Chapter Text
Garrus is home and he brought back a troubling story. It’s late, and Castis sits in the sunroom. The cannabum diffuser is going and he inhales deeply, trying to think through all he’s learned.
The Reapers will be coming for them all in months, and few believe Commander Shepard. Garrus spoke thoroughly about his experiences, and he does believe his son.
He needs to get him a meeting with Primarch Caius Fedorian. They’re old friends, having met at basic training decades ago. From time to time they still get together, mostly to smoke cannabum with their other friends, Bruce and Marv, in Bruce’s bomb shelter.
Caius was always the diplomatic one, Bruce the creative one, Marv the safe one, and he the ambitious one. That Caius would end up in politics was clear even when Castis was still a boy.
In his addled mind, he decides it’s a good idea to call Caius now. He answers, still dressed in a black suit; his uniform as much as Castis’ armour is his. “Looks like you’re having fun,” Caius says. “I’m envious.”
“If you wished to come over and join me, you would be welcome.”
Caius looks over at a datapad. “I’ve got a meeting at 10 tomorrow but it’s early enough for me to come by for a bit. See you in 15 minutes.”
He hadn’t actually expected him to take him up on the offer, but Caius enters the yard precisely 15 minutes later and opens the door to the sunroom.
Punctuality. That’s another thing Caius Fedorian is known for. In an occupation that frequently pulls him in many different directions, Caius is almost never tardy.
“Primarch Fedorian,” he greets as Caius sits down next to him.
“Ah; a professional meeting, then?” Caius says, sounding slightly disappointed.
“A brief one,” he promises. “I need to get Garrus a meeting with you. A formal meeting.”
Caius chuckles, looking baffled, but opens his omni-tool. “I do offer civilian hours but they fill up fast. The next availability is…” he scrolls through his calendar, “three months from now.”
“Sir, this is a military matter and not a civilian one, and a matter of galactic security. If you can free some time up tomorrow…”
Caius looks even more baffled. “Whatever this is has scared you. I never thought you’d be pushing me to meet formally with your boy; not after all of your disagreements.”
“I’ll not overstep; this intel is the result of Garrus’ hard work and dedication and not mine. But yes, I’m scared.”
“I’ve got a dinner tomorrow evening…” Caius mutters, more to himself than anything, “but I can give him 20 minutes just before I have to leave for it.”
20 minutes isn’t going to be enough, but he hopes that the information Garrus has is so shocking that Caius cancels whatever dinner engagement he has.
“I was at a social event a few weeks ago in the senate chamber. I’m not sure if I’ve told you, but we only open it up to non-members once a year. Every Palaveni general was in attendance, alongside a group of wealthy donors and military families.”
His family has never been to such a party and likely never will be. They’re not a wealthy or especially renowned family.
“Have you ever met General Victus?”
He knows of Victus; most turians on Palaven do. The man has a brilliant sense of strategy, but that brilliance often leads to unconventional tactics. He’s widely loathed amongst the top-ranked in their society, but from what he’s heard, the soldiers under his command are deeply loyal to him.
Victus is a couple of years older than him, and did his basic training at another base, so he’s never run into the man. Fedorian knows him reasonably well due to his position as primarch.
“I have not, though I suspect he has irritated you, Caius?”
That’s the only reason he can think of for Caius to be sharing this particular anecdote.
“He picked a fight with someone at that event. Really made a scene. You’d have been horrified by some of the language he used.”
“I was a soldier and a C-Sec officer; I’ve heard and even occasionally used foul language before,” he scoffs.
“General Victus expressed no regret for his conduct. He’s frequently done this at social events; his bondmate too. I was frustrated by it at the time, but I also have to privately acknowledge that… he wasn’t entirely wrong. Victus’ manner was, especially since the man he targeted was not convicted of the crime he was accused of, but… we all know he was guilty,” Caius says.
“But if there was not enough evidence, acquitting is the only morally right thing to do. Better that than to risk imprisoning an innocent person,” he points out.
“I agree,” Caius says quickly, “and I did point out to Victus that he had been acquitted. It’s a bit like when your child is doing something naughty that also happens to be amusing: you must disapprove outwardly, and hold your laughter.”
“I’m sure General Victus will love being compared to a misbehaving child.”
Caius chuckles. “Knowing him, I think he would find it more amusing than anything. If he would just learn to keep his mouth shut and behave himself…”
He thinks of Garrus, who hasn’t followed an established path, but who has found success regardless. Perhaps him and Victus have something in common.
“Perhaps our society is stronger because of those who challenge established thought,” he says.
“Not what I ever expected to hear from you, I’ll admit,” Caius says, leaning over to refill the diffuser. “I’m curious what your boy will share with me tomorrow.”
***
Garrus is frustrated upon returning home following the meeting. “He listened, and took my documentation, promising to review it, but left for his dinner! No commitment to doing a damn thing!” Garrus rants, pacing back and forth in the living room.
Without another word, he sends his friend’s personal comm address over to Garrus. Caius will probably be irritated with him, but better an irritated friend than a whole society unprepared for what is to come.
“Caius goes to the gym every morning at 6 am. I can give you my membership to use. He favours free weights over the cardio machines, and will periodically spar with his bodyguards. Since you know him, you may be able to get in the ring with him,” he says, and Garrus nods.
Tomorrow morning they’re heading to visit Ceci, but Garrus will have the time to make it to the gym, and hopefully have a few more minutes of face time with the primarch.
***
Subject: Seriously?
Castis, you gave your son your gym membership, I see. A discovery I made just now when he hovered over me at the free weights, challenged me to a spar, and then showered in the stall next to me, talking the entire time about the ‘pressing situation’.
Can I not shower in peace? I’ve agreed to meet with your son after the three of you return from visiting Cecilia.
Please take your gym membership back; that is my quiet time to reflect on matters, and I’d rather my bodyguards not witness me getting knocked to the mat by a man I held as a newborn.
C
He is chuckling as Garrus walks through the door, an air of triumph all around him. “You’ve managed to successfully irritate Primarch Fedorian,” he says. “Normally I’d say bugging him in the change room was a bit much, but given the circumstances I’ll concede that it was the correct course of action.”
“For a busy man, he sure emailed you quickly,” Garrus says.
“You’ve genuinely irritated him and he’s a little miffed with me.”
“Sorry.”
He narrows his eyes at Garrus. “I instructed you to push. It is too dire to do anything but push until someone has agreed to do something. Caius will get over it soon enough; I’ll probably see him within the week and will supply the snacks at our get together when I do.”
The shuttle ride takes several hours, and they land in what is the early morning in the region of Sur’Kesh that the Helos Medical Institute is located in. They arrive at the hotel, drop off their bags, and make their way to the institute, speaking little as they do.
This city is beautiful in a way Palaven cities are not. There is greenery on every building roof, as well as down the outside walls. They drive past several pristine ponds that are filled with various waterfowl who swim in small groups.
There are no visible military fixtures, the buildings in the residential areas of the city are not made of metal, as they would be on Palaven, and sunroofs are common.
“Dad, go and talk to Mom first. She usually recognizes you, at least,” Sol says, not hiding her bitterness. Ceci hasn’t recognized their daughter for some time and it has been painful for her.
By now most of the facility staff know him and Sol, but Garrus provides his identification at the front desk before they’re allowed onto the ward itself. The three of them walk in silence down the hallway; the walls and floors beige and bland. Several nurses nod at the three of them in greeting.
Ceci’s room is at the end of a long hallway, and he gently opens the door to find her sitting in the recliner in her room. In the corner on a table is a vase of freshly cut flowers; he pays to have them delivered weekly. While she may not be allowed to keep a live plant at this facility, at least Ceci will have beautiful flowers to enjoy.
His bondmate brightens as soon as she sees him. “Cas! The nurse said you’d be coming today.”
Her pale plates are duller than ever, her eyes slightly clouded, and she’s so frail. After retiring he thought he’d grow used to seeing her like this. He hasn’t. He now knows that’s impossible.
He drags over a chair and sits down next to her, leaning over to nuzzle her. “How are you feeling?” he asks. “Is the treatment getting any easier?”
She’s been tired these last few weeks, but has a week-long break from her treatments now.
“Can you take me home? I’d like to go home,” she says in a desperate tone of voice that breaks his heart.
“Why don’t I talk to the nursing staff? Perhaps I can get you out on a pass for a few days, and even if I’m not allowed to bring you home to Cipritine, we can have a few days together here in the city. There are plenty of gardens we can visit,” he says.
“You aren’t at work.”
“Well-spotted,” he deadpans, making Ceci huff at him.
“You retired, didn’t you? Is it because of me?” Ceci asks, not meeting his eyes. He reaches over to take her hand.
“If it were me in your position, can you honestly tell me you wouldn’t have retired too?”
“I would have,” Ceci says. “But you found such satisfaction in your work.”
“My family needs me now and I am where I belong. Speaking of - I have a surprise. Sol is just outside, and so is Garrus.”
Ceci stares, wide-eyed at him and then scrolls through her omni-tool. “Garrus? I see that we spoke once in the last few months and that he’s messaged me, but he never said he was visiting… unless I forgot,” she says, her face falling.
“I’ll get them,” he says quickly, before she can ponder her reality further.
Garrus’ face is still bandaged from whatever injuries he received during his mission, which is going to upset Ceci, but he hopes the relief of seeing him will overshadow her sorrow. He stands up, opens the door and gestures to his children to enter the room.
His son walks with an air of a child who has been caught doing something naughty, and Sol is equally nervous. Garrus’ trepidation is not knowing what to expect; Sol’s is because she knows painfully well what to expect.
Ceci looks at the two of them and opens her arms, gesturing to the two of them. Both Garrus and Sol brighten, walk over, bend down and give their mother a hug. “I’m happy to see you both,” Ceci says.
She looks at Garrus - specifically the bandages on the side of his face. “What happened?” she asks softly, gesturing to his face.
“Oh, you know… just a little clumsy,” Garrus stammers.
He’s grateful Ceci doesn’t push, though she does ask for time alone with each of them, starting with Garrus. Him and Sol walk to the cafeteria and sit for an hour until Garrus arrives, indicating that it’s Sol’s turn to speak with Ceci.
“I’ll help her eat,” Sol says before she leaves.
Garrus sits down across from him, and he slides a pre-packaged snack cake his way. Quickly, Garrus tears into it, though winces as he swallows it down.
“Hospital food has earned its reputation,” he says.
“It might be better than ship food. Definitely better than the human attempts at dextro food I had during my last mission. At least, the attempts made by people who aren’t Shepard. She’s a good cook and managed to make a few simple dishes for me and Tali.”
“That was kind of her,” he says.
“She’s thoughtful like that. Made sure we had decent rations and picked up snacks for us. On the Citadel we went and tried a few human places. I had something called ‘Chinese’ food - whatever that means,” Garrus says.
“It’s a country on Earth,” he says immediately and Garrus looks at him strangely.
“What did you get? I was always fond of spring rolls when Alec and I ordered it. They had these noodles that were yellow and the seasoning was called…” he trails off, cursing his memory. Him and Alec each ordered that dish countless times over the years.
“Curry? That one was Shepard’s favourite. I like it too. I forget that you’ve spent a lot of time with humans.”
“Alec, mostly. I rarely interacted socially with my human C-Sec colleagues outside of work hours. There’s a Chinese restaurant in Cipritine now, you know. I’ve ordered from there a couple of times and it’s not bad. Asari-owned, though; the person who runs it moved to China fairly shortly after humans joined the galactic community. She has some interesting stories,” he says.
“I’ll have to give it a try. It will have to be enough until…” Garrus’ subvocals rumble with grief. He misses Shepard, Castis realizes.
“It’s good that the primarch has agreed to meet again. Keep pushing until he agrees to provide you with resources. Have you considered what we’ll be needing, given your expertise?”
Garrus opens a document on his omni-tool with lists, contact information, and several diagrams of weapons, Reapers and ships. “I haven’t been sleeping much,” Garrus says ruefully. “I made Shepard a promise and I’m going to keep it.”
“You know the stakes and are taking steps to protect your people and the galaxy at large. I am sure she will be pleased when she learns this,” he says.
Garrus looks at him as if he’s hit his head, making his stomach churn with shame. He was hard on Garrus. Hard on both of his children, and he struggled to tell them when they did well. Even now, he hides his pride behind Commander Shepard. “I am sure she will be pleased,” and not “I am proud of what you’re doing.”
“Keep Sol and Mom safe, Dad.”
“You know I’ll do my best to protect the family,” he says.
***
When he enters the room Ceci looks at him as if she knows something he doesn’t. Pleased, with a hint of mischievous. What he doesn’t tell her is that he suspects he knows the same information Garrus likely told her: that he is in love with Commander Shepard.
“Did you have a good visit with the kids?”
“Garrus is happy, which made me happy. He struggled for so long to find his place, but he’s finally found it, Cas. Commander Shepard is good to him, and I want you to be fair to her when you meet her. You may hate Spectres as a whole, but you cannot condemn her on a personal level without meeting her.”
As much as Ceci attempts to speak as if Shepard is merely Garrus’ commanding officer, it’s clear to him that she’s warning him to be fair to the woman who may become his daughter-in-law.
“She has earned my respect already, despite being a Spectre, and I look forward to thanking her in-person for all she’s done for Garrus,” he assures Ceci, who smiles at him.
“I always could count on you, my darling,” she says, reaching over with an emaciated and trembling hand. Her arm drops, unable to find his face, so he takes her hand and lifts it so she can cup his face.
“Before you left home, you told me not to tell you how I feel about you. That it would be a goodbye and that you didn’t want one. But… I feel compelled to share with you, and I’ve been practicing the words, and I think I have them,” he says, cursing his awkwardness. He’s terrible at this sort of thing.
“If you insist,” Ceci says in a teasing tone of voice.
“I love you, and that you chose to share your life with me is something that is deeply meaningful. We…” his neck grows hot as he struggles through a speech he rehearsed to himself countless times because this is so much different than speaking into the washroom mirror is, “made a good family. A good life, and I am grateful for you. I know what’s to come and we spoke of it frequently, but I wouldn’t change anything. Ceci, you are… everything to me.”
She nods, but says nothing at first. He fears this lucidity she’s had all day will disappear before she has a chance to respond.
“Darling, I…”
“Cas, let’s just enjoy the moment together,” she says, and it strikes him that this is her way of telling him how much she loves him. Ceci dislikes silence because it makes her anxious. So often she would fill silence with banter or random comments because it was easier for her than the quiet.
He moves the chair closer to the recliner she sits in, and rests his head against hers. They sit in silence for a long while and he blocks out the noise from the hallway, focusing only on her and the sound of their breathing.
“I love you,” she says. “I think… I…” she trails off. “I’m so tired.”
“We’ll return tomorrow to visit. I can help get you ready to settle into bed, and Garrus and Sol will come in to say goodbye for the day,” he says.
He helps her undress and sits her down in the tub, gently washing her body with a soap that smells very… clinical. Hospital-like. Before they head over tomorrow he should stop and get something more pleasant for her, he thinks.
Afterwards, he towels her off and slips a green nightgown over her head, and carries her to bed. He messages his children, who come in almost immediately. “Your mother is feeling tired so I’ve helped her into bed, and we can return in the morning to visit again.”
Ceci looks over at Garrus and Sol. “The two of you are getting so big. Garrus, what happened to your face?”
This is the first she’s become lost all day; a rare blessing this last year. Sol doesn’t react, but Garrus winces.
“He fell out of the tree in the back, Ceci,” he says immediately. “The doctors were able to treat and close his wounds.”
“Garrus, you need to be more careful. The branches on the tree are too thin to support the weight of a growing turian; if you want to try climbing, we can look into the wall climbing facility downtown. I believe they have a free evening once a month.”
“I’ll be more careful, Mom. That sounds great,” Garrus says hoarsely.
They both hug her and Ceci looks shocked by how long each of them linger. “You two are affectionate today. Usually I can’t keep either of you still for more than a moment.”
“We just missed you, Mom… you know, when we were at school,” Sol says, and he’s grateful she was able to mask her slip-up and keep Ceci from getting confused.
“I love you,” he says. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Lucky me; my bondmate is taking extra time away from the Citadel for me,” Ceci says. “Or have you found a far prettier turian here at home?”
“Impossible,” he says. “There’ll never be another turian as beautiful to me as you are.”
They leave, driving back to the hotel in silence in the cab Garrus flagged down for them. “I need to pick something up at a shop,” he says when they arrive back at the hotel and takes off on foot, eventually finding a grocery store with a pharmacy. There, he finds a selection of turian body washes.
He browses for a time, trying to decide what she might like, before settling on one that’s marketed as smelling like fresh linen. On his way out, he grabs a box of dextro chocolates, because he’s seen what she’s served at the facility and chocolate is most certainly not on the day-to-day menu.
***
It’s seven in the morning when his omni-tool goes off. His emergency ringtone. The last time it went off was when Garrus called him to say goodbye, because he’d set Garrus’ comm address to register as an emergency call so he wouldn’t miss it.
He looks at the address. Helos Medical Institute.
Instantly, he knows what this call means. His first instinct is to ignore it. To pretend for awhile that what happened didn’t occur. But ignoring pain is not helpful. Taking a deep breath, he answers the call, forcing himself to sound calm when he answers.
“Detective Vakarian, I am sorry to inform you that Ms. Vakarian passed away peacefully in her sleep. A member of our staff discovered her about an hour ago when he was doing morning rounds. She appears comfortable, and I’m told yesterday was a good day for her.”
“Is there… any indication of why this occurred? As you said, she’d had a good day. There were no signs…”
“A final burst of lucidity is common towards the end. Some believe it’s a way to… prepare for the end. To make peace. I’m sorry, sir. There were instructions for her remains - are these still current?”
“Yes,” he says, still in shock. “We’ll take her home to Cipritine with us and have her cremated on her homeworld.”
Once he gets off the call, he gets dressed and sits in the hotel room living room, staring at the wall. Garrus and Sol are still asleep in their rooms and he won’t wake them. Not when their rest is peaceful and their ignorance blissful.
She’s gone. His Ceci is gone and somehow he must continue on without her.
He reaches into the grocery bag and pulls out the soap. The one that smells like linen, and unscrews the cap, smelling it.
It’s all wrong. Yes, it smells like linen, but the scent resembles a brand of laundry detergent that Ceci hated because it irritated her hide and plates. She’d have been terribly annoyed with him if he attempted to use this soap when he helped her bathe.
Such a stupid thing, but he chuckles. Somehow it’s so like her to die rather than endure his subpar attempts at purchasing body care products. He screws the cap back on and holds the bottle. The stupid bottle of body wash that would have pissed her off.
He wishes he could have pissed her off. Even angry moments with her were better than a life without her.
A door opens awhile later and he braces himself. “Mom got so mad at me when I bought that body wash for her three years ago,” Sol says. “You can’t bring that to the institute.”
“I know,” he says softly. Sol sits down beside him.
“Should I wake Garrus?”
“Let him rest.”
“When did it happen?”
Of course she knows. Sol likely figured it out the moment she walked into the room.
“Sometime overnight. It was peaceful and it’s common for people to have a brief upswing before they die, apparently,” he says, still staring at the bottle in his hands.
Sol whimpers. “I knew this was coming. I knew and I shouldn’t…”
“Feel whatever you need to feel,” he says. “That’s what your mom would have said.”
Garrus enters the room an hour or so later, his face freshly bandaged. He looks at them both. “No,” he says. “No.”
He repeats what he told Sol, and Garrus sits on the other side of him, and he gets the impression his son’s legs just barely got him to the couch.
“She suffered so much,” Sol says to Garrus. “Maybe this is for the best. She’s at peace now.”
“I won’t ever say that a galaxy without Mom is for the best,” Garrus snaps. “There had to have been things they could do! Treatments they could have tried!”
“They were doing everything they could!” Sol snaps back at Garrus. “If you were here when our mother needed you, you would know that!”
Garrus flinches and doesn’t respond.
“She would not want us to argue,” he says. “Her final day was a good one and she got to see her family. Amidst all of our pain and regrets, let us find comfort in that.”
Sol leaps up, rushes out of the room and slams the door to her room shut. Garrus flinches again.
He doesn’t know how to comfort. It’s never been something he’s good at. While Garrus was needed where he was during his last mission, he does acknowledge that Garrus was also sorely needed at home over the last couple of years. Judging from his reaction, Garrus knows this. He’ll not pick at the wound further.
“She was so proud of you, and happy you found your place,” he says.
“Yeah; she said that to me,” Garrus says. “Said a lot of stuff.”
“Write down all she said to you. Memories fade but the written word does not,” he suggests.
Garrus nods and stands up, leaving for his room. He does the same, but not before pulling out a bottle of whiskey from the hotel minibar. As he writes down every single thing he can recall from their visit yesterday he drinks terrible, overpriced hotel liquor that burns on its way down.
If he’s drunk, he won’t keen loud enough for his children to hear. Once he’s finished, he steps into the shower, turns the water on, and cries under the hot water.
His grief isn’t for his children to bear, and so he will express it alone.