Chapter Text
The smell was the same. Medbays always smelt the same. No matter if its on a crummy rock in the middle of the Omega sector, a turian tent on a battlefield or on a galaxy renowned frigate. The crisp antiseptic in the air, the cool metal tinge, the drip of medical bags, blood, various bodily fluids that floated about in the otherwise cold air. All of them were alike. It was this similarity that caused him to be confused when he came to.
His return from being unconscious had been slow. Garrus suspected it was because he was pumped full of medicine. The pinch in his neck indicated that the needle was still lodged inside his skin. Hm. So either a Turian doctor was handling him, or it was someone who knew turian anatomy well enough to know that the only point on his body that could handle an IV was on his neck.
Solus came to mind. He definitely would know.
With Dr. Solus came the memory of Shepard. He gasped and immediately groaned behind the pain that followed his reaction.
“Ah,” a gentle feminine voice came from the far side of the room, “It is good to see you finally coming to, Garrus.”
He opened his eyes, taking in the ceiling above him before moving his gaze to land on the woman who was approaching, “Chakwas?”
She nodded and smiled gently towards him, “Archangel.”
Garrus scoffed, “I prefer Garrus, doc.”
The woman’s smile stayed gently on her lips as she came to inspect him, her cold hands moving against his cheek and neck before he felt an uncomfortable press against his mandible. He winced and she sighed, “Sorry, I am impressed how quickly you are taking the cybernetics.”
“What happened?”
“Rocket,” she answered him as she waved her omnitool over his body. “There was significant damage, but we were able to save your mandible, a few installations of some cybernetics to keep it hinged correctly and to replace a part that was lost.”
Garrus shrugged, wishing immediately that he wouldn’t have done that. “Rockets hurt.”
“I have no doubt,” she responded. “Your neck and shoulder were burned pretty badly, but the rest of you – aside from being dehydrated and bruised – is fine.”
He relaxed down into the pillow and let her work. She was cleaning his wounds, which only felt like she was ripping away his skin and plates that had him cursing a few times. Chakwas ignored him as he did so, she had always been steadfast in her treatment. After a while, the pain became secondary to his far too pressing thoughts. Where had she been over the last two years? He hadn’t even thought of her. Guilt crept over him again as he watched her work. He never even asked about her once they were rescued. Had she been to the memorial? He couldn’t remember.
“Its good to see you,” he said, lamely.
Her pale eyes reached his and she pursed her lips, “There are a few others who disappeared, it seems like you are not the only person to be found now that she is back.”
“Is she?” He asked her gently, he looked deep into her eyes, searching. If anyone could determine if it was Shepard or not it would have to be Chakwas. The woman had been her medical overseer for years. Even before their race to find and put down Saren. “Back…I mean?”
She smiled softly at him, reaching out take his hand briefly in her own, a rare moment of personal action against her almost notorious professional beside manner, “She is, as medically and scientifically complicated as it would be to explain it – but I have been around for the last six months as she…” she paused, looking as if she was trying to figure out how to continue, finally she decided on, “…recovered.”
“How?” Garrus didn’t understand.
“That is a story for another day, Mr. Vakarian,” she would tell him, the pressure from her hand increasing, “Just know that it is her – no matter what you hear or what is explained.”
Garrus nodded to her. Feeling at odds with the fact that she was confirming Shepard was real, but that there was something to be apprehensive about in the fact of. He could guess it was because she had been fucking dead. He frowned. But dead people don’t walk around. Maybe she had been recovered close to dead? That thought didn’t sit well with him either. It meant they had all failed her. Having given up looking.
Perhaps the Alliance had found her?
He didn’t think that was the case either, not from the look of the medbay. There was nothing about this room that indicated it was military ran. From the SR-1 he remembered everything had a brand of the Alliance A. From the uniforms to the walls to the damn sheets that would be on their beds. In the medical wing of whatever ship they were on now – it was too clean, too spacious, too luxurious to be a military vessel.
“Where are we?”
The doctor stilled, looking at him again with a small tension in her shoulders, “The Normandy.”
He glared at her, “Is that supposed to be funny?”
“No,” she told him and finally finished replacing the bandage she had been working with, “It was rebuilt, this is the SR-2.”
“The alliance rebuilt it?”
He watched her swallow, her throat working over the motion as she shook her head, “This entire affair, Garrus,” she sighed softly and waved around the room with her finger, “Was done by Cerberus.”
“Cerberus?” He reeled back, wincing as he did so. “What, why?”
“I was asked to be here for Shepard,” she shrugged. “I honestly have no real answers. I know where you can find them. Ask Shepard or one of the Cerberus operatives.”
“Shepard would never work with Cerberus,” he said disbelieving.
“There is a greater enemy coming,” was all she said.
The Reapers. Fuck. He hadn’t necessary forgotten about the Reapers. He knew they were there. Trying to float their way back into the galaxy and that Sovereign’s kind would annihilate them all if and when they returned. Omega took his mind off of them though. Off of her. Off of all of that. Guilt and panic warred inside of him for a moment at the realization that over two years had passed, and he hadn’t thought more on them since mentioning them to Okuda. He had had no contact with anyone since he had gotten to Omega and -as much as being isolated from all of it had been easier- it had been a weakness on his part.
Cowardly.
Grief takes away logic.
“Is there any news on that?” Garrus asked and he watched as the doctor looked at him confused. “The Reapers? I…I haven’t been exactly keeping up…”
“No, none, they covered it all up and did so with ease,” she spat, “The Council, the Alliance – blamed it on the Geth and when Shepard died, they blamed that on the Geth too. With no evidence and no one to constantly stand up to them like she did, the issue died down and its been quiet since.”
“What about the surviving crew? No one came forward?”
“Of course, we did,” she glared at him, anger in her gaze and he momentarily felt struck. He had never seen Chakwas angry or upset for that matter. “We all did, even Kaidan,” but her usual tenderness when she said that name was lacking, “...tried. But he was promoted and shipped off to be silenced. The rest of us were separated. Liara went away, you disappeared, Tali went home and Wrex…” she sighed, “I never thought I’d see the day that any of you would come back.”
Garrus looked away from her then, “I won’t apologize for leaving.”
“You don’t have to,” she would say, “I understand why you did. It wasn’t easy on any of us.”
He shook his head, refusing to talk on the subject any longer, “So Cerberus brought the Normandy back, recruited Joker and you and what…found her?”
“From what I know, there have been attacks on human colonies and Cerberus actually believed the Commander about the Reapers. They offered to help,” she shrugged, “I worked with the doctors in the last few months of her recovery. I knew all about her and they needed the information to make sure that they were putting her back together exactly as she was.”
“And you think they did?”
It was asked with a biting tone. Cerberus was evil. There was no way around it. The countless mission against them during his time on the first Normandy was proof enough. The experiments done, the monsters they created – absolutely horrifying. The studies, the tests, the death toll. The entire organization preached humanity first and were as anti-human as they could get, but what he saw behind the windows of their bases was not good for any species. There was nothing to be gained from torturing and experiments.
“I know they did,” she would say, “I am nothing if not a bloody good doctor, Garrus, and I know a body when I see one. She is flesh and bone and yes – she has a lot of cybernetics added because that was how they had to heal her. But they are all non-tech. All mechanical. Nothing about them can control or force her into actions. Any doubt of that was cleared when they allowed me to inspect every single piece of equipment they installed inside of her.”
“I am glad you were there.”
“I was there because they wanted her to know she was real. They have used me in the most obvious and disgusting way, Garrus,” she sighed, and he watched her age before him slightly, “If she doesn’t doubt herself then she will trust them more. Knowing that she is who she is and not a tool they can use – gives her some sense of free will, but…. its Cerberus. Nothing is that easy.”
Garrus reached out for her then and laid his hand on her shoulder, “Whatever they plan to do – we won’t let them. They underestimate your loyalty Karin and they didn’t expect me. You know I have her back.”
She grinned up at him then and patted his hand before stepping out of his reach and nodding, “No one has ever expected you, Garrus.”
He didn’t know what to make of that, but he gave her a loose half smile, his face hurt – hell all of him hurt – “I’m going to take that as a good thing and not an insult. My face hurts.”
“It will, for a while, but at least you still have one.”
“Comforting as always, doc.”
“I do what I can,” she quipped and smiled once more before moving back across the room and letting him relax back into his bed.
A few hours later, against Doctor Chakwas wishes, Garrus pulled on his charred armor, looking at the broken part around the lip and ran a talon along the jagged edge. It was a reminder. It was Omega and everything that had been lost. For some reason, the thought brought comfort to him. He wasn’t whole – he doubted if he ever would be again. And the armor he had bought while living there was just as shattered as he was. Omega would always be a broken thing to him.
He sighed as he finished with the last clasp, looking over his shoulder towards the doctor who was staring at him with a small smile on her lips and her arms crossed, “Be back here in three hours for your next dose and a bandage inspection. Or I will sedate you – and make sure you don’t leave my bay for a week.”
“Yes ma’am,” he gave her a lazy half salute in mock human style that caused her to chuckle as he retreated from the room.
Garrus took his time looking around the mess hall, his gaze dripping from person to person as they looked at him with open curiosity and obvious hesitation. None of them spoke to him. Their uniforms were stark realizations of their affinity and he felt himself bristle at the thought that he was on a ship full of human-first operatives. He was not welcomed here. Not really.
His mind was all over the place. Thankfully, whatever sleep he had gotten since his injury had cleared up the haze that had clouded his mind. He truly had been on the last bit of mental awareness on that bridge. He still didn’t know the full length of his stint fighting the mercs off, but the fact that he had been hallucinating his entire squad indicated it had been a long one. He sighed, the memory of some of the moments he heard them coming back to him and he grimaced when he moved his injured shoulder. In a strange way, the pain kept him grounded.
Because honestly, the entire ‘Shepard’s back’ situation was threatening to unravel him.
It was surreal. He paused at when he came up to an elevator and stared at the button for a moment. Was this real? Garrus placed a hand flat against the elevator door, pressing against the metal with genuine need to feel something solid.
Movement from his right brought his attention to it, he eyed the female approaching him and when she stopped next to him, he looked at her, “What?”
“Your name is Garrus Vakarian.”
“And your name is Miranda.”
“Miranda Lawson,” she informed him, “I lead Project Lazarus. The Commander has told me to grant you access to all files available for study on the matter. I assure you; I have made sure to keep as many of those files outside of encryption as I possibly can permit.”
His hand dropped from the elevator, and he finally turned his frame towards her, with a lazy glance at her face he looked down her body and then back up, “You’re the one responsible for healing her?”
She smirked, “You can say that. I led a team, but without me she would have remained…”
“Dead.”
Her blue eyes widened just enough for her shock to display itself, her plump lips tightening as she spoke with practiced poise, “I confide to you; it was able to be done, regardless of the state she was given to us.”
“Given to you?”
Miranda continued, ignoring his question, “The Commander had viable tissue to utilize. All of the details will be in the information I have sent to you.”
His brow plated lowered, “My omnitool is fried.”
She grinned at him, “It was fixed.”
“I don’t think I’ll use anything that Cerberus fixed, thanks.”
“You speaking to me right now completely contradicts that statement, Mr. Vakarian,” she said with a cold tilt to her words, “We may be Cerberus, but for now – we are all on the same side. Just remember the next time you want to make a snide comment about our organization, it was that very organization that saved your Commander and you. Also, your pilot. Whether you agree with what has been done in the past or not – we come together to face a common enemy.”
Garrus’ head tilted slightly as he regarded her. She had a fair point. “Do you think that bringing in the old SR-1 pilot, and the doctor wouldn’t be such an obvious bait and take?”
Miranda grinned at him yet again, “Sentiments to put her at ease, Mr. Vakarian. After all waking from the dead was bound to be stressful.”
“And how is she doing with that stress?”
“Magnificently,” she told him with a snap to her shoulders, her entire face shifted into prideful arrogance, “I do not do anything half-way. The Commander is a direct reflection of my abilities and I have no doubt in them.”
“It would seem,” he drawled.
“Do not misunderstand me,” she told him, “She is capable, and her mental stability and physical aptitudes are all her’s. They are, however, products of my project. I am pleased with the results so far.”
“Can we be done with this conversation?” He asked plainly. He felt exhausted by the detached scientific nature that the woman was speaking. Like Shepard was a science project. Garrus sighed, shaking his head and looking her dead in the eyes, “You undid a natural act, Lawson, no matter how successful it is – you ripped her away from her natural end. I doubt there will be no consequences dealt here. And I do not have to stand around pretending to be thankful or impressed.”
“There is no such thing as a natural end in science, Vakarian. It is what we do. We tamper, discover and create. My conscious is clear,” Miranda took a heeled step backwards, the sound of it loud within the hallway, “Shepard is in the communication room with Operative Taylor – should you want to go and see her. I am sure she will be grateful for the visit.”
He nodded, “Understood.”
When she turned and walked away, he frowned at her back. Everything about that woman wanted him to break her neck. She was clinical, cold, calculating and yet – he found that she seemed almost protective over Shepard. Perhaps it was because she was her pet project. If she really had been the lead in bringing Shepard back from death, Miranda was someone that needed to be around. Just in case. Garrus hated the just in case narrative.
Glad that that meet and greet was over, he touched the call button and entered the elevator when it came to collect him. After a moment he exited the elevator and looked up to a door under the title of Communications and appreciated the ease that it took for him to find it. When he approached he heard a male voice clearly say, “…I’m sorry, Shepard…he is…” Garrus entered the room, his gaze looked first to Shepard and then to the dark skinned man in a one-piece black and white suit. Was that the fashion of Cerberus? First Lawson now this guy? The man spoke again, “…a tough son of a bitch.”
He regarded him for a split second more before looking at Shepard and noticing the concern in her eyes, her face was barely holding back a wave of fear, her shoulders tight, but it was her arms crossed around her midsection that gave her away. She was barely holding it together. He took in a breath then, shocked at how easy it was to read this Shepard. Just as easy as it had been to read his Shepard.
“No one’s given me a mirror,” he pointed at her once and stepped towards her, clearing the doorway, “How bad is it?”
A little upward tilt of the corner of her lips was a small victory for him, “Hell,” she sighed the word, “Garrus,” she took a deep breath after his name, “You were always ugly, slap some face paint on there and no one will even notice.”
He chuckled and grimace, “Don’t make me laugh, Shepard, my face is barely holding together as it is.”
She frowned then, a small step in his direction before looking at the other man in the room. Whoever this Operative was, he at least could read a room. He nodded to them both and left quietly. Garrus watched him leave before looking up to her, “I hear a lot of women have a thing for scars, though…” he took a step towards her, “Most of those women are krogan.”
She laughed watery at him, finishing the distance between them and hugged him tightly, he brought his good arm around her back and pressed her hard against him. “Garrus, I…I didn’t know you were Archangel – I would have come sooner. I had your dossier for at least two weeks!”
In time, he was sure he would understand what that meant, but for now, “Shepard, I’m okay, I had a lot to keep busy with.” He looked down at her as she lifted her chin to look at him, “Frankly, I’m more worried about you – Shepard. Cerberus?”
If he didn’t know for a fact that he hadn’t slapped her – he would have thought she had been slapped. Her face flinched, her body jerked, and she growled, literally growled, as she said, “I know.”
“Are you okay?”
She scoffed, “I was dead less than a month ago, Garrus, now I’m working for the worst kind of criminals, and I have a face that looks like I fell into radioactive barbed wire.”
He brought his hand up to grab her chin, slowly moving her face to the right and then to the left, “At least I won’t have to depend on my visor to see you in the dark?”
Shepard chuckled half-amused, “It’s a painful reminder of how fucked up this entire thing is.”
“I can’t begin to understand any of it,” he told her, catching her green gaze with his blue-gray, “But you are most certainly here in front of me again and …as much as I have no idea how…I really am not upset by that fact.”
She lifted both of her hands and grabbed the back of his neck, forcing him down – he grimaced just slightly as her palm pressed against his burns, but he didn’t resist and when he stooped low enough she pressed her forehead against his, “I am so glad you were Archangel.”
Grief flooded his mind, pain, bitterness at the name, “Please,” he said dryly as he shifted his forehead slightly against her’s, “Its just Garrus to you, Archangel needs to be buried.”
Her eyes were closed when she nodded awkwardly, “I have so much to tell you and so many questions to ask.”
Garrus was the one who pulled away then, his neck screaming at him, he reached up to grab her hands from the back of his neck and brought them in front of them, he nipped at her thumb and smiled at the red blood that oozed from the small cut, “Can we just – put all those on hold for a minute? I just got my face shot off.”
Shepard was staring at her thumb with a curious frown before she lifted her eyes to meet his, “Of course, I…I – God – Garrus, I found you and then you almost died on me!”
“Well,” he released her hands and brought himself up to stand in his old cocky swagger, “You did die on me, so consider it even.”
She crossed her arms and shot him a playful glare, “Low blow, Vakarian, but you have a point.”
“I always do.”
Shepard smiled, “I have to look over some more dossiers, I have recruited a few people so far,” she stepped away from him and moved back towards the table – motioning for him to follow. “I have hired on an old mercenary by the name Massini, Zaeed Massini. Have you heard of him?”
“Rumor was he died?”
“Yeah,” she laughed a little, “He came back from the dead too.”
“Common theme here,” Garrus stated, “Who else?”
“Mordin, he said he knew you,” she looked at him with a question in her eyes and he just nodded towards her, “He is brilliant, talks a lot, but brilliant. And then you.”
“How many more people do you have to recruit?”
“So far, I have three more sent my way – but we need a full team. I don't want to work with a limited crew like with did with Saren. I’ll need at least four more.”
“Let me see them,” he held his hand out for the dossiers. Garrus looked over the first one – an old battlemaster krogan by the name of Okeer. He seemed to be top of the list, but nothing about his past seemed especially useful for their team. They already had too many scientists on board. Then again, a krogan scientist was still a powerhouse of a teammate when it comes to brute strength. He looked to the next one and raised a brow at it, “A criminal?”
“Well,” she shrugged, “We need a biotic on the team. One that isn't Cerberus. I have no intention on bringing them ground side unless I have to so -- I need a biotic.”
He looked at her, “Have you thought of reaching out to the Alliance?”
“I already did,” she said sadly, “It was my first stop when I was able to gain full control of the Normandy. I went and spoke to Anderson. He was less impressed by my choices to go along with Cerberus, but he understands. His hands are tied and the Reapers are coming. If I have to work with the devil himself, I’ll do it. The Reapers are the bigger threat right now.”
“I agree,” he told her seriously, “Cerberus or not – they have the funds and the ability to help. We use it.”
She looked into his eyes for a long moment. In an instant he felt transported back to a time on the old ship, she had given him that look on more than one occasion. He didn’t understand what it meant, but just like the other times he felt something shift between them. Something important. “Thank you,” she told him softly.
He reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder, “I always have your back, Shepard.”
She nodded and motioned for him to turn back to the matter at hand, “Anderson won’t tell me where Kaidan is, so this is the best I got.”
The name was said so tenderly he almost cringed. He dropped his hand from her and nodded. “Hopefully she works with us. She has some pretty heavy charges against her. But if she is as powerful as it implies, she could be more valuable than any other we recruit.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
Garrus wanted nothing more than to move on from the topics of biotics. He didn’t want to think about Kaidan and he certainly didn’t want to have a conversation with her about the man. The last he had seen of him was at her memorial. He wasn’t sure if he would ever be comfortable talking about him to Shepard. As it was, the fact that he had almost killed him was a bit of a tough subject that was bound to cause a problem. He shook his head and shifted to the next datapad.
The name was familiar: Kasumi Goto.
But it was the purple paint on the bottom lip of the hooded figure that caused his grip to tighten as realization dawned on him, “A thief?”
“She’s a tech expert – one of the best in the entire galaxy!” She smiled wide, her voice bubbling with excitement and tried getting the datapad out of his hand, frowning when she met resistance, “You don’t approve?”
He let it go and shook his head, “I do, I just…I know her.”
“You know her?”
“Well, I knew her boyfriend.”
“What? How?”
Garrus eyed her for a moment before sighing, “It’s been a long two years, Shepard, I met a lot of people since we beat Saren. Keiji Okuda, her boyfriend, and her were two of them.”
“Oh,” she would say, looking away from him with a slight sag of her shoulders, “I’m sorry, I forget it’s been that long.”
For a moment they let her statement linger between them before he asked, “How long does it feel like it’s been for you?”
Shepard shrugged, “I don’t know – a few weeks?”
“A few weeks…” he repeated and blinked at that. “Spirits, Shepard, I…that’s…”
“It is what it is,” she said matter-of-factly, “I just have to keep reminding myself that. It was weird when you licked me.”
Garrus snapped his attention to her so fast he grimaced and winced aloud, her change of topic sudden, “I... I’m sorry,” he said against the pain.
She reached up to press her fingertips against her neck and eyed him curiously, “The old Garrus wasn’t so hands on.”
He felt himself stiffen at the words and tore his eyes away from her to look down at the table. No, the old Garrus had been a whole different creature. He had been fool-hearted, upbeat, rash, naïve even. The old C-Sec version of himself was someone he actually missed. Before everything happened. Before Saren, before Alchera, before Omega. The older him would have probably accused her of being a clone or a bot. He would have sneered down his nose at her or worse, shot her on the bridge. It was simpler back then. This was that and that was this. There were no questions of the in between moments.
When he brought his eyes back up to meet her’s, she was studying him, he gave a one shoulder shrug, luckily remembering not to jostle his marred side, “Should I apologize?”
“No,” she told him instantly and he watched as an odd red hue took to her cheeks. He raised a plated brow as she continued, “I mean, no. I didn’t mind the way you confirmed it was me. It helped me too.”
“Did it?”
“I trust your turian instincts far more than I trust datapads and scientists.”
He nodded, understanding, “If ever you need more confirmation –”
They both let that die between them, but their gazes locked with one another. Her breathing had quickened just enough to be detected without the use of his visor. Her hand lifted towards him and he made to step closer so she could run her fingers over the bandage on the side of his face. His breath caught in his throat at how sensitive it was under her ghost of a touch.
“Commander, ETA to Korlus in 15 minutes.”
Her hand instantly left his cheek as she turned her body away from him and faced a strange blue orb in the room. Garrus followed her attention and looked at it with a tilt to his head, “Thanks EDI.”
“You are welcome, Commander.”
“Who was that?” He asked her. Their moment completely gone and replaced with genuine curiosity behind the sudden appearance and voice.
“That’s EDI.”
“Obviously, but who is it?”
Shepard looked at him and smiled tightly – “The Normandy V.I.”
He regarded her for a moment, “Fuck,” he breathed and glared at the empty podium, “Of fucking course Cerberus would have one.”
“Its not so bad,” she would say gently to him.
“All it means is there no place on this ship that’s without eyes and ears, Shepard,” he glared at her, “Everything we say is recorded and every move we make will be used against us.”
“There’s the old C-sec officer,” she jabbed at him.
“I am serious here,” he warned her.
“I know – nothing we can do about it – so the way I see it we have two options. One: we play super nice and amicable so that we cause no problems at all,” she grinned then and looked at him with a playful smirk, “Or two: we just do whatever it is that we want to do because who the fuck gives a damn?”
“Whatever we want to do?”
“Within reason of course – you know how I run my ship. But the Illusive Man and I know that I am only doing this because I have a lack of options – I do not plan on censoring myself to fill his ego.”
Garrus grinned at her, “Coming from one of the most paragon individuals I have ever met.”
“Yeah,” she nodded and stepped around the table walking to the door, she exited it and turned back to him, a ghost of a memory came back to him from where she had just yelled at the old council coming to mind when she reached out and leaned her hand against the frame, her chin held over her shoulder as she smiled mischievously toward him, “But she died so – I’m gonna live a little more for the both of us.”
And with that she left him slack jawed. Both mandibles falling out in shock only for him to curse aloud and cringe at the pain that took hold of his face. Damnit. He had to stop doing that.