Work Text:
“You were dead.”
Shepard spread her hands and grinned. “I was only mostly dead?”
“I watched you get pulled under, Shepard. I felt you –” the words caught in his throat. I felt you die.
The grin slipped from Shepard’s face. She was always good at reading him, even before they ever drifted together. It drove Garrus crazy, the way she always seemed to know exactly what was on his mind. It made her teasing unbearable, every argument unwinnable.
Shepard was watching him closely from across the room. Her gaze was penetrating – familiar in the way it made him feel totally transparent.
“I would’ve told you sooner,” she said quietly, “but you made yourself pretty difficult to find.”
“Well.” Garrus dropped to the floor off the crate he was sitting on. He turned toward the window overlooking the dry docks, averting his face from her dark eyes. “There wasn’t much keeping me on the Citadel.”
Shepard appeared at his side, leaning on the windowsill to watch his face. “So you catch a ride to Omega, throw yourself at the nearest problem until it kills you?”
Her words were like a knife in his side.
“What do you want from me, Shepard.”
Her expression was unreadable. “I want you back.”
He let out a rough laugh. “The Alliance must really be hurting for rangers if they’re bringing back the dead and hunting down the retired.”
“And which one are you supposed to be? Dead or retired?”
He felt the knife twist.
“I’m done with that life, Shepard. I’ve been done since –”
“Since I died?”
He can hear her scream, even over the sound of the klaxon blaring, even over the sound of metal shearing. There’s blood blooming in the water, and for a moment he can’t remember whose blood it is. He catches a glimpse of her face, her skin pallid and her eyes wide with pain. Then she’s ripped from the ruins of their jaeger, pulled into the depths. He feels the breaking of her bones, the tearing of her flesh, the water in her lungs. When the connection severs it’s like glass shattering under vacuum. He can feel her leaving him. He can feel the void where she once was.
He never found a way to fill that void.
Garrus felt the press of Shepard’s hand on his. His eyes refocused on his hands, and he realized he was gripping the windowsill with white knuckles. He released his grip and flexed his free hand.
“The Hyperion won’t be the same without you, Vakarian.” Shepard was still watching him with that penetrating stare.
“I know,” Garrus said softly.
“You know what?”
“I know that it won’t be the same.” He turned to meet her gaze, dark brown to his bright blue. “With or without me.” He smiled wanly. “But at least with me, you’ll be killing Reapers a lot more stylishly.”
Shepard barked out a laugh. Then she smiled, more genuinely than he had ever seen. And for an instant, it was like she never left him. Like that void was finally filled.
She squeezed his hand. “You’ll see. It’ll be just like old times.”
“Just like old times,” he repeated.