Chapter Text
“Shepard, I... love you, too.”
I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth. Not because I don't mean them - Spirits, I mean them more than anything I've ever said in my life. I should have said them to her sooner, every single day from the moment I met her.
No, as the doors to the Normandy's cargo bay close, I regret the finality of those words, the unspoken goodbye. They bring with them the realization that this glimpse of Shepard's back could be the last time I'm ever at her six.
Or the last time I ever see her at all.
"No, wait-" I begin as reality sets in, but it's too late.
Liara's grip tightens around my arm. "We can't help her now, Garrus. Just look at yourself."
I do. I’d been too dazed to acknowledge the condition I’m in, but my armor is charred and ruined from the Mako that exploded in front of me. It'll be totally unsalvageable, but it did its job. I know I'm lucky to be alive, but what does that matter if Shepard doesn't make it because I let her go in alone?
I shove the asari away and bury my face in my hand. A loose piece of metal from my broken armor catches the scarring on my right mandible, and I wince.
The sharp pain is exactly the reminder I need right now. I've survived worse than this. Hell, I took a damned rocket to the face and was up and ready to fight the next day, even though my face was being held together by a bandage. Not that Shepard allowed me to join the ground team that soon after a serious injury, but I would have if she asked.
I would do just about anything for her if she asked.
Now, though, she's ordering me to sit on the sidelines for the most important mission of our lives, to wait around and hope she can handle whatever is up there on her own. I guess I've found the one thing I won't do for her.
A good turian would follow a bad order from his commander, but I've never been a good turian. I'll be damned if I start being one now.
I won't have much time before the Normandy clears Earth's atmosphere, and there's no way I'll be able to convince Joker to turn around. Not after a direct order from Shepard to leave. I look around for something - anything - that can get me back to her.
Distantly, I can hear Liara trying to speak to me again, but whatever she's saying, I don't care. Even if I did, I wouldn't be able to hear her over the sound of my own subvocals rumbling in my chest. They're a constant thrum of my desperation to find a solution.
On the other side of the cargo bay, there's a shuttle I don’t recognize. The Kodiak went down when Cortez crashed, so this shuttle will have to do. With all the chaos of the battle, someone left it running… and it's empty. Forgotten for the moment. I limp over to it as quickly as I can manage and slide into the driver's seat before anyone can stop me. With a quick swipe of my omni-tool, I lock the door.
"EDI, let me off this damn ship." I hardly recognize the almost feral growl of my own voice. “Now."
After a moment of hesitation, the ship's AI comes through the shuttle's speakers. "Commander Shepard didn't want-"
"To hell with what Shepard wants," I snap. At least no one else can hear the keening undertone of my subvocals. "She's not going in there alone."
EDI doesn't respond, and the door doesn't open. My frustrated growl vibrates deep in my chest and spreads through my entire body as I punch a manual override code into my omni-tool.
Tali and I developed the program back when we were working with Cerberus - a safeguard in case the ship's AI ever went rogue. After EDI proved herself to be a valuable member of the crew and a friend, I forgot about it. Figured it would never be necessary.
But I'll damn well use it now.
A blaring alarm fills the cargo bay, a warning that the door will open any moment. I glance around to ensure the crew - my friends - are safely secured before approving the override and leaving the Normandy behind.
As I descend the shuttle into the wreckage of London, chatter on the public comms tells me no one made it to the beam. They're wrong about that; they have to be. This is Shepard we're talking about - my Shepard.
She doesn't lose.
I switch my comms to a private channel and attempt to call her.
"Come on," I plead with the silence on the other end. "Answer me."
My heart skips a beat as my omni-tool chimes, letting me know someone else has joined the channel.
"Shepard?" I ask.
"No," EDI says, sounding almost apologetic. "Our attempts to reach her have failed."
"I'm not coming back." My voice is strangely calm as I swerve the shuttle to dodge the heat of a red beam.
"Stubborn asshole," Joker mutters. "Listen, I get that you have to go play hero, but you're not going in blind. Keep this channel open, and send us the video feed from your visor."
"Understood," I say, approving the Normandy's request for access. I'm just relieved I don't have to argue with him.
"Scans of the area show a safe landing zone one hundred yards west of the beam," EDI says. "It appears the Reaper that was in that area has moved on. It likely believes the threat has been eliminated."
"And Shepard?" I ask. "Did she make it?"
"I cannot detect Commander Shepard's life signs," EDI tells me after a brief pause.
My grip tightens around the steering control. Shepard isn’t dead until I see her body. And even then, she’s come back from that before, I remind myself.
"But I also cannot locate her signal to determine where she is. There is a chance she made it through the beam."
"Lead with that part next time," I say, letting out a breath and relaxing my hold on the controls. “A chance is all I need.”
I park the shuttle at EDI’s coordinates. Before moving out, I check my weapons. My assault rifle is gone, and my sniper rifle is ruined, the barrel bent beyond hope of repair. I’ll be devastated about losing my Mantis later, but it’s not my priority right now. I have to get to Shepard. I toss the gun onto the passenger seat and grab a spare pistol from the back.
Every inch of my body hurts, but I push through it. I don’t even want to think about the injuries I’m ignoring as pure adrenaline and excessive applications of medi-gel carry me forward. I’m going to bring Shepard home alive, and we’re going to defeat the Reapers. It’s either that, or die at her side. At this point, I won’t be picky. I just know I won’t go on without her.
This time, my run to the beam doesn’t include any explosions. There are only a few stray husks to pick off, and I handle them with ease.
If we realized the Reapers would leave the beam alone after our big push, we could have changed our strategy. If we sacrificed a larger team, a smaller one would have easily been able to infiltrate once enemy forces moved on.
I curse myself for not thinking of it sooner. I’m supposed to be a strategist, for all that’s worth. Some Reaper advisor I turned out to be.
There’s no time to indulge in my deep self-loathing right now, so I shake away the unhelpful thoughts. I have to stay focused on getting to the beam. On getting to her.
I check each broken body I pass by as I limp forward. Just to be sure.
"Garrus, there is a chance we will lose contact once you go through," EDI says.
"Understood. I'll try to reestablish a connection once I'm inside and see what we're dealing with.”
"Good luck. We're all cheering for you," Joker says. It’s a rare moment of genuine sincerity from the pilot, and it throws me off.
"I'll bring her home," I say.
"Yeah, you'd better."
The beam is right in front of me now, its electric blue light nearly blinding.
I step through, and everything flashes white.