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How many years had it been? There was a note in her email from Hackett asking her to appear at the anniversary marking the defeat of the Reapers. She didn't particularly want to go. She was tired of being paraded around in front of all those crowds, constantly being called a hero. She didn't deserve it. All she'd done was make a choice and shoot a gun at a critical junction box. The thousands and millions who'd sacrificed their lives to put her in that place were the heroes, not her. Then there were the countless millions more who were rebuilding the galaxy.
And then she'd gone and survived the impossible. Damn Cerberus. Miranda had built better than she'd realized. Titanium impregnated bones, heavy skin weave, nanotech coursing through her bloodstream, cybernetic enhancements in practically every organ of her body. It had been enough to keep her from bleeding out until someone found her.
But not enough to keep her whole. The knee brace and limp were permanent, as were the new scars on her chest and abdomen, the fractured vertebrae that kept her in a wheelchair for nearly a year, and the loss of hearing in her left ear. The emotional losses were worse, though. Tali - suicide when the quarians refused to stop fighting and the geth destroyed them in self-defense. Legion - sacrificing himself to upload the code for individuality to his brethren. Mordin - staying in a doomed tower to save the krogan race from extinction. Anderson - bleeding out from a gunshot she inflicted on him. Thane - stabbed while saving the salarian Councilor.
Every day she missed him. Every day the hole in her heart ate at her. At first, she'd wanted to help, to do anything to keep her mind busy, but her wounds were too severe. She couldn't walk, and the reconstruction surgeries had been numerous and painful. She'd tried to talk them out of it, but apparently, the cosmetic damage was so bad no one wanted to look at her. They'd refused her a mirror for over six months.
After that, they'd slotted her into the position of hero ex-officio. They'd wheel her out on stage, expect her to say something inspirational, then wheel her back to her tiny apartment. When she wanted to do something to help, they'd say it was too dangerous in her state, or she couldn't do it in her wheelchair. She'd scoffed. Did they not realize who they were talking to? Dangerous?
Dangerous was giving her too much time to brood. And that's what happened. Her former crew, the ones who survived, had been called back to service. Kaidan was a Spectre now. She still didn't think he really deserved it, but she wasn't cruel enough to tell him that to his face. He'd stand or fall on his own. He was out of her life now. Vega came by every couple weeks with a bottle of tequila. It had to have been expensive, but somehow he managed it, at least for a couple months, then he got transferred off-world. An N7 was in high demand. Allers wanted to do an interview, but Shepard had cut her off without saying a word. She ended up spending her days sitting in the wheelchair, looking out her first floor window at the people passing by, busy with their lives while she wondered what had happened to hers.
When Garrus found her seven months later, he had been dismayed at her appearance. Through his eyes, she saw how she'd let herself go. She was wasting away, not bothering with the exercises they'd given her, some days finding even the effort of showering and eating to be too much bother. After all, the home medical aide only came by once a week - there were a lot of injured service members now.
Against her protests, he'd dragged her into the shower, shoved her onto the floor and turned the water on, leaving her there yelling curses and insults. He came back, threw a towel in her face and told her to drag her sorry ass into the kitchen. He'd prepared her lunch, and when she told him she didn't want to eat, they'd had a bitter yelling match. He'd threatened to feed her like a recalcitrant child if she was going to act like one, and to her utter humiliation, he'd carried through with it.
When he returned to duty, he brought her with him, telling the turian Hierarchy to fuck off when they protested that his posting didn't have room for family. He paid for a crate of Alliance MRE's and gave her the bed while he took the couch. They spent months furious with each other, two big egos in a tiny apartment. She wasn't sure which was worse - the yelling at dinner when he came home, or the crying at night when she missed Thane and it was Garrus who held her tight.
He took away her wheelchair, forcing her to crawl around the tiny apartment. It was one more thing to yell about, but in a month, she was walking with the help of two canes. A month after that, she was down to one cane.
Slowly she gained weight and muscle tone. The yelling turned to sullen silence, then gradual inquiries about the state of affairs beyond the front door of their apartment. When he caught her sighting along his Carnifax pistol, he dragged her along to his next staff meeting. She sat in the back, politely and pointedly ignored by the turians in the room. The two humans stared at her curiously, but never got up the gumption to talk to her. Apparently, Garrus' new rank gave him a lot of pull in the Hierarchy.
Each new thing she heard in the meeting only kindled more questions about what was going on. That night, she turned on the news feed for the first time and sat entranced by the changes. When Garrus handed her yet another MRE for dinner, she didn't yell at him but ate quietly, still watching the news.
That was their new pattern for the next month. They started to discuss the staff meeting issues over dinner, and she was startled to hear Garrus state one of her opinions at the next meeting. One day, he actually turned to her as she sat in the furthest back corner and asked her a direct question. Every head in the room turned, leaving her stunned and stumbling as she tried to formulate an answer. It was something they had discussed at length the night before, and after a couple of hesitant starts, she managed to say something that resembled her argument from last night.
Three more months passed. One morning, she came to the staff meeting, trailing Garrus as usual, but instead of letting her sit in the back, he put his hand on her back and steered her to a seat at the table. She spent the whole meeting trying not to look any of the turians in the eye, embarrassed in a way she couldn't explain. It took another month before she offered an opinion without being called on first.
Her life was starting to resemble...well, a life again. She listened, she asked questions, she offered opinions, and she was listened to. One day, she opened her email for the first time since the war ended. She immediately deleted the thousand or so messages up until two days ago. She was left with an automated message from her home medical aide service and a rather generic note from Vega that sounded like he'd written the same thing a hundred times, checking up on her. He probably had, but she wasn't going through her deleted messages to check. She didn't even realize she was smiling as she typed out a terse response that she'd moved to Palaven with Garrus.
The days were almost pleasant. The nights never were. Some nights she managed to wake up before she started screaming or crying and brought Garrus into the room. Many more nights she woke up with his arms cradling her, his flanging voice crooning reassurances in her ear.
She hated it. She hated the nightmares that never left her alone, that left her drained in the morning, the way that Garrus moved so slowly in the morning, needing three or four cups of turian kefar to get going because she constantly interrupted his sleep.
One night, she'd had enough. Tears were running down her cheeks. She felt cursed with Thane's perfect memory as she'd dreamed of his death again. Why couldn't she dream of the happy times? Those too few precious nights where they'd held each other safe, climbing to ecstasy together, drifting into sleep in each other's arms. Feeling like a traitor, she gave in to her loneliness. "Please stay," she whispered, and an entirely different set of arms folded around her. Different but just as protective. With him at her back, the nightmares stayed away the rest of the night.
The morning brought embarrassment on his part as Garrus tried to disentangle himself from a dexterous human grip that mistook him for someone else in her early morning fog. For her part, she sat on the bed after he left and cried for hours.
That night, he came in to soothe her nightmares but went back to the couch. Two hours later both the nightmares and Garrus were back in her bed. This time, Garrus stayed and made sure there was a blanket between them.
So it progressed. Two steps forward, one step back. Her bed became their bed. The blanket disappeared, then came back doubled. She found herself with an office one day and an assignment from Garrus. Look over turian special forces training protocols and see what she'd suggest adding or changing based on human N7 training. Later there was an assignment to a team preparing a joint training exercise between humans and turians. It was the first time she'd attended a meeting without Garrus, and it was simultaneously heady, scary, and annoying.
One night Garrus came home with something precious: a levo chocolate cake. It was her birthday. She'd forgotten. She ate it all and got a stomach ache.
A week later Garrus had an announcement to make. They were going to Earth. Hackett had written, asking him to bring her. She didn't want to go. They yelled again, but in the end, they went to Earth. By the time of the ceremony, she had managed to master walking without the cane and come up with an inspiring speech, about how life cannot be defeated. It will rise again from the ashes, seedlings of hope growing into strong, diverse communities that support each other. Through it all, Garrus never left her side, providing physical support when she ached and missed her cane, listening to her speech, giving suggestions. Vega and Kaidan were there. Vega hugged her and called her Lola. Kaidan shook her hand.
That night she cried again, but this time it was gentler. Enough time had passed to soften the harshness of grief and loss into something that could be born without breaking, that let her remember the good things before the bad.
The next morning there was a parade and she got to ride in the front. People were screaming and waving and cheering. She waved back, and when she smiled, it was genuine. They were alive. So many people were still alive. Each of them could go on about the messy business of living. It didn't matter if they were bankers or construction workers, grannies or babes. It didn't matter what choices they made, only that they were free to make them. Life would go on. Garrus sat beside her and held her hand.
Their first night back on Palaven, Garrus handed her a datapad. He looked serious. And worried. "It's a message to you from Thane. He asked me to give it to you when I thought the time was right."
The color drained from her face and she handled it as if it were a live grenade. She didn't even notice that he had left the apartment.
He had recorded this while she was being detained on Earth. His breathing was more ragged than it had been on the Normandy, and he had to pause to cough.
"Siha. By the time you get this, I will have gone to the ocean. I hope and pray that you yet live, that you survived and triumphed over the Reapers. Knowing you, I cannot imagine that you will fail.
"I know what you face - the long loneliness, and I'm sorry. I am saddened more than words will ever convey that I had to leave you so soon."
He paused to gather himself. "Siha, I will not say do not grieve for me. I know only too well what it is like to lose someone who is the other half of yourself. And yet, there is always hope. You brought me back to life, gave me hope again. It is possible to love twice in a lifetime. You taught me that. That is what I'm asking you to do. Grieve and let go. Live the rest of your life the same way you did when I knew you. Live strongly. Love fiercely. And when it is your time to come to the ocean, I will be here, waiting for you. Do not rush. Live enough for both of us. I love you with all my being, my precious siha."
Tears flowed down her cheeks to fall on his image. Already her memories had faded. She had forgotten the way that stripe bent and how large and dark his eyes had been. She only remembered the loving and sometimes mischievous glint of green underneath when he teased her. How much more would she forget over the years?
She didn't know how much time had passed before Garrus returned and put her to bed. She kept the datapad clutched tight. That night, he slept on the couch again.
The next day she asked for protective clothes and went to the ocean shore. Palaven's sun beat down harshly, deadly to her without her protective clothing. But the ocean looked just like Earth's oceans, and she imagined it looked like Kahje's oceans. She spent all day on the shore, drawing strange looks from the turian sunbathers. Finally she started talking. She told him everything she had been through, her fears, her nightmares, how terribly much she missed him. She told him how Garrus had taken care of her, how he had never given up on her, no matter how horrible she was. She owed him more than she could ever repay. She heard his voice again. "You can love twice in a lifetime."
That night, when Garrus started to head to the couch, she stopped him. "Come to bed," she whispered. It was awkward, it was friendly. They even laughed at first. Then it became by turns intense and gentle and she realized just how long he had loved her.
This time when she cried, it was for joy.
If there were any ghosts in the room, they must surely have been smiling.