mistake in the book, Mordin. She ran out of clips!"
Mordin narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, but didn't yet speak, so Garrus continued, exasperated.
"She was using low capacity weapons this time anyway, but still! Shepard doesn't lose awareness like that."
"How did she get injured?"
"Another mistake," Garrus grumbled, now cleaning out the individual parts of the sniper. "She threw out an incinerate to create space as she started to fall back. The third and fourth vorcha in line were pyros. I could see the pyro packs clearly, Mordin. They weren't firing because of the two vorcha in front of them, but Shepard had no reason to miss that. In fact, it was almost like she saw it and fired the incinerate anyway..."
"Caught in the blast?"
"It tunneled toward both of us. She was thrown back into me and we both fell backwards, but the back of her helmet connected hard with one of the support pillars of the entrance." Garrus's hands suddenly became unsteady, and he set down the tools, leaning on the workstation and taking a deep breath. "Her helmet cracked. She lost consciousness. I carried her back to cover and had to wait for her to come to while Thane kept the numbers down. I convinced her to let us take point for the rest of the assault." He rubbed the back of his neck, fighting back his anxiousness, concern, and frustration.
"It's getting worse," Mordin muttered, for once, short on words.
Garrus just nodded. He knew Shepard was taking more risks and being more careless. Obviously the Collector base assault had a high amount of risk, but it was calculated, necessary, and the stakes high enough to warrant it. The missions since then could easily be done methodically and smartly, but for whatever reason, each one had some kind of mishap. Previously it was simply having less than ideal weapons equipped, staying out of cover too long, or leaving her team's eye sights... nothing a little medigel couldn't patch up. This time was different.
Tali, Thane, Samara, Jacob, and Mordin had all noticed. At first Garrus had shrugged it off just as Shepard did. Things happen... Then he realized it was recurring and he went so far as to bring it up with Shepard, gently asking if she was getting enough sleep or feeling well. She insisted she was fine, but the other squad members were pushing Garrus to get more answers.
"What am I supposed to do, Mordin? How do I figure out what's throwing her off?" he asked after a long silence.
"The right questions. At the right time. Even then, she may deflect. A possibility... she may be struggling with her perspective of life," Mordin offered, crossing his arms and tapping at his chin. Garrus looked up, brow plates furrowing, and the salarian continued.
"All creatures wonder, 'what is the purpose of life?' Shepard was spaced. Lost her life. Brought back, but old life gone. Had to make new one. Being brought back from the dead alone could skew one's views." Mordin turned and began pacing, and Garrus began reassembling the rifle, listening intently but needing something to do with his hands.
"Gained lots of comrades. Lots of purpose. The fight against the Collectors was a war with great stakes, even if the Normandy was the only one fighting it. Now... more freedom. More flexibility. But less direction, less purpose. More volatility. Once again must find the purpose of life. Shepard is brilliant and wonderful and capable of being independent, but she is used to living her life under someone else's instruction, whether it be the Alliance, the Council, or the Illusive Man. It is where she thrives. With no one giving her instruction on a regular basis, she must make new decisions."
"She's not a mindless follower, Mordin," Garrus pointed out.
"No. You miss my point," Mordin scolded. "She is brilliant because she knows who and how to follow, while also being one of the greatest leaders who ever lived. What does her life look like without that dynamic? She doesn't yet know. This freedom is an opportunity for her to find out."
"So why does she put herself in dangerous situations?" Garrus asked, staring at Mordin.
"She must decide what her life gets to be like. Stretching the boundaries of life is a common, but unproductive tactic for many in the midst of a major life change or crisis."
"Crisis?" Garrus repeated, his mandibles flaring. "You think she's in a crisis? Isn't that a little strong?" Mordin shrugged, shaking his head.
"Not a mind reader. This is all speculation. She may feel undeserving of her second chance at life now that one of her main purposes is complete. Making choices for her life, for herself, is intimidating. Think of yourself, a turian, branching out from the traditional military roles so deeply entrenched in your culture," Mordin said, gesturing towards Garrus. "Was that not intimidating?"
"It was," Garrus acknowledged, beginning to understand. He put the last pieces of the rifle back together and stared down at it.
"As I said, speculation," Mordin continued. "The brain is a complex thing. She has began self-sabotaging for one reason or another. There are infinite possibilities, but these scenarios are probable from the most easily observed factors."
"I'll think about that and see if I can't get her to open up some more," Garrus said thoughtfully. Mordin nodded.
"Very well. Keep me informed. It is good for all of us to support her as much as possible at this time."
Mordin excused himself and Garrus went to go place the Viper in Shepard's locker, ready to go for their next encounter. He placed it down carefully, then noticed her helmet. He picked it up and began inspecting the large crack on the back. She would be stuck using other models until this one was replaced. He ran his fingers over the rift, something Mordin said sending him into a memory from their reprieve on the Citadel...
Much of the crew had gravitated to Requiem, a hotel that was not luxurious enough to give them shellshock, but definitely far outside of what they were used to. Rooms were well accommodated and there were many amenities such as a lounge, pool, gym, spa, etc.
Garrus had been about to book a modest room for himself, not wanting to presume anything about his relationship with Shepard at that point, but she stopped him at the last minute at the front desk.
"That won't be necessary," she had said, her expression a mix of a smirk and a grin, and her complexion turning pink. Garrus didn't need a second invitation.
The next morning he had ordered them both breakfast through room service and brought it to the bed before Shepard had even woken up. He had barely begun eating his own food when he suddenly realized her watching him, smiling.
"You know, I didn't think it was possible to be so content that I would fall asleep and wake up smiling," Shepard had remarked, rolling onto her back and stretching.
"There was a time I never thought I'd be having breakfast in bed with Commander Shepard," Garrus replied, his subharmonics rumbling like a purr in his chest. As Shepard sat up he passed her the tray of human food. "I just guessed what you might like," he admitted. "I'm not even sure what some of that is, but it's not space food, so that's good, right?"
"Absolutely," Shepard said enthusiastically. "You did good."
They ate in a comfortable silence for a while, then Shepard stared at Garrus and giggled.
"What?" he asked, staring back.
"This is so... domestic," Shepard commented, appearing amused. "I know we're on vacation, but it feels like, aside from the scars, an outsider may not be able to tell we're soldiers anymore."
"It is a rather unusual setting for us to be in," Garrus agreed, looking around the room at all the soft colors and light. There were even real plants in the room.
"Do you ever think about life after war?" Shepard asked, her tone and expression suddenly more solemn. Garrus was beginning to realize what was on her mind.
"For turians, military and domestic life are both always major parts of our life. Our culture is militaristic even for those not directly enlisted. Humans view it differently, don't they?" he asked gently.
"Yes," Shepard nodded. "A lot of the time, when someone has a military career, they're seen as incapable of thriving domestically. That's why my parents only had one child. Those who have careers more favorable to families often never think of enlisting. It's a different world completely."
"Your whole life has been the Alliance. Do people view you as incapable of settling down?"
"Many have said so to my face. That I couldn't even if I wanted to." Shepard stuffed the last bite in her mouth, as if doing so defiantly. Garrus was thoughtful for a moment, finishing off a drink of water and then setting his tray on the bedside table.
"I think you could do anything you wanted to," he said quietly, but earnestly, looking down at his hands as he rubbed them together.
"I appreciate the confidence, but I don't know if I'll ever even get the chance to find out," Shepard admitted, setting her own tray aside as well and leaning back against the headboard. "This break right now is temporary. Sooner or later the Reapers will be here. I can't retire and have a family with that threat in the future, and who knows if I'll survive or what the galaxy will even look like after that war... Right now might be the most domestic my life ever gets to be."
Garrus felt his heart ache for her. Her time as a soldier didn't have to be a life sentence, but her personal war with the Reapers may as well be.
"Do you crave a domestic life?" he asked gently, studying her features.
"I honestly don't know," she replied. "I wonder sometimes. Daydream. I imagine what would've happened if I'd been brought back to life but lost my memory, or my skills. I'd be useless to Cerberus and probably just set loose to live my own life. Who knows what I would've done?"
"You still could," Garrus said, but anticipated her protest. He placed a hand overs hers and she began running her fingers along it as she talked.
"As long as the Reapers are out there and I'm fit for duty, there's no other options for me... and I promise, I don't detest that. I know I'm a powerful force. I'm happy to use my skills in defense of the galaxy. If I'm really, really lucky... maybe someday I'll get a chance to learn domestic skills, too."
Garrus was quiet and Shepard suddenly looked at him.
"Do you have dreams of settling down?" she asked. He thought for a moment, unsure how best to answer. Then he shifted his weight, scooting himself closer to her side.
"There's a part of me that knows how to take care of others that I think could do well in a family setting," he admitted casually. "It's part of what helps me take such good care of you."
"I'm aware of that," Shepard replied. "You help prep my gear and make sure I'm getting enough to sleep and eat... I guess maybe you've always been domestic and I'm just now realizing it," she said with a laugh. Garrus smiled, proud that his efforts were appreciated. He reached up and ran a hand through her hair, something he could never resist when it was loose like this.
"Would you leave the soldier life for domestic life? If you had to choose?" Shepard asked, her tone serious.
"My place is with you," Garrus replied without missing a beat. He leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers, and her cheeks grew pink at the certainty of his reply. "As long as you need me. Whether that's on the battlefield or for the rare domestic moments like this."
Shepard didn't reply, simply smiled and kissed his cheek. They didn't leave the room until much later in the day.
It had only been a few days before Shepard was eager to leave the Citadel, claiming she couldn't sit around waiting for something useful to do to come along, she needed to go find it. That had been months ago.
Now, in the armory, Garrus found a different helmet model he knew Shepard had used frequently and put it in her locker. He took the cracked one with him so he could reference the model number when he placed an order with requisitions, and made his way to the elevator, determined to figure out a solution for his Commander, his partner, and his best friend.
*****
Up in the captain's cabin, Shepard was lying on her back on her couch, the lights dimmed and eyes closed. She'd already showered the mission off and now that she wasn't doing anything else, the pain in her head was much more noticeable. She hadn't realized before how loud the humming from her aquarium was...
She didn't know how much time had passed when she heard the door slide open.
"Garrus?" she asked, not moving.
"It's me, Shepard," the turian replied. He walked over and sat down on the couch near her head. "Did Chakwas give you a verdict?" he asked.
Shepard opened one eye to look at him, seeing the concern on his face that he was trying to be casual about. She scooted herself up and turned onto her side, resting her head on his leg and once again appreciating the uniqueness of turian fabrics. The texture was very unlike any human products.
"She believes it's a mild concussion. I'm to lay around for the next few days and then she recommends no missions for a week after that," she grumbled. "She'll be monitoring my condition."
"How are you feeling?" he asked, brushing back her hair gently.
"My head hurts pretty bad. She gave me some meds but said it's better if I wait for the first 24 hours to pass before taking any." Shepard closed her eyes again, relaxing under Garrus's touch.
"We've been rather active lately. Some downtime might be good for all of us," he commented.
"Am I working you too hard, big guy?" Shepard teased, smirking and looking at him with one open eye again. Garrus chuckled.
"You've kept me on my toes, as the human saying goes... but I promise I'm not burning out," he assured her. "Earlier today I was just thinking about when we took that time off on the Citadel before coming back out here."
"What about it?" Shepard asked curiously.
"Well, it's been a while, and it's true that we don't know how much unstructured time we'll have out here..." Garrus began, looking at her hair as it shifted to avoid meeting her eyes. "I was thinking it might be nice to spend more time seeing new places like that and treating ourselves to a bit of the cushy lifestyle while we still can. If you're on mandatory rest, isn't that a good opportunity? You seemed to like letting me spoil you last time..." He grinned at her now.
"You should know Chakwas said I can't do that kind of activity for the next few days either," Shepard said with a laugh.
"Well, after a few days then."
"Hmm..." Shepard wasn't convinced yet, but did smile as she thought of their last reprieve.
"Maybe we could visit Illium this time. Liara might have some good recommendations from when she spent time there," Garrus added hopefully.
"Alright, alright," Shepard resigned with a smile. "We'll stay here for a few days while I'm stuck in bed and make sure we don't hear anything from the colonies. After that, we'll take some shore leave on Illium." She reached up and patted the side of his face, as if congratulating him on persuading her. Garrus chuckled, twitching his mandibles in reflex.
After a moment of comfortable silence, he asked, "Would you like me to let you get some rest?"
"You know I sleep better when you're here," Shepard replied softly, resting her hand on his leg under her head.
"Mmm. I didn't want to presume," Garrus explained. Shepard snickered.
"You tend to hold back like that a lot. I think it's safe for you to start presuming," she said. Garrus paused for a moment, considering her words.
"...well, alright then. I'll keep that in mind."