#me3verse

We’ve done a lot of crazy things, but this is too far. His own words hung in his ears, because they barely held back what he’d said underneath-- don’t do this. But Charlotte Shepard did what she was going to. Garrus couldn’t, and wouldn’t, hold her back. 

Even if it meant watching her jump into the abyss beneath them, a place he couldn’t follow if he wanted. That was what tore him up inside; the simple fact that he couldn’t fucking swim. No following her out there. He was stuck on a downed vessel in an endless sea of death and emptiness, and the only thing that scared him more than the open ocean was the fact that Shepard was out in it. 

He listened more to her comms than he did to the movement of Reaper troops he was picking off. His chest felt like it was going to burst when she went silent.

When her mech emerged from that endless ocean Garrus was already running to it in a fever pitch. He heard Liara virtually screaming at him to stay behind cover, and felt the whoosh of air as a Husk dove for him and narrowly missed. 

But he saw Shepard fall out of it like a heap on the ground, saw that abomination with a Turian face rear for her. He didn’t even fully register it when the Brute turned to strike the one next to it, all he registered was that their claws were too damn close to her.

The dodging was instinct; a quick step. A duck. A talon knocking him off-balance before he could get a hand on her.

"What? I just wanted to know. It's not that complicated."

"How would you bury me when I inevitably die?"

"I'm uh- I'm sorry about your therapist by the way. I'm sure they were... very nice." He paused. "This isn't too depressing, is it?"

Moments of quiet reprieve were rare nowadays, especially aboard the Normandy. Garrus had decided to toast this one with a drink, at least quietly to himself. It was still in his hand as Cailo came in, and Garrus didn’t so much as shift.

‘Stay with the shuttle’ was fairly self explanatory, though it was mostly ‘stay with Tali while she fixes one of the engines.’ She had it fairly covered. The Quarian would be coming back from her toolbox only to find Garrus not where he’d been standing.

He was up on top of the shuttle, lying on his front, his arms out at his sides.

 “Knock knock.” It was an announcement that came after opening the door to her cabin-- Shepard was allegedly still resting after what happened with Leviathan, but Garrus knew her well enough to assume she was probably doing anything else. “...Why do humans say ‘knock knock’ after already knocking? Is it supposed to be funny...?”

“I, uh... I took the liberty of scanning the incoming messages. Traynor gave me a pass.” There was a pause. He looked ready to spring, but lately Garrus had been wound tight with concern he was only just able to keep from taking over.

Garrus' arms crossed a little tighter.

“You can pull back.”

“Negative, General. They have us flanked-- if we pull back we fall right into Reaper hands. You know what they’re going to do to the people on board.” 

“You’re a civilian ship, Artrus, you aren’t equipped for a--”

“It doesn’t matter, Garrus. Sir. I think all of us would rather go down on our own terms.”

Garrus could hear screaming in the back of the transmission; families packed tight, children wailing. They were going to die. A battering ram of Turian lives thrown into a Reaper blockade-- the same blockade that Garrus had seen coming, and had sent them into anyway. To spare the soldiers they needed for Earth. To pick one life over the other. He and Commander Shepard had debated over it for hours, and that was what they settled on. They’d been wrong. His talons dug into the terminal he was looming over, hard enough to nearly pull his nails back. “Turn back, Artrus-- that’s an order! You still have a chance--” 

Screaming. Firing canons. They were already locked. “Artrus-!!” 

“It’s been an honor, General Vakarian--”

A sizzle and explosion. The transmission ended. Garrus was left in silence. He hadn’t heard the doors open, all he could hear was the blood pumping in his ears. swelling into scar tissue hard enough to make his face ache. 

Garrus screamed. His talons pried off of the terminal hard enough to dig furrows into the metal, but not quite as hard as the way his hands balled into fists and slammed again and again into the screen. Glass shattered, steel twisted. 

"If I let them down, they die. It's not a damn fiscal loss, it's a thousand lives."

Garrus was looming over his terminal, his shoulders squared high, his talons curled around the metal railing of the battery so tightly he could snap it in half.

A simple decision; directing the course of a few Palaven cruisers through Reaper controlled territory. A simple case of which route to choose... and which cruisers to put in more danger. The military vessel is more equipped to fight back an attack, but their survival is more important for a future fight on Earth.

Risk civilian lives. There were children on board.

Garrus took a shallow breath and lifted one hand to tug absently at the cowl of his armor. It was too heavy. He felt like he was drowning in steel. "Sorry. I don't mean to... to snap at you. I know you know what it's like, I just..."