#undynedevotion

Sometimes Garrus wonders how he could have ever gotten so lucky. It hasn’t been easy—Spirits, nothing is ever easy—but standing here, looking out over the progress they’ve made in rebuilding with Shepard at his side?

There’s nothing in the world that he would trade this for.

After the war, much of the galaxy had been left in ruins. Colony worlds, homeworlds, space stations, all torn to pieces, either by the Reapers or in attempts to salvage resources to fight. Months of work just to clear up atmospheres and re-establish basic resources: food, water, shelter. Months spent working side by side with Victus and the rest of the remaining Hierarchy. Without Shepard.

Months of waiting, of the barest scraps of communication sent across light years on a fragile, hastily reconstructed comm buoy network.

It doesn’t matter now. They’re both alive. They’re together again. That’s what matters.

“Have you heard from Tali?” Shepard asks suddenly.

It’s not an unexpected question, but it catches him off guard nonetheless. “Not since the Migrant Fleet left the system,” Garrus replies. “The comm buoys are…”

“—only thirty-two percent functional on a good day,” she finishes. “I know. It’s just… I worry about her.”

“You don’t think the geth will hold up their end of the agreement?”

She shakes her head no, without looking aside at him. Wordlessly, Garrus reaches for her hand, twines his fingers with hers. “It’s not the geth I’m worried about,” she says after a few seconds. “What happens if the quarians attack them again?”

“Considering how poorly that worked out for them the first two times, I would be surprised,” he replies.

Shepard laughs and says, “You have more faith in the other quarian admirals than I do.”

“I trust Tali,” he says simply. “Maybe when things have settled down—”

“If things settle down.”

“—when things have settled down, we’ll go visit her on Rannoch.” As he speaks, lights begin to flicker on across the fragmented city below. The sun hasn’t set just yet, but the sky is starting to darken; before long, the city lights will be all they can see.

It wasn’t so long ago that Cipritine was dark at all hours. They’ve come so far, and yet there’s still so much to rebuild and restore.

“Without the relays, that’ll be a long trip,” she remarks. Then, teasing: “Are you sure the Hierarchy will survive losing you for that long?”

“They’ll have to,” he says, and tugs her close. Shepard lets him, and rises up on her toes to meet him halfway. They stand there, foreheads just barely touching, for several long, peaceful moments—

An omni-tool beeps. For a second, neither of them move. Garrus isn’t even sure whose omni-tool it was. Then it beeps again.

When he finally straightens and checks the ‘tool on his wrist, there’s a single new message waiting for him. Shepard mirrors him—and has a matching alert on her haptic interface. “Speak of the devil,” she says with a bright smile. “It’s Tali.”

So is the message on his. It’s text-only—comm buoy limitations have all but eliminated the ability to send audio or video across star systems—but Shepard has her omni-tool read it aloud, and at first it just about matches the message sent to him, word for word.

The Fleet finally made it back to Rannoch, Shepard’s ‘tool reads in a clear, synthesized voice. It’s still just as beautiful as it was when we left last year. The people who stayed behind have done an incredible amount of work while we were gone. I wish you could see it. Quarian architecture! The geth have helped us build things the way we used to, shown us methods and designs that we’ve long since forgotten.

Then Shepard’s omni-tool diverges from his message entirely: Keelah, Shepard, this would have never happened without your help. None of it. You’ve changed history for both the quarians and the geth and it’s not enough just to thank you, but thank you.

His, in contrast, reads… differently.

It’s amazing, Garrus. It really is. But it’s… not home. I want it to be, but I’ve spent my whole life on ships. We’ve been on the move for centuries. A lot of people have settled right in, but I just got here and I’m itching to leave. So… I guess what I’m saying is, would you mind if I visited you sometime? Has Shepard joined you yet? Last I knew she was still back on Earth, but I know she wanted to be with you on Palaven. I hope she made it.

He realizes as he finishes skimming his eyes over the written message that Shepard’s omni-tool has long since fallen silent. She’s watching him with a curious look in her eyes, not quite questioning but wondering.

“Did Tali write you an essay?” she jokes.

“More of a quiz, really,” Garrus replies. He pauses, then adds, “Sounds like we won’t be visiting her after all.”

“No?”

“She’s coming to us.”

For a few seconds, there’s no reaction from Shepard. He’s briefly concerned that her translator has misinterpreted his words, but then a wide grin spreads across her face. “I guess we have a lot of work to do before she gets here,” she says brightly. “I don’t know about you, but I was raised to clean up before visitors come.”

“Clean up what, exactly?”

She shrugs. “I was already thinking about signing on with the salvage crews. I’m going to lose my mind if I spend much more time sitting around doing nothing.” He frowns at her, his browplates pulling together in a manner much the same as a human frown. “You earned some time off. More than.”

But she only continues to smile. “I’m not leaving, Vakarian,” she drawls, grabbing both his hands and pulling him towards her—and towards the door back into their prefab apartment. “But maybe I could be convinced to stay home a little longer.”